Page 46 of Badges
Be that way.
He really does look distracted.
Maybe a good meal will help? In a few quick movements, I have the sorted piles of papers organized in a neat stack on an end table against the counter.
Every week I’ve gotten slightly more creative with dinner since he buys me everything I put on the list. I remember him telling me once about how good the pork chops were that his friend’s wife cooks.
There’s a part of me that wants to make them better. Then he’ll marvel at how deliciousmyfood is.
My knife pauses mid-stroke.
I want him tolikeme. Not think of me as a criminal.
But as something positive in his life.
He might be gruff and growly, yet he’s opened his home to me. He made himselfvulnerableto a total stranger.
I know he told me because of obligation. Yet he takes care of me, listens, even respects me.
Many men would have taken advantage by now.
Not Wade. Sometimes, there’s almost a tinge of sadness in his eyes that looks like it holds him back. As if a part of him really does want more, but he’s fighting it.
When that deputy bitch showed up last week, it hurtmeto see her antagonizing him.
Shit. Is he in my circle?
Stirring the gravy, I hear his steady footfalls echoing while he runs on the treadmill below. I can almost picture him sweating, breathing hard, his body flexing and pushing with every step.
Whatever discomfort he’s feeling tonight, there’s a part of me that wants to take it away.
It makes my belly tighten and my heart beat faster at the idea of soothing his pain. Of making him forget whatever he’s seen.
Or maybe it’s so I can lose touch of the world for a while myself.
I’m sliding the loaded plates on the table when the downstairs door shuts, the signal that he’s coming up.
My timing is perfect.
“Feel better? All worn out?” I pick up a cherry tomato from the salad and pop it between my lips.
His damp coppery hair is plastered to his forehead and doesn’t move when he nods.
“Some days are easier than others.” He slumps into his chair, then raises his elbow and sniffs, wrinkling his nose. “Shit, I reek. I’m sorry. I’m gonna out-smell this amazing dinner. I should go shower first.”
“You smell like a man. And don’t be silly, it’ll be cold by then.” I don’t know if I should admit just how turned on I am by it.
He cuts off a slice of meat and slathers it with mashed potatoes and gravy.
As he chews, he seems to melt into his chair. “This is amazing. How’d you learn to cook like a chef?”
I know he’s exaggerating, but it still makes me giggle. “I grew up eating nothing but air and water. I’ve spent years dreaming about what it would be like to prepare real food.” I want to add, in a real kitchen.
But I don’t even want to admit to myself how meager my childhood really was.
Wade’s gaze darkens. “I hate that you had to struggle.” His head shakes as he scoops up another bite. “I promise you’ll never go hungry here.”
The moment grows heavy, then he clears his throat and pushes up to go to the fridge. “Want a beer?” he asks over his shoulder.
