Page 12 of Sweet Surrender
It must have been Rebelle.An idea struck her and she laid her clothes on the table, rummaging through them until she found the navy cotton dress she was looking for. Taylor folded it up and shoved it inside Rebelle’s laundry bag with the other clothes she must have taken from the lost and found box. The cute dress would do nicely for a casual wedding although it might be a little big on Rebelle judging by how slim she looked but it should fit her fine. Now at least if Rebelle decided to come to the wedding, she would have a dress.
Taylor went back to her own clothes and began folding them as Rebelle returned. They moved in silence, Rebelle putting her quarters into the machine and setting the timer while Taylor continued folding clothes that would probably just end up in a heap on the floordrobe again.
“Thank you, by the way, that was really sweet of you,” Taylor said, facing Rebelle.
Rebelle’s dark brows pinched in confusion. “For what?”
“Moving my clothes into the dryer?”
Rebelle shook her head. “I didn’t move your clothes.”
“Well then who-” A shiver ran down Taylor’s spine, cutting off her words.No, it couldn’t be Dale, could it?She’d thought she felt someone watching her earlier. Could that have been him?
“Everything okay?” Rebelle echoed Taylor’s words from earlier.
Taylor pasted a smile on her face. “Oh yeah, I must have forgotten I did it.” She smacked her hand to her forehead and rolled her eyes theatrically.
“I do that a lot too,” Rebelle replied with a slight grin.
Taylor finished packing up her clothes, her thoughts running into overdrive. As she headed out she decided that walking home this late would not be a good idea. She had a weird feeling and she knew to trust her gut so she called a cab and waited. When it pulled up outside, she made her way to the door, lugging her clothes behind her.
“I’ll see you later then,” she said to Rebelle who was sitting reading a battered magazine with Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky on the cover.
“Bye,” Rebelle replied softly with a small wave.
“Please come to the wedding. I know it’ll mean a lot to Christy, to all of us actually. And feel free to stop by the bar anytime for a chat,” Taylor added. Rebelle nodded at her but didn’t say anything, so Taylor just left.
On the ride home Taylor was on edge. She kept expecting Dale to leap out in front of the car. By the time she arrived back at her cabin she had worked herself into a state. Should she report it to Blake? Was she just being ridiculous? It’s not like Dale hadthreatenedher, he’d just put her clothes in the dryer, it was actually a nice thing to do. He had done her a favor and she had no proof that it was even him.
As she climbed the porch steps she glanced over at the cabin opposite, like she did every time now thathewas staying there. It was becoming a habit and she hated that she actually felt comforted when she could see he was there.
Was he alone?
The idea snapped her out of any sentimental thoughts that may have tried to rear their ugly head. She didn’t give a shit if he had fifty women in there and they were all naked, handfeeding him cookie dough cheesecake. And she never would.
She let herself into her cabin and felt along the wall for the light switch, relaxing when the place was bathed in light and she could see it was empty and untouched. She stepped inside, her feet crunching over something on the doormat. She shut the door, sliding the deadbolts across the top and bottom then dumping her clean laundry in her room to put away later. Or not. Yeah, probably not.
She went outside to feed her squirrels, sad that she hadn’t seen them for a few days due to her working hours. Then she came back inside and went over to pick up the slip of paper on the doormat. She flipped it over, reading the words scrawled in red ink:
You’re welcome.
*
Beau walked into The Rusty Bucket Inn and immediately felt like he was home. There was something about the place that called to him and he couldn’t stay away.Could that be anything to do with its owner?He gritted his teeth at the thought.
He was here to meet Dean for a drink but he wanted to come a little earlier to see what kind of mood Taylor was in. They were well overdue a conversation and he’d wanted to speak to her at the diner last night but her expression had, not so kindly, told him tofuck off.
Beau headed over to the bar, surprised to see that Dean was already here but so were Blake and Justine, and all were talking to Taylor.
Taylor’s curls were pulled back into a bun on top of her head, showing off the piercings running down her ears. She wore a simple pink cotton dress but the light color did amazing things for her fair skin, making her tattoos stand out even more.
She’d gotten a number of tattoos over the years and he’d discreetly tried to map them all. The collection of roses down each of her forearms, the skull and butterflies on her upper thigh he spotted once when her shorts rode up, the colorful splashes and shapes across her left shoulder and back. But his favorite one was just behind her left ear, the letter B inside a small heart.
It was her first tattoo and he’d gone with her to get it. He remembered how tightly she gripped his hand as she sat in the chair, keeping her eyes locked on him the whole time. He could still hear the harsh sound of the tattoo gun vibrating as the needle punctured along her skin. He was still able to picture her forehead pinched in pain but she didn’t cry out, just sat there and took it, as long as he held her hand.
“B for Bobby?” Beau had asked through gritted teeth, like he was the one in pain.
“Yep,” she murmured, nibbling her lip until it turned a deep red.
