The way we almost kissed right there on the courthouse steps with half the town watching.
My phone buzzes, and I grab it from the bed, hoping it's my lawyer with good news about Derek's custody petition. Instead, it's a text from a number I don't recognize.
Unknown Number: Heard you're marrying the sheriff tomorrow. Congratulations. We should talk before you make any permanent decisions. Derek.
The phone slips from my suddenly numb fingers, clattering onto the hardwood floor.
Derek knows.
Somehow, Derek already knows about the wedding, about Sawyer, about everything. Which means his lawyer knows, which means they're probably already working on some way to use this against me in court.
I sink onto Emma's bed, hands shaking as I pick up the phone and read the message again. The words don't change. Derek Morrison wants to talk to me before I marry Sawyer McKenna, and the only reason he'd want that is if he thinks he can stop me.
Another text comes through while I'm staring at the first one.
Unknown Number: I'm staying at the Mountain View Inn through Monday. Room 237. I think you'll want to hear what I have to say.
The Mountain View Inn. He's here. In Grizzly Ridge. Twenty miles from where Tommy is sleeping peacefully in his crib, completely unaware that the man who abandoned him before birth is now close enough to touch.
I should call Sawyer. Tell him about the texts, let him handle this the way he handles everything else that threatens the people he cares about. But something stops me from dialing his number, some stubborn part of me that needs to know what Derek thinks he can say that would change my mind about protecting Tommy.
Some part of me that needs to face this myself before I become Mrs. Sawyer McKenna and lose the right to make decisions without consulting my husband.
Even if the marriage is fake, even if it's temporary, once I say those vows, I won't be just Lisa Graham anymore. I'll be part of something bigger, part of a partnership that comes with expectations and responsibilities I'm not sure I understand.
The thought terrifies me almost as much as losing Tommy.
My phone rings, making me jump. Sawyer's name appears on the screen, and for a wild moment I consider not answering. Consider pretending I never saw Derek's messages, never felt that cold stab of fear when I realized he's here.
But that's not who I am. That's not who Emma raised me to be.
"Hi," I answer, trying to keep my voice normal.
"How's the packing going?" His voice is warm, steady, the same voice that's been calming my fears since we were children.
"Good. Almost done." The lie comes easily. Too easily. "Tommy's napping, so I'm making progress."
"Good. Listen, I'm calling because Margaret wants to know if you have any preferences for the ceremony. Readings, music, anything specific you want included."
Margaret Randall, the station’s trauma counselor who's licensed to perform marriages. Who's going to officiate our fake wedding in three and a half hours while the sun sets behind the mountains.
"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it." Another lie. I've been thinking about nothing else since yesterday, imagining what it will feel like to stand in front of Sawyer and promise to love him forever when we both know it's temporary.
"Lisa." His voice changes, becomes more focused. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I'm just..." I close my eyes, press my free hand against my forehead. "Nervous, I guess. This is all happening so fast."
"Having second thoughts?"
The question is gentle, but I can hear the tension underneath it. The worry that I'm about to back out, leave him standing on that ridge alone while Derek Morrison destroys my life in court.
"No. No second thoughts." And that's true, even with Derek's messages burning a hole in my phone. "I want to do this, Sawyer. I want to marry you."
The words are heavier than they should be for a fake arrangement. More loaded with meaning than either of us is ready to acknowledge.
"Good," he says finally. "Because I want to marry you too."
The way he says it, low and rough and completely sincere, makes my breath catch. Makes me wonder what would happen if I told him about Derek's texts right now, let my husband fix the problem.
