Sweet and Salty (Marshall My Heart #1)

44. Chapter Forty-Four

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

J esse

I’m not sure what shocks her more, hearing that I won’t have potentially baby-making sex or that I was in cahoots with a mobster. It definitely makes a person sound like an asshole, saying he’s in cahoots, and I know, one hundred percent, that I am an asshole. But how can I promise her a baby, a life, when I can’t promise that I’ll be there to take care of them? To watch them grow?

Also, she doesn’t seem that surprised. I imagined wailing, or flailing, or other words that rhyme with “bailing.” Like I need to do but can’t force myself to make happen.

She sits across from me, deep lines between her brows, her posture rigid. “So. You’re telling me that the internet troll is your bitchy ex-fiancée. And you’re in witness protection because you stood up and did the right thing, but now your safety is compromised?”

“Yes. That’s about it.” I’m a little chagrined that she can fit my whole saga into so few sentences. Why did it seem so complicated?

“So what do we do?” She leans forward slightly.

“Do? I mean, I call my US Marshal contact. I tell him what’s going on, and he’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of it.” She purses her lips, like she’s testing out the words inside her mouth before speaking them aloud. “You mean…what? You’ll get reassigned?”

“Yes. And then you’ll be safe. You and your family and this whole town will never need to know about Johnny Mack or me.”

Her brow furrows. “No. I’m going to call my brother. He can help.”

She reaches for her phone, but I hold it out of her reach. “You can’t call Rory. You can’t tell him. Even by telling you I’ve put you in even more danger, which makes me even more of an asshole.”

“You stop that kind of talk right now, Jesse Vargas,” she snaps. My spine straightens at her tone. What I wouldn’t give to indulge in a little dirty school teacher fantasy—

Not the time.

“Listen to me,” she says. “My mothers always taught me not to run from our problems. We face them head on, as a team. As a family.” She takes my hand in hers and squeezes, and some of her boundless hope seeps into me. “You’re family now. We protect our own here in St. Olaf. I don’t know how they do it in Ft. Lauderdale, but Florida can go fuck itself.”

I stare at her, open-mouthed. I’ve never seen anyone more lovely. She’s a mix of Lara Croft and Julia Child and I’m down for it. “Wow. Will you marry me?” Hm. That isn’t how I wanted that to come out.

She kisses me brusquely on the cheek and steals her phone from my grasp. “Yes. But you’ll have to ask me again when you’re not in shock.”

Definitely. I will definitely do that.

She picks up one of her rainbow-colored bandanas, slipping it over her hair with one hand as she scrolls through her contacts list with the other. “Oh, my ring size is a seven. And ask my mom, please. She’s old-fashioned like that.”

Rory insists, quite rightly, that we call the US Marshal Service first, but then he’ll be around to help us out once he gets Davey to the babysitter’s house.

It’s fine. We have time.

Harbor answers on the first ring. “Thank god, you’re okay.”

“Yes, I need to talk to you.” Part of me wants to put Laura on the phone but that’s a coward’s way out. Besides, she’s cleaning up the kringle we ruined before her business has to open for the day. Why she would marry a douchebag like me is anyone’s guess.

Harbor tsks. “Are you somewhere safe? Or are you at the cabin?”

“The cabin burned down last night.” It suddenly occurs to me that this is information he might have needed.

“Damn it, Jesse, you should tell me stuff like that. What happened? Where are you?”

“I’m at Sweet and Salty. Everyone’s fine.” I gulp, not wanting to tell him everything I told Laura.

“Damn it.” Harbor sounds short of breath, like he’s running. “I’m getting in my car right now. Get out of there.”

“Why?”

“Because Esme told Johnny’s brothers where you are. We thought they were on a plane and you have time, but if your place went up in flames last night, it’s a damn good possibility they’re already in town.”

I nearly drop the phone. Laura whirls, all sweetness and sugar with her cleaning supplies and apron. “What is it?” she asks.

I grab her hand and pull her to the door. “We have to get out of here.”