Sweet and Salty (Marshall My Heart #1)

45. Chapter Forty-Five

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

L aura

I don’t question him, not then. Not after he’s finally shared everything he’s been hiding. If he trusts me enough to tell me the truth, I trust him to keep us safe.

In seconds, we are in my car. I text Sasha and tell them to keep the café closed for the day. No use in inviting trouble.

“Where are we going?” I remove my apron and cleaning gloves as Jesse maneuvers through the streets. Not many people are out at six a.m., apart from runners and dog walkers. Even the tourists are sleeping in this morning. It’s an odd feeling, that for so many people, it’s a typical, uneventful Wednesday. But for me, my whole life has just changed.

“I don’t know.” He sounds tense, but he reaches over and rests a hand on my leg. That seems to calm him. “Where do you want to go? Should your family meet us there?”

“I don’t think they’d go after my family, right?” My business account is not connected to my personal one, although my name is listed right underneath the business title. And I never tag any of my family members in my business posts. “Digging through all the Marshalls in Wisconsin would take some work.”

He exhales. “I’m sure you’re right. I just don’t want anything to happen to them. They’re such good people.”

A warm flush runs through my stomach.

Jesse pauses at the stop sign at the end of Cherry Lane, just before the Dryden businesses. Crossing the street in front of us are Maddy Olmstead and Opal Larson, walking their twin Labradoodles. Each raises a hand in greeting. Jesse waves back, then waits for them to go, but instead Opal comes up to his window.

I fight the urge to cross my arms over my chest at the interruption.

“Hi, Opal,” Jesse says through the open window, his tone a study of calm. “Good morning, Maddy.”

A little thrill of pleasure curls deep inside me, and my shoulders relax. He’s getting to know the townspeople.

“You two are out early!” Opal swats his arm. “Late night?” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. Remembering our early morning kringle-making, I stare at her Labradoodle, Peaches, instead. Peaches is almost nine years old and over it all. I respect that. If I could spend my days lying on a rug in a library, being given treats and massages from all the town kids, I would, too.

“Oh, yeah,” Jesse replies, neutral.

“I’ll bet you were out with his friends from down south, yeah?” Maddy says. The effect on Jesse is immediate. Incrementally, every muscle in his body twitches once then freezes. “We met your friends yesterday evening, over at the Golden Rose. They said they were looking for you. Did they find you?”

Jesse’s posture could have been a textbook picture of lockjaw. So I answer for him. “Yes, thank you. We really have to be going. Have a great day, ladies.”

Opal and Maddy shrug, completely oblivious to their involvement, and continue their walk.

Jesse’s rugged face is pale, and his breathing is ragged.

I squeeze his shoulder. “Drive, Jesse. We have to go find my family.”