Due Date_A Baby Contract Romance

by Emily Bishop

  Clearly, he’s willing to go to any length to make that happen. The realization dawns slowly on my muddled mind, but when it does, the truth of the entire situation stands out like a sore thumb.

  I have to get Ben to hate me. I have to shake him off, forever.

  26

  Ben

  Naomi is clearly shaken, and I can hardly contain my rage.

  Another fucking crime under my belt, under my watch. Maybe I should resign. Clearly, I’m not doing the town any favors by being the sheriff. Perhaps James would do a better job at keeping everyone safe.

  I tuck my frustrations away and give Naomi’s shoulder a gentle shake. She’s alternating between looking at me and staring mournfully at her burning restaurant. The shake jars her back to the present, and when her eyes meet mine, the Naomi I know is gone.

  “I’m fine. Honestly.”

  She pulls her arm from my grip and steps away from me. I don’t have time to try and analyze what the fuck that means. I’ve got a mystery to puzzle together here. I nod and make eye contact with Katie. We have a short, silent exchange during which I ask her to look out for Naomi, and she nods in agreement and steps closer to her friend.

  A wave of guilt washes over me at the sight of Katie, disheveled, her eyes red and raw from crying. This poor girl has endured enough without having to be present to watch her job disappear on the same day as any sense of safety she had in her home. I have failed her perhaps worst of all, and I’m not certain I can meet her gaze next time we talk.

  I am filled to the brim with shame.

  To distract myself, I walk past the firetruck to examine the damage. The crew nearly has the fire out, and I glance to the side to see that Naomi’s apartment appears to have survived the fire.

  I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not. Maybe it would be better for her to get a fresh start, provided that this was an accident. Somehow, I don’t think that will end up being the case. A fireman approaches me and lifts his helmet. His dark hair is in disarray, caked down in places with sweat. I recognize a friend of mine, Justin.

  “Ben,” he says by way of greeting.

  I nod to him then look past him at the fire. “What’s the damage?”

  He wipes sweat from his face as he turns and stares up at the restaurant. “Extensive. We’ve managed to contain it. I’d say a few more minutes and it will be completely doused. We were lucky to get the call as soon as we did. Otherwise, this whole strip could have gone down in flames.”

  This news doesn’t improve my mood.

  “Can you tell yet what started it?” I ask.

  Justin opens his mouth to answer when another fireman runs toward us from the inside of the building. He lifts his own helmet and glances between the two of us.

  “Sheriff Warburton?” he asks. I nod. “You’re going to want to see this.” His tone is ominous.

  I can’t imagine how news can get any worse than it already is. I cast a glance back at Naomi, but she’s not looking at me. Katie rubs her back and speaks words of comfort, but Naomi’s hunched shoulders and defeated stance tell me they aren’t working.

  I turn away and follow the fireman into the building. The place smells like melted plastic. The tablecloths must have been made of it. The inside is charred, the dining room barely recognizable. An inch of one of the paintings on the wall remains visible, a sliver of a boat. Beyond that, there’s no evidence of the place Naomi built.

  It’s gone.

  “Back this way,” the fireman says, and I follow. I plug my nose, but the smoke seems to have dispelled, and I let my hand fall again. We step back into the kitchen, and it’s obvious this is where the fire started. The walls are painted black with soot, the room entirely destroyed. I decide then and there not to let Naomi in here.

  There’s no denying that this place is done.

  “What do you want to show me?” I ask as I gaze around. The man nods to the oven and opens the melted silver door. Inside, there is a pot with something black coating the sides. Something that might have once been food.

  “Is this where the fire initiated?” I ask.

  He lifts an eyebrow. “You would think that, but it’s not. Look at the floor.”

  I glance down at our feet. There’s only soot, but then I look a little closer, and it hits me.

  There is a splash trail all along the ground. It’s burned up completely, which isn’t surprising when you understand that gasoline burns up pretty fast. I look back up at the man, and his expression is somber.

  “An accelerant?” I guess.

  He nods.

  “Has to be. Someone wanted us to believe this fire originated in the oven, but anyone who knows can tell you that’s gasoline on the floor. This was arson, plain and simple. Someone did this on purpose.”

  I nod and pull out my phone to take a few pictures. It’s better to have evidence, and I don’t have another camera handy. My mind swirls as I try to figure out this puzzle, and I’m left feeling frustrated and annoyed… again.

  Danger circles around this woman like a vulture, waiting to finish her off. Or is that what’s happening here? It’s no coincidence that she keeps getting in trouble. Since day one she has been involved in every crime I’ve had to face in this town.

  I’m going to get some fucking answers.

  “Thanks,” I say to the fireman, and then I step over pieces of debris as I make my exit.

  Naomi watches me this time as I walk back out and head right toward her. “What’s the damage?” Her voice shakes, and she clears her throat as she tries to force a brave face. I’m not fooled… or am I?

  Have I been fooled this entire time? I still honestly don’t know, and the not knowing is killing me. Worse, it’s really, really pissing me off.

  “I’ll need you down at the station for a report.” I avoid her question on purpose. I’m not going to answer her out here in the open. She’s withholding something from me, and the longer she does, the worse things get.

  She lifts an eyebrow at me and takes a step back. “Why? I wasn’t here. I have nothing to report.”

  “Are you coming willingly or by force?”

  Her eyes widen at my tone, then they narrow. She knows she has no choice. I’ve dragged her to the station before, and I’ll do it again. I don’t care if sex has complicated things—my town is in danger, and it has something to do with Naomi. I want to know why, and I’m tired of waiting for answers.

  “Well?” I cross my arms and wait. I’m perfectly willing to cuff her. I won’t. As angry as I am, a part of me wants to comfort her more than anything, to hold her in my arms. When I saw that fire blazing, I thought the worst until I saw her standing there, cold and alone.

  I shake off the sympathy and slide into cop mode. There will be time for comfort later, and if the other day was any indication, I thoroughly enjoy comforting Naomi.

  She turns to Katie. “I’ll have my phone on me if you need anything.”

  “OK, thanks,” Katie says. She stifles a yawn and waves to me as I escort Naomi away from the scene of the crime. She walks ahead of me and opens the passenger side of the cruiser then slides in and slams the door.

  A grin tugs at my lip. She wants to set a precedent, huh? Naomi is no prisoner.

  Not yet, anyway.

  I sink into the driver’s seat and turn the heat all the way up. She may be putting on a brave face, but I can see her trembling even from here. I’m sure it’s a mixture of shock, the cold, and maybe even a little bit of fear? The car ride is silent as we wind our way through country roads back to the station.

  I park the car in my usual spot and turn to face her.

  “We must stop meeting like this.”

  It’s a lame attempt at a joke, I’ll grant that, but Naomi scowls at me. That wasn’t exactly the response I was going for, but perhaps it’s a little too soon to lighten the mood. Her bad disposition rubs me the wrong way, and any sense of companionship dissolves.

  “Why did you bring me here?” She stares ahead
, avoiding my eyes.

  Is she seriously asking me that?

  “Well,” I say, drawing out the word. “Let me see here. You were at the scene of a robbery, you were at the scene of a breaking and entering and assault, and now you were at the scene of an arson. You tell me why you’re here. If you can’t figure out, I’m not sure I can explain it to you.”

  “You still think this is my fault? My life is ruined!”

  Big, fat tears drop from her eyes, and I have a feeling she’s been fighting them for quite some time. My instinct is to comfort her. Instead, I sit back and watch, waiting for her to calm down. I want her to be happy, I do, but I can’t help with that until she tells me what she knows.

  If she doesn’t, we’re going to have a problem.

  “I understand that losing the restaurant is a huge blow, Naomi. That fireman showed me the gasoline marks—the place was torched. This was done intentionally. You know something that you aren’t telling me, and if you don’t come out with it, you could get seriously hurt or worse. Why won’t you trust me?”

  I can’t help the frustration leaking through my voice. She stares at me, her eyes cold. I don’t think my words managed to crack through the rock-hard head she’s got on her. I can’t force the information out. She has to give it. Why the hell won’t she give it?

  “A huge blow?” she asks, her voice incredulous. “A huge blow? That’s what you think that was? My entire reason for being is up in flames, and all you can think about is yourself!”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I’m trying to save your life.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re trying to solve a crime so you can feel less shitty about the fact that you’re failing this town.”

  Her words sting. They sound exactly like the ones I’ve said to myself a hundred times. Hearing that I’m failing everyone from another person sends me completely over the edge.

  “These crimes wouldn’t be happening if you would tell me what you know! I know you’re hiding something, Naomi. You think I can’t see it every time something like this happens?”

  “You think I don’t know you’re looking for a scapegoat? I’m not going to tell you anything, Ben, because even if I did, I’m sure you’d find some way to bring it all back to me. I was right not to trust you. None of you are worth a damn!”

  “You want to talk about worth? All you ever cared about was that dingy old restaurant. Why don’t you invest your life in something that matters?”

  Like me. I ignore that.

  I can tell I’ve hit a nerve with that one. She throws open the door, and a blast of cold air rushes in. When she looks at me, her eyes are filled with fire. “Apparently, I’m going to have to. Are you detaining me, officer?”

  She’s asking if I’ll force her to stay. I could do it. If I do, she’ll be partly right—I will be abusing my power.

  “No,” I say. “I have no reason to hold you, especially when you have no useful information to share.”

  “Good. Then hear this. I never want to see you again. Stay out of my life. Stay out of my business. We’re done.”

  With that, she flies from the car and slams the door behind her. I count my breaths as I force myself to calm down. I’ve been in some fights, but this one has left me feeling more battered and bruised than some of the battlefields I’ve fought on.

  And that’s saying something.

  I consider ignoring her wishes, running after her, and forcing her to see things my way. That will only make things worse.

  I guess it was all a dream, after all.

  27

  Naomi

  The frosty sea air stings my cheeks as I pull out my phone. It feels good to walk, and I pound each foot into the pavement, imagining Ben’s face beneath my heel.

  He will never, ever take my side in this. All he wants is to improve his reputation in this town, and if he thinks that manipulating me to help him do that will work, he has another thing coming. I have almost convinced myself that he’s a jerk, that I want nothing to do with him.

  I ignore the part of my brain that reminds me how many times he’s saved my ass.

  I press Katie’s name, and her number rings. On the second ring, she answers.

  “Naomi? Are you OK?”

  I repress a sigh. People have been asking me that question a lot recently. I wish that I had a better answer. I’ve never been more not OK in my life.

  “Yeah, I needed to get away from that station. I hate to ask this, but can you come pick me up? I’m walking up Elm.”

  “Of course, I can. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  She ends the call, and I keep walking. Images of Ben flash through my mind. Some of them are harsh, like when he detained me the first time, when he questioned me about the yacht. Some of them are wonderful, like the myriad of ways he’s managed to intoxicate my body, if not my mind.

  Not completely. Not anymore.

  A pair of headlights appear at the end of the road, and Katie honks the horn twice to let me know it’s her. She pulls over, and I slide into the passenger seat. Her car is still cold, and I feel like I may never be warm again.

  “Hey,” she says.

  “Hey.”

  Silence.

  She pulls the car back onto the dark road and drives. “Where do you want me to take you?”

  “Home,” I say, without hesitation.

  She casts a sideways glance at me. “You sure that’s the best idea? There could be some damage there.”

  “I don’t care. They’ve already done their worst. Chances are they won’t expect me to stay there after what they’ve done.”

  “What do you mean ‘after what they’ve done?’ Does Ben think this was intentional?”

  It irks me that Ben’s opinion in this matters to Katie, but it’s not her fault. She doesn’t know how cops operate.

  “A fireman showed him a trail of gas, apparently. This was done on purpose.”

  Katie’s cheeks blanch, and her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. “This is my fault,” she whispers.

  “What? Of course, this isn’t your fault. Why would you think such a thing?”

  “If Skippy hadn’t come to the restaurant, none of this would have happened!”

  A tear falls from her eye, and she wipes it away with a swift swipe of her fingertips.

  “Katie, this is so far from being your fault I can’t even see it. Do not try and take any blame for this. You have been a victim here. Don’t blame the victim.”

  That gets a small laugh from her, but there’s little humor in it. The rest of the car ride is spent in heavy silence as she pulls into the parking lot next to my house.

  “Thanks, Katie. Are you going back to your mom’s house?”

  She nods. “Yes. She might force me to move to Florida after this week.”

  “Maybe you’d be better off. I bet alligators are nice compared to all this,” I say, waving out the window. There’s something sitting on my chest, and I have to remove it before I leave. “I’m so sorry Katie, for all of it. I should have answered my phone tonight. You shouldn’t have been the one to deal with all this after what you’ve been through.”

  Katie shrugs, and when she meets my gaze, there is a strength behind her fear that is beyond admirable. “This place was my fresh start, too. I didn’t want to be cowering at home if I could have done anything to help.”

  I reach out and grip her hand, and I give it a squeeze. “We’ll get through this, you and me. We’re survivors.”

  “That we are. Naomi? Please lock your door tonight. Please.”

  “I will. I’ll keep my phone by my head, just in case.”

  “I think everything that can go wrong has, but those are some fatal last words, aren’t they?”

  I release a dark laugh. “Yeah, well. We’ll see. Goodnight.”

  “Night,” she says.

  I shut the car door and watch her drive away, and then I turn and face my little apartment, somehow saved from the flames. I should go back to
the hotel, but I need to be here tonight. I need to show myself and Jordan that I’m not afraid.

  Or rather, I need to pick up some shit before I flee back to the damn hotel, instead.

  I purposefully ignore the building next to my cottage, tattered and charred as it is, and I shove my key in the lock, opening my front door. The place is warm, and I’m enveloped in the reassuring scent of home. I wish I could feel comforted by that, but now I don’t know what to feel. Tomorrow I’m going to have to rebuild my entire life from the rubble. I will have to find a way to rise like the phoenix from the ashes that have burned down my life.

  That’s tomorrow. Tonight, it’s time for a drink.

  I head to my kitchen and pull out a bottle of chilled white wine from the fridge. I pour myself a healthy glass, then take a sip. The wine is cool against my tongue, and even with that chill a nice warmth burns all the way down as I swallow. My shoulders lower a fraction, though I will never truly relax again.

  Not until Jordan is dead, anyway. Even behind bars, the man would be dangerous. Look at what he did with Skippy in jail. He’s capable of many terrible things. I’m left wondering how many of them I’ll get to experience personally.

  I lean my lower back against my kitchen counter and stare out into the dark reaches of my own mind. I could leave town. Start a new life, free of Jordan’s influence. I want to get rid of him. I have to shake him off. It’s the only way I’ll be able to live freely once again.

  I’m no coward. I don’t want to run away, knowing that he could always be one step behind. I never expected to see him again after Chicago, and yet here we are. If I run, there’s a chance I will always be running.

  Besides that, I’ve fallen in love with the town of Stoneport. I’ve made friends here, and the people of this town are starting to accept me as one of their own. Do I want to pick up and leave, just to be the outcast newcomer again?