Lie For Me: Autumn (Mandrake Falls Series Romance Book 2) Page 3

  “He understands that’s just journalism. It’s nothing personal.”

  “This is all so sudden! Janice called the wedding off just two months ago. Not that I’m complaining, I never liked that girl, but I always wondered what happened between those two.”

  Shelby screwed up her nose and shrugged. “Beats me.”

  “Haven’t you and Sawyer talked about it?” Dolly was aghast.

  “Well, sure.” Shelby recovered quickly. “I just don’t feel comfortable gossiping about Sawyer’s private life. It’s over between them now and that’s all you need to know.”

  “He could be on the ... what do you call it? Something to do with a ball....”

  “Rebound?”

  “Rebound. That’s it.”

  “He’s not.”

  Dolly scrutinized Shelby’s face. She knew she wasn’t telling her aunt enough to put this lie over but Shelby was drawing a blank. She knew very little about Sawyer’s relationship with Janice being busy with relationship problems of her own at the time.

  “How long have you two been seeing each other?” Dolly asked with terrifying calm.

  Shelby swallowed. “Not long. A few days.”

  “How did it happen?”

  Shelby fingered the scum on the sleeve of Sawyer’s jacket. “I told you it took us both by surprise.” Now there was an understatement. “Boy am I tired.” She yawned. “I promise I’ll tell you all about it in the morning. Time for sleep!”

  “Sleep! I couldn’t possibly sleep now.”

  Judging by the radiance lighting her aunt’s face, Shelby doubted Dolly would sleep at all that night; she’d be too busy plotting marriage proposals and baby christenings. It was a no-win situation: when she didn’t have a boyfriend, Dolly didn’t rest and now that she had a fake one, Dolly wasn’t resting. But Shelby had to admit that this was a different kind of restlessness. Dolly radiated vitality.

  “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me. You must have known I’d be pleased. It always grieved me that you and Sawyer weren’t closer.”

  “We’re as close now as we’re ever going to get,” Shelby muttered, remembering her reaction when she took off her sweater and caught Sawyer’s stare. She could have sworn there was something in his eyes that wasn’t his usual chilly dislike. She never knew what she’d done to tick Sawyer off, but coming from the streets, angry and defensive, she didn’t go out of her way to find out.

  “Is it serious between you two?”

  Shelby jerked her attention back to her aunt. “What?”

  “You and Sawyer. How serious is it?”

  “I don’t want to jinx it, Dolly. You know, get your hopes up and then have it go nowhere with Sheriff McIntyre.”

  “That sounds formal. You aren’t on a first name basis yet?”

  Dolly’s eyes twinkled at her shrewdly. For a fluffy scatter-brain, Dolly could be remarkably astute about some things.

  “Sawyer, I mean. Of course we’re on a first name basis. I’m just used to keeping our personal relationship under wraps because of the paper and his job. You know what Mandrake Falls is like.”

  “Naturally. I’d forgotten. You wouldn’t want to be accused of favoritism. Although, it seems to me you’ve gone out of your way to punish the man in print.”

  “Dolly, do we have to talk about this now? I’m quite tired.”

  “Of course you are, darling. Off you go to bed.”

  Shelby kissed her aunt gratefully and snapped off the light. Reeling from her easy escape, she stumbled to the door.

  “I’ll invite him to lunch in the morning,” Dolly sighed sleepily.

  Shelby froze at the door. “He’s very busy, sweetie.”

  “Sawyer will make time for me, you know that. I’ll call him before my hair appointment tomorrow morning. Would it be better to call the office or is he on the farm at that hour?”

  Shelby stared at the gray form that was Dolly’s head. She didn’t have a clue what Sawyer’s hours were. She never thought of Sawyer being anywhere but his office. And she certainly didn’t expect to have him for lunch.

  “I remember when Raymond McIntyre sold off most of the land and Sawyer bought the house. Seems like yesterday. But that’s what aging does for you; the far away gets closer and the near at hand gets very far away. I’m sure I have the number in my floral address book.”

  Oh no, oh God. Something had to happen—some miracle that would get her out of this mess she created. I will never lie again, she silently begged, only please, please let Dolly develop amnesia.

  “He was so lonely after his mother died. He’s so much like you in many ways, Shelby. This is the miracle I’ve been praying for. I’ll have to stop by the grocery store to pick up some things for lunch before you take me to the salon. Will you be able to manage that?”

  “Oh God, no, Dolly....”

  “Are you too busy?”

  “It’s not that. It ... it’s....”

  “It’ll be all right, Shelby, you’ll see. You worry too much. Now off to bed so I can get some sleep. I have a lot to do in the morning. Nightie-night, dearest.”

  Dolly’s voice was already thick with sleep. In the thin streaks of streetlight that came in through the bedroom window, Shelby could make out the soft relaxed lines in her aunt’s face.

  She stepped out of the room closing the door quietly behind her and stood, stricken, in the middle of the hall. Of all the people for Dolly to name as her love interest, why did it have to be Sawyer? Her aunt’s godson had never trusted her. It’s not what he said so much as the way he looked at her, expecting her to turn into the monster he believed she was underneath. It was a look she was familiar with; she’d seen it in the eyes of every foster family she lived with before coming to Dolly. Shelby squinted at her watch in the dim overhead light. Four a.m.—still time, though not a lot—less than five hours. Was it possible to convince a man to do something completely against his character for a woman he didn’t like in less than five hours? There was only one way to find out.

  Shelby scrambled down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen in the dark. The floral address book was in the third drawer down nearest the phone. Shelby dug it out and rifled the pages for the McIntyre address. Scrawling down the rural name and number along with the directions on a scrap of paper, she jammed the slip in Sawyer’s jacket pocket and left the house through the back door. Shelby climbed into her car thinking she had no problem lying if it kept Dolly as peaceful as she was right now. It was a bargain she could accept, but could she ask someone to lie for her? And not just anyone, mind but Sheriff Sawyer McIntyre. Keeper of the peace. Upholder of the law. A man who managed to make her feel guilty just for crossing the street.

  He’ll never go for it.

  She had to try. If he thought about it, he’d see it wasn’t too much to ask. A lunch, that was all. Telling the Dolly the truth now was not an option. Somehow, she had to produce Sawyer by noon. How? No idea. But something’ll come to her.

  Shelby swung the car out of town and prayed Sawyer was a light sleeper.

  Chapter Three: The Ask

  SHELBY STOOD over his bed. He looked sweet when he was asleep with his black hair tousled and mouth slightly open. Vulnerable and cute. Shelby decided to make her pitch fast before he lost his temper and turned her down flat.

  Before she could open her mouth to speak, Sawyer lunged up, caught her around the waist and flipped her to the bed. It happened so fast, she didn’t even have time to cry out before Sawyer had her pinned in a full body hold, his forearm pressing lightly but menacingly against her neck. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of boxers and clean soapy smell.

  “Hi again,” she gasped. Her heart was hammering in her ears and she was having trouble catching her breath. It crossed Shelby’s mind that her breathlessness had less to do with sheriff’s body weight than with the sheriff himself.

  Sawyer swore loudly and vaulted off her like she was made of hot coals. “What the hell are you doing here?”

/>   “I need to talk to you.”

  “I have an office with office hours. You don’t have to break into my bedroom to talk to me.”

  He sounded like he was panting. Did she scare him? “I didn’t break anything, I swear. Your kitchen window was open and I thought—”

  “An open window is not an invitation to enter!”

  Shelby nibbled a nail anxiously as Sawyer paced the bedroom. He was really mad. Breaking into his house definitely smacked of cringe-worthy desperation. Sawyer was handsome, fit, the catch of Mandrake Falls. And he hated her. Asking him to pretend to be in love with her was so far-fetched—she’d been hanging around with Dolly too long—this is the kind of scheme she’d come up with.

  “This isn’t a good time,” she said quickly and rolled off the bed. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

  “Hold it!” Sawyer bellowed as she inched to the door. “You wake me in the middle of the night to talk to me you bloody well better talk to me. Is this about Ryan?”

  “No, it’s a personal matter.” Shelby hesitated at the doorway. “I’m sorry I broke in. That was wrong. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to talk in private. My coming here at this hour was very dumb. I’ll speak to you at your office later.”

  “Is that my jacket?”

  Shelby looked down at the black uniform swamping her shoulders, grateful for the temporary distraction. She tugged the zipper down. “Yes, yes, it is. It doesn’t have to go to the drycleaners after all. It’s a little damp on the inside but that’ll dry out.”

  She whipped it from her shoulders and handed it to Sawyer.

  “Porter, you aren’t wearing anything.”

  Her muddied tank top clung to her curves. She was covered, completely respectable, but it was like one of those nightmares of being caught naked in a public place. Shelby snatched Sawyer’s jacket out of his hands and fumbled it back on.

  “I was in a hurry. I didn’t think anyone was going to see me at this hour.”

  Sawyer crossed his arms over his bare chest and stared at her meaningfully. “Like me, you mean. You break into my bedroom at four o’clock in the morning claiming you want a private conversation, wearing my jacket with nothing on underneath—and I’m supposed to believe you didn’t plan this? I’d have a tough time explaining this situation to a judge but I’m willing to bet you have your story all worked out. The truth is always a tougher sell. Let’s get down to it. What do you want?”

  Shelby shifted and held the jacket tighter. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you win, you’ve got the upper hand. You got a cop alone in his bedroom without his pants on and you’re wearing nothing but a hankie. My hands have been all over you. So what do you want? What’s your ask? In exchange for dropping the sexual misconduct charge, you want—what?” Sawyer raised his eyebrows and waved a hand in a circular motion, as though encouraging her to finish his sentence.

  “My ask...? Oh my god. Do you think—do you think this is—?”

  “Entrapment. Yes. What else could it be?”

  “A lot of things! I could be in trouble. My car could have broken down. Wow—is that a usual concern for you? Charges of sexual misconduct?”

  “I have to be careful and I shouldn’t have to explain why to a journalist. You show up in my bedroom dressed like that after I find you crawling around my brother’s construction site. You were trespassing, Porter. Breaking the law. If this isn’t a set-up, then I don’t know what is.”

  She held her hands up in front of her. “I swear, I am not here to cause you trouble or to seduce you or accuse you. I wouldn’t do that to anyone. And for the record, I shouldn’t have to explain why I wouldn’t do that to the local sheriff! How long do you think I’d have a newspaper if I pulled stunts like that? I wanted to talk to you in private because it’s a sensitive matter, personal to us both. And there’s a bit of a time issue, so I had to get to you early.” Shelby clamped her mouth shut. He was making her nervous and she babbled when she was nervous. Sawyer was staring at her like she had lost her mind and maybe she had. Everything about the story she’d concocted for Dolly was clearly the work of a woman who had issues with reality.

  “What kind of personal matter?”

  “Do you have something I can borrow? To wear, I mean.”

  Sawyer opened the bottom drawer of the large dresser he had in his room and pulled out a sweatshirt. “Here, put this on.”

  He looked away, turning back when she had the sweatshirt pulled down over her hips. He must have worn it recently; it still smelled like the soap he used. “This was a stupid idea. I’d better go,” Shelby muttered. Coward, completely unable to state your business—yes—you had better go.

  “You’re here now,” he sighed and sat on the edge of the rumpled bed. “You may as well tell me what’s so damned important it couldn’t wait..,” he squinted at the clock on the nightstand, “…three hours when I’m having my coffee.”

  Shelby pushed her glasses up on her nose and gazed longingly at the door. Now that she had to come out with her request, she’d give anything to stall the words. “I’m not sure where to begin. Everyone has their breaking point and mine is Dolly Porter. I promised her something to make her happy and give her a good night’s sleep, and I can’t pull it off.”

  “What did you promise?”

  Sawyer lifted his eyes and studied her. Shelby shifted her weight self-consciously. Why didn’t she change before coming over? Or at least comb the pond scum out of her hair. “Bear in mind, I never expected it to go this far. But I’m in trouble either way—if I ask you or if I don’t. So I might as well ask you.”

  “I haven’t seen Dolly in weeks. I’m tired and losing patience. Tell me what’s going on before I call my deputy and have you arrested for breaking and entering.”

  “This is never going to work,” Shelby moaned.

  “Porter!”

  “All right! I told Dolly a little white lie that got out of hand.” She sank to the edge of the bed beside him. “You’ve taken some sort of confidentiality oath haven’t you? Nothing I say will go beyond these walls, right?”

  “As long as you haven’t done anything illegal, I’m not obligated to discuss what is said here.”

  “Nothing illegal—just really, really dumb.” She took a deep breath, her words coming out in a rush. “I told Dolly that I had a boyfriend.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “No,” she snapped, frustrated and weary. “If I had a boyfriend I wouldn’t be here right now. You see, I was wearing your jacket and she got this idea that you and I were—”

  Sawyer bolted upright, “Me? I’m the boyfriend? But you don’t even like me!”

  “I know, I know. I said it was stupid. It just happened. The words were out of my mouth before I could think. But you should have seen her, Sawyer. She was a wreck when I got home. She’d locked herself out of the house.”

  “What?”

  “She’s okay. She woke up and I wasn’t home and she went looking for me.”

  “Damn it, Porter, she’s over seventy! She can’t handle your street punk bullshit anymore. If you stopped breaking into private property, Dolly would feel a hell of a lot better. You don’t need a boyfriend, you need a keeper.”

  Shelby blazed, her face growing hot with anger. “I confide in you—I ask you to do one thing to make an old woman comfortable—”

  “No,” he corrected her, his blue eyes like marbles, “you asked me to lie for you—to Dolly of all people. You know I won’t do that. You’re going to have to get out of this on your own. You’ll think of something. I’m sure it’s not the first lie she’s heard from you.”

  Shelby stood up, her breath stuck in her chest. He hated her. He actually hated her. They’d always fought with each other but for her it was a case of self-defense. Sawyer was cold and judgmental and she defended herself by attacking him whenever and where ever she could. Somewhere along the line their bickering animosity had solidified into hate.

  “I thought you
loved Dolly.” Her eyes were burning. Impulse control was never her strong suit. She’d better get to the point before she went for his throat. “Or was that just another McIntyre scam?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Maybe brother Ryan isn’t the only McIntyre who’ll say whatever he has to in order to get what he wants. The question is what does that old lady have that you would pretend to love her to get?”

  “That’s a glass house your ass is sitting in. I wouldn’t throw stones if I were you. You bust in here demanding I fake a relationship with you because you don’t have the guts to tell Dolly the truth—”

  “Dolly is fragile!”

  “—which is, you’re too obsessed with your paper to form any real relationships with anyone. You don’t even have a friend you can ask to pretend to be your lover—you have to ask a guy you can’t stand! Even your relationship with Dolly is a fake!”

  “You don’t know anything about my relationship with Dolly! You’ve never bothered to find out!”

  Shelby was quivering with anger but Sawyer pushed on. “Judging from this story you’ve told her, you think she’s pretty damned gullible. You’ve openly attacked me in print, Porter! She’s not stupid!”

  “I’ve explained that. I’ve told her it’s just journalism and you completely understand—”

  “Wow, what a nice guy I am!”

  “—that we are just doing our jobs!”

  They stared at each other with mutual hostility.

  Shelby looked into Sawyer’s closed angry face. She was at a loss how to make him understand when they had cultivated a history of not listening, of not understanding and she had no idea how to turn that around before noon. She raked her fingers through her mud-caked hair.

  He was right about one thing. Shelby had put Dolly and every other relationship she ever had on hold while she built up the paper, never imagining there might not be anyone around for her later, not even Dolly.

  Shelby sank into the armchair, suddenly weary. She’d been up all night and desperately craved a bath. “It was never supposed to go this far. The story just got out of hand. Dolly is the kind of woman who doesn’t let up until she knows every detail. There’s no such thing as lying a little to that woman; she drives a person to get in deeper and deeper. I’m not saying what I did was right, but it worked. Dolly was so happy to hear about our relationship.”