Chapter 18

18

CHANCE

I f I had enough energy and got off work early enough, I usually stopped by Marigold's house. I didn't like the idea of calling it a booty call because it was much more than that. I looked forward to seeing her smiling face at the end of the day. It soothed me.

My job could be upsetting at times, and I had to maintain my composure. But with Marigold, I could relax and just be myself. I didn't have to be the sheriff all the time. I could just be Chance.

I wasn't dumb enough to think she'd be okay with this arrangement for long. She deserved so much better. But I was selfish enough to enjoy it while it lasted.

On Friday night, I didn't bother texting. She'd said she was in for the night, so I knew I'd find her there.

I knocked on her door, thinking about how I'd kiss her. It was a running joke now that I couldn't resist kissing her when she opened the door. I just had to touch her.

She was a little slower coming to the door tonight, so I knocked a second time. She might have fallen asleep on the couch, but I wanted to make sure she was okay.

When the door finally opened, Marigold was still wearing her work clothes.

"What's going on?" I stepped inside and shut the door, concern ramping up. Usually by now she was in sweats, looking adorably rumpled. It was my favorite look on her. She was warm and inviting, but tonight there was a wall up, and I wasn't sure why.

My stomach dropped. Was she going to tell me she couldn't go on like this with me? I wasn't ready for this to end, but I knew I wasn't capable of giving her what she wanted. That part of me belonged to the police department and the town.

Marigold moved into the living room where a movie was playing on the screen. She sat on the couch. There was an empty ice cream cartoon on the coffee table.

I sat next to her, waiting for her to talk when she was ready.

"I talked to my parents about the house."

"Oh." I couldn't anticipate what her parents would say or do. It was usually the opposite of what I'd expect from loving parents.

"They're going to list it."

"That's good, right? Then you don't have to maintain it anymore and deal with the contractors to fix it."

Marigold sighed. "I don't know why I'm upset. It's just that they said they kept it for me. As if I'd want to live in that house with my family."

I frowned. "That house doesn't hold good memories for you."

"That and I always thought they kept the house so they could come back. It solidified what I already knew; they never had any intention of coming back. They're moving on, buying a house in Arizona. It makes sense logically. I don't know why I let them get to me. I should know by now they don't feel things like other people do."

"It doesn't mean you're not an amazing person. They just can't see it."

Marigold's face fell. "I think that's it. I can’t help but feel like there's something wrong with me."

"You’re hurt.”

"I'll give myself tonight to wallow. Then tomorrow, I'm moving on. I'll call the Realtor and let her handle it with my parents."

"You should tell your parents to hire the realtor too. It's their house."

She chewed her lip. "I told them I would."

"If dealing with the house is going to bring up bad memories, maybe you should let someone else handle it." It would be different if it were my parents who needed help. My parents had always been there for me. But Marigold had a one-sided relationship with hers. She sought their attention, and they withheld it. "It's up to you, but I think you'd feel better to just leave it to them."

Marigold blew out a breath. "I think you're right."

I gathered her to me then, and she tucked her head under my chin. I hated that her parents still had the power to hurt her. But she was a good person. She felt a lot. And I knew she'd move on from this a better person. "We'll get through this."

I don't know why I said we, but it felt right in the moment. I wanted to be here for her like this. I wanted her to confide in me. And if her parents ever showed up in town, I had a few choice words for them. I know my parents did too.

They could have done better by Marigold. "It's your parents' loss, you know. They don't deserve to have you as a daughter."

She snuggled in more deeply, and I just held her, pulling her so she sat across my lap. I hated that they had the power to hurt her.

Eventually, she asked, "Do you want to go to bed?"

"I'll take Oakley out. Why don't you take a bath, and I'll join you in a minute."

"That sounds perfect."

She hadn't cried, but she still seemed down. I wanted to turn this around for her, but I couldn't. She needed to feel these feelings in order to heal and move on.

I let Oakley out, then locked up for the night. The door to her bathroom was ajar, so I kicked off my shoes and shucked off my clothes before joining her.

Her head rested on the lip of the tub. "This was a good idea."

I smiled as I knelt beside the tub, reaching for a washcloth to wash her with. "I'm full of them."

"You don't have to do that." Marigold nodded at where my hand was moving the cloth over her leg.

"I want to."

She moved her hands through the bubbles. "I'd like you to join me."

It wasn't seductive. She needed me, and I wanted to be the man who stood by her side and never let her down. But I was worried I was no better than her parents. I wasn't willing to give her all of me either.

I got in behind her, and she sat between my legs. I ran the washcloth over her entire body before tossing it aside. I cupped her breasts, my dick hardening where it pressed against her ass. I tweaked her nipples until she rested her head on my shoulder and widened her legs in silent invitation.

I was slow to move down her body and between her legs. Tonight was for her. I slid a finger inside her, keeping my other hand on her breast. She turned her head so I could kiss her. It was a little awkward, but we both needed the connection.

I inserted a second finger, determined to make her feel good, to forget about her parents and their insensitivity for at least a few minutes.

I rubbed a thumb over her clit, and she spasmed around me, her lips breaking from mine. Her skin was flushed and glistening. She'd never looked more gorgeous.

Then she turned in my arms and straddled my thighs.

I gripped her hips as if I could stop her from moving. "We don't have to do anything tonight."

She sank down the length of my cock. "I want to."

I wasn't going to argue with her. I wanted her to feel good, and if me filling her up did that for her, then I was for it.

She moved over me of her own accord, taking what she needed from me. I kept a light touch on her hips, not controlling her movements or thrusting from underneath. This was about her. When she started to whimper, I circled her clit with my finger and watched while she cried out my name. I'd never get enough of that.

I loved seeing her filled with pleasure.

I took over then, gripping her hips tightly and moving. When I went over, I couldn't help but think this felt right. That I'd never find anyone else like Marigold. She was the girl for me, and it hurt because I couldn't have her.

She slumped over me, her head on my shoulder. I held her until the water was tepid, then shifted her so that I could get out first and grab a towel.

I helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in the towel. I let the water out of the tub, then quickly dried myself off.

She was moving a little more slowly, so I took over for her, rubbing her dry, then helping her into the bedroom where I pulled out cozy pajamas. I wanted her to be comfortable.

Then I got into bed. I turned off the lights, holding her for a long time. We didn't talk. I just held her, and when her breath evened out, I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't like that she was hurting. I wanted to make everything better for her. But I knew I couldn't. I couldn't change the parents she was given or even make them see how they'd screwed up with their daughter.

They didn't realize what they had. But I did. That's why it hurt the more I thought about having to break things off. We were getting in deeper, and I knew I needed to do the right thing. I hadn't changed my mind about being married to my job, and she deserved more than that.

If I wasn't it for her, I needed to walk away. But it hurt to think about.

I wanted to be the person who was there for her on nights like this, because she was always there for everyone else. I wished she could be mine.

I had a hard time falling asleep. I couldn't reconcile my plan for my life with what was happening between us. I hadn't planned for this. But I was falling for her despite my vow not to. It was stupid to get involved with her at all. I should have known it would lead to this.

I couldn't even go to anyone for advice because no one knew about us.

T he next morning, I went to work early. I should have stuck around to ensure Marigold was okay, but I felt like I was going to break out of my skin. I needed to stay busy and bury myself in work.

By the time Carol arrived, I was working on my third cup of coffee and felt a little wired.

She raised a brow. "I'm surprised you're in the office this early."

"I always come to work early." Maybe not so much the last few weeks, but that had always been my pattern.

Carol shook her head. "You've been working less lately, coming to work more refreshed. It was good for you."

"I need to work. I'm the sheriff."

"We can run this place while you take some time off. You're allowed to have a life outside of work," Carol said as she bustled around my office, watering the plants that she'd placed in there.

"It's important for me to be seen as sheriff around town."

"Of course it is," Carol said, her lips pursed. "I didn't mean to imply otherwise. I just wanted to point out the change I've seen in you lately." Carol finished watering the plants, then headed toward the door where she paused. "I thought you met someone." With that parting shot, she walked out.

How could she have guessed that? Unless my inattention was that obvious to everyone around me. I couldn't afford to lose my focus. I had to run for reelection in a couple of years. I needed to be on top of my job and not let anyone down. The position wasn't a guarantee, and it came with a great deal of responsibility.

The next couple of weeks, I went to work earlier and stayed later. I hadn't reached out to Marigold. I didn't know what to say. Our relationship had run its course, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her that.

Whenever I thought about her, it hurt, so I tried to focus on work. I went on every call that I could. I volunteered for more hours, which was easy around the holidays. My officers wanted to be at home with their families. There were more activities for them to enjoy, and I didn't have a wife or kids.

Besides, Marigold hadn't reached out to me either. Maybe our relationship hadn't meant as much to her. It only solidified that I'd made the right decision.

If my coworkers kept a wide berth around me, they didn't say why. I felt grumpy and on edge. But it was probably all the caffeine, because I couldn't manage to get much sleep. Every time I fell into bed, I remembered what it was like to sleep in Marigold's. How good it felt to hold her while she slept.

She'd never been to my house, so there were no memories of her here, but I still couldn't escape the ones in my head. It felt like her scent was permanently imbedded in my nose and the sound of her voice not far from my mind.

I avoided the theater. I was used to stopping by to check on the progress of their work, but I couldn't see Marigold's face. The disappointment. The hurt.

The issue with her parents only highlighted the kind of guy I couldn't be for her. I couldn't always be there when she needed me, and I wasn't going to make promises I couldn't keep.

Tonight was our book club at the library. I hadn't read the book. I was too busy to even crack the first page. Whenever I looked at the cover sitting on my nightstand, it reminded me of that first night at Marigold's house when we talked books and I fixed her bike.

It felt like the beginning of something amazing.

I kept my head down, avoiding the children's section. I took the elevator instead of the stairs to the top floor where I slipped into the room.

The guys were in a heated discussion over who actually killed the girl. I guessed it had something to do with the book I hadn't read. I grabbed a water bottle from a cooler in the room.

Eli sidled up next to me. "I'm surprised you're late. Isn't this your thing?"

I twisted off the cap and drank deeply, hoping the cool water would sooth my dry throat. I'd gotten a cold recently and couldn't seem to kick the cough. "I've been sick."

Eli raised a brow. "Not sick enough to stay home from work."

I winked at him. "Work stops for no one. You know that."

"I've actually been working a little less, delegating more to Oliver. Xander has even expressed an interest in taking on more responsibility. I'm not sure I believe that yet." Eli nodded toward Xander, who was joking about some snow bunnies he instructed recently in a lesson.

It was hard to see Xander as anything more than an irritating little brother who loved women. As long as I'd known him, he hadn't wanted to be serious about anything. "That's a tough one."

Eli touched my shoulder. "My point is that it's okay to take a break now and then. Life isn't work."

"You know this is what I've always wanted." To take over my father's position and make him and the town proud. I couldn't see how to do that without working and making that known to the community.

"Are you happy though?" Eli asked, and I wondered if Marigold told Scarlett about our relationship. I didn't think she would, but if she was hurting, she might have needed someone to talk to.

"I'm happy enough." I'd never planned for Marigold. She made me rethink everything, but that didn't mean that it was right. That I should pursue a relationship with her. Not when I had another path. I just needed some time to think about things. "This time of year is always busy. People are drinking more. Anxiety is high."

"Just make sure you're taking care of you." Eli fell silent for a few seconds, but I didn't feel the need to respond. I was taking care of myself, working hard, and trying to go to as many community events as I could.

Eli raised a brow. "We should probably get started."

I might have been the one who scouted the location for our little book club, but my heart wasn't in it tonight. Everything about it reminded me of Marigold and how I'd essentially walked away from her without a word. I hadn't intended to do that. I just felt this need to go to work with the excuse that I'd think about our relationship. But it was easier to push it to the back of my mind and keep working.

Someone always needed me, and it was easy to justify not having time to reach out to Marigold, especially when my head and my heart were all mixed up. My mind was a battle between the path I'd always thought I'd follow and this new one that Marigold represented. It was easier to fall back on old habits.

We sat on the couch and the overstuffed chairs, the fire crackling in the hearth. I wondered if Marigold was the one who'd unlocked the door.

"Who read the book?" Eli asked, and everyone's hand went up except for mine.

"I would think that of anyone, you would have read the book," Xander pointed out.

"I've been busy. It's that time of year."

"Ski season just started for me, so I know what it means to be busy."

Eli gave me a stern, eldest-brother look. "We all have a lot going on, but if we're going to do this book club, we need to do it right."

I folded my arms over my chest. "I'll make more of an effort to read the book next time."

Eli nodded, satisfied.

But there was no way I could talk to Marigold about potential books. That outlet was gone. It would be a long time before things between us ever went back to normal.

I knew I should reach out to her, but every day that passed only made it more difficult.

"Since Chance didn't read the book, I guess I'll lead the discussion." Eli picked up his book and flipped to the back where the questions were listed.

He asked the first question, and I was only half listening because I wasn't familiar with the story. The guys talked, and I wondered where Marigold was, if she was in the children's section waiting for us to be done or if she was at the theater tonight.

The door opened, and a tall blonde entered the room. "Is this the men's book club?"

Xander raised a brow. "Who wants to know?"

I'm Jill. I'm a photographer with the local paper. We heard that there was a men's book club, and I was tasked with finding out if the rumors were true."