Page 34 of Cautious Love

Her eyes widen, and mouth drops into an O. “I’m so sorry,” she says, and wipes the suds off my face with a hand towel. She drags the cloth slowly over my face, paying special attention to my mustache, and my heart picks up.

I grab her wrist to stop her, and catch her pulse thundering under her skin. “Let me do the dishes, Shiloh,” I rasp.

“Or what?” she says, but her tone is different. It’s heavy as if she had to work to say it.

“Or … I don’t know, I’ll wash your clothes you put in the washer, but don’t actually wash right away with a red sock,” I tell her matter-of-fact.

She gasps as if I’ve offended her and her ancestors before her. “You wouldn’t.”

“You forget I grew up in a family of four, on a ranch, with nothing else to do but mess with each other. I can and I will.”

Shiloh’s infuriating, beautiful mouth splits into a smile, and she giggles. “I think I like you, Sheriff.”

I huff. “That’s a relief,” I mutter.

She shakes her head and puts a measuring cup in the water with a couple of knives. “Really woman? Did anyone tell younot to put knives in water because you can’t see them under the bubbles?” I ask her.

“I know where they are.” She shrugs and sets the measuring cup in the empty sink next to the full one.

I sigh.God, give me strength.

“I don’t know why you’re so concerned. I’m used to doing the dishes. I have my own method.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you washed dishes at the diner too,” I mutter, rinsing the cup before drying it off.

“I don’t. Grey never helped. I’m used to it is what I’m trying to say.”

“I think we’ve already established that Grey sucks, so his lack of dishwashing skills is hardly surprising.”

Shiloh snorts. “Among other things.”

She sets a bowl in the sink. “Fine, you rinse, dry, and put away.”

“Deal.”

She washes a couple of dishes. I rinse them, then she pauses.

“I don’t know what I saw in him. I don’t know why I stayed so long regardless of what he does. I didn’t know he was capable of what he did,” she whispers, looking down into the bubbles as if they hold the answer.

For a second I don’t know if she’s talking to me or herself, then she peeks at me under her lashes and my chest twists.

“I think we’re capable of a lot of things when it comes down to it.”

“A part of me wanted to kill him,” she whispers.

I know my first instinct should be to tell her that’s a bad idea. But I don’t because she already came too close.

“I don’t blame you. But I think you already got a glimpse of the outcome.”

Her eyes water as she looks at me, scrubs a skillet harder than necessary, but I don’t miss the tears dropping into the dishwater.

“Why are you wearing your ring?” I ask her, hoping to distract her.

She stops scrubbing and frowns. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m married, aren’t I?”

“I mean, yes, but I figured you wouldn’t want anyone to know.”

She shrugs and bumps my shoulder. “You already said it. The town will find out soon enough. Plus, I like it, it’s pretty, and it keeps anyone from hitting on me at the diner and the bar. It’s a win-win.”