I clear my throat at the emotions rushing to the surface. “Thanks ,Sheriff,” I whisper.
“For the love of God, Oakley, call me Arlo. And while you’re hiding out, think about coming to work at the office. Please. I could use your experience.”
I chuckle at his continued offer.
“I’ll think about it. Thanks, Sheriff Arlo.” I smirk, though he can’t see it.
“You’re a pain in the ass. Text me what you need.” He hangs up before I can give a rebuttal, and I laugh out loud. He’s a good guy, but he can be grumpy as hell.
“Arlo?” Willow asks from the door I didn’t even hear her open. She’s put on a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt, and I’m almost regretting telling her to cover up.
“Yep. We’re officially hiding out. He said he’ll bring us anything we need.”
“You think hiding out is the right move?”
“I think it’s the right move to get everyone out of town faster.”
“Okay.” She nods. “I have no clue what we have here, so we’ll have to do inventory. And I need to check my work email.” She cringes. “It’s a good thing I finished that book when I did, at least.”
“Easy.” I swing my legs over and climb out of bed, already feeling a million times better than yesterday. My wounds are starting to itch a little, so I know it’s on the road to healing, thankfully.
“Jesus, put some pants on or something.” Her murmur makes me smirk.
“Payback sucks, huh?” I chuckle.
She shakes her head, walking into the living room without another word.
A couple of hours later, Willow is sitting at her desk checking emails while I wait for grocery delivery from Sheriff—Arlo.
“Well, I think I just found something to do while we’re stuck in here,” she says.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” My eyes watch as she starts typing frantically. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being amazed watching her work.
“I just got back edits on the book.” I can’t tell from her tone if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
I stand up, only feeling the slight pull of the stitches in my side, and walk over to her. One hand on the back of her chair, the other on her desk, I lean over and try to work out if she’s happy or not.
“Walk me through this. Are you happy? Dreading this? What’s the process like?” I ask.
She looks up at me with a soft smile on her face.
“It’s probably really boring.”
“If it has to do with you, it’s never boring, Will.” I lean a little closer.
“Well, this is only half, but I started skimming them, and honestly? They look amazing. Usually for me, editing is the bane of my existence. There’s a ton to work through, usually some huge plot hole I fucked up, and I bank about a full month to make things perfect before sending it off for proofreading. If the notes accompanying the edits are to be believed, it looks pretty good. There’s obviously still some smoothing out that needs to happen, but my editor is loving the whole thing, no huge plot holes or rewrites needed.”
“That’s amazing,” I tell her. “How can I help?”
She cringes. “I’m not sure there’s a ton to do. If I dive in, you’ll pretty much be solo until I’m done.”
“I can handle that. I’ll make sure you’re fed and have plenty of coffee. Just like old times.” I wink.
She bursts out laughing. “Like, a week ago?”
“God, I can’t believe it’s only been a week.” I sigh.
“A lot has happened.”
