Page 85 of The Bodyguard's Fall

Our issues.

Ours. Like he considered my problems his problems too.

There was something so incredibly sweet about that, but my brain was already on a fast track to derailment for me to give it much more thought.

“You can’t be serious. We’re talking about marriage here,” I said slowly, like I was explaining an important detail he must have missed.

“Yeah. You’ve probably never thought you’d be so lucky,” he said, a light twinkle in his eyes.

“Will would kill you.”

He seemed amused by that statement. “I could take him.”

“This is crazy. You can’t get married to me.”

“Why not? You got another skeleton in your closet I don’t know about?”

“Because…you don’t like me like that.”

He hesitated, his eyes softening before he smiled. “It’s not a real marriage.” At the look on my face, he held up his hands. “It would be legal, but we wouldn’t treat it like it was real. We’d get it annulled as soon as we catch this guy. That is, if you’d be able to keep your hands to yourself. I believe getting an annulment requires a pretty hands-off sort of marriage, if you catch my meaning.”

I refused to be embarrassed. So I channeled all the electricity now flailing around my body into a glare, which coincidentally only made him smile wider.

“Have you gotten many annulments before?” I asked.

“You’d be my first.”

“We can’t,” I said, even as my mind was rapidly trying to decide if we actually could.

“Why not?” He looked genuinely curious, which I thought was strange, considering what we were so casually discussing.

“Because this is something I read in books or watched ten different times just this week in a cheesy romance movie. It doesn’t happen in real life.”

He shrugged. “If you can find a better way to solve all of our problems with the least amount of collateral damage, then I’m all ears.”

The least amount of collateral damage.

Somewhere deep inside of me, I had a hard time believing that a temporary marriage to Tate Walker would provide the least amount of collateral damage. Nothing about that statement rang true. In going with our theme, there were red flags all over this discussion. But, currently, my world was spinning too fast, and I knew that if I mentioned anything in that realm, he would never let me live it down. With how dark my day had felt, this idea of attaching myself to Tate and his family seemed like candy being dangled in front of me.

It would be so easy to reach out and take a piece.

Other than a tiny slip of paper with both of our signatures on it, nothing would have to change. Nothing would change. I could keep my job and turn in my screenplay. And I’d get to stay with the Walkers. Leroy was here. Maybe Tate was right; this could be our best chance to put an end to it all. And at the moment, he looked like a man who had already made up his mind.

“Alright, you know what?” Tate began, dropping to his knee on the floor before me.

I startled and took a step back before he grabbed my hand, peering up imploringly at me.

“Listen, Rawlins. This doesn’t have to be a thing. I can barely tolerate you.”

I stepped lightly on his toe, watching the ends of his lips curl upward slightly before he continued. “We do it, I keep you by my side, you keep your job, and we finally get this guy. No more running. No more changing apartments. You can be free.”

I blinked, and for a long moment, I thought about freedom.

To be free.

What would it be like to check my mail without a second thought, or run into the store without the constant fear of Leroy in the parking lot?

Though it might have been the catalyst in bringing this whole idea into place, I didn’t even think about my job just then. Tate had spoiled me. Now, I craved feeling safe. I wanted someone at my back. I hadn’t felt the sting of loneliness since I stepped onto this farm, and it took the threat of leaving for me to realize just how nice that was.