Page 18 of Backdraft
He took it well and smiled “No, not right now. But keep it and put it in another envelope to preserve any prints that may be on it. Try not to touch it anymore.”
Trev gave me his card in case I wanted to talk further. I nodded, now feeling uneasy. It was difficult to finish the rest of our evening without thinking about the note.
I swiped my keycard on the lock. A dark room greeted me, and it was cold. The air con must have been turned down low.
I flipped the switch, and the darkness was chased away. I had a routine when in a hotel room and was religious about it. I locked the door and did a jam at the bottom, covered the peephole, checked the closet, the shower, behind the curtains and under the bed. It was a ritual. One that I started doing after being stalked by an arsonist.
In this line of work, there are crazies. One of my jobs is to determine how a fire started and if there was anyone involved.
I turned on the TV and found a channel that looped Buddha flute music. Another one of my rituals was setting out all my devices and plugging them in to charge. I always had a multi-port power/USB charger with me. I had too much stuff to just rely on hotel outlets.
I let out a sigh and turned, leaning my hip on the drawer unit.
It was a nice hotel, comfortable enough, and the bed looked cozy. All I wanted to do right now was shower and cocoon in the cozy duvet and pile of pillows.
Since arriving in Oak Creek, I'd been on the go nonstop. The dinner with Shannon had been a nice break and needed, but she’d asked some difficult questions. Then there was the police officer she’d dragged over to our table.
I’ll think about it tomorrow.
Her questions, I had to admit, had forced me to take a hard look at my life. Changes I might want to make. I'd coasted along the last few years and honed my craft. Earned a reputation that had me called to scenes in a variety of places.
Again, I wondered if I should create my own company. I love what I do and grimaced a bit when I thought about my nomadic life. I never stayed anywhere long enough to put down roots.
I kicked off my shoes and stripped down to my underwear, my long nail caught on the lacy panties. I was careful to not poke a hole. I inspected the nail. There was a catch in it. I'd file it and would then have to find a good nail salon. It was just a little thing, going to a spa, and just for me. I still liked to have my girlie moments.
My thoughts slid back to Denver and Taylor. I'd been wearing some nice lingerie then and had been quite happy that I was. But it hadn't stayed on long enough for him to notice.
I almost moaned. Being with him had been the most erotic moment of my life. There was something about him that allowed me to drop all my walls and let him in. Something I hadn't done prior or since. I'd almost missed the session on blast investigative techniques, which was the main reason I was there.
Our encounter was definitely unplanned and delightfully naughty. I honestly didn't think I had it in me, but there was something freeing about being with Taylor.
I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, remembering the weekend. I'd been sad when it was time to say goodbye. Water rained on my face and hair, sluicing down my body. It wasn't difficult to pretend my hands were Taylor's as I soaped and rinsed myself.
This was getting dangerous. It was far too easy to conjure up erotic thoughts and let my mind run away with them. I stepped out of the shower, pulled a towel around me, and wound my hair up in a second towel.
The past had come back to haunt me. We'd made a deal back then that it was just that weekend, nothing more. No complications, no entanglements, just two lonely people enjoying each other, needing comfort and connection.
I pumped face lotion onto my fingertips and massaged it in. Staring into the mirror, I wondered if I'd changed much to him. He was even hotter now than he’d been then.
Our conversation had been minimal. The connection between us clicked so strongly at the time. Memories reared up…his hands…mouth, on me, in me, and mine on him. My hand trembled, and I knocked the toothbrush against my teeth. Damn, I was getting flustered, and that simply wouldn't do.
What were the odds that we’d both wind up in the same town years later? Oh, about a million to one.
I dropped the towels and crawled between the sheets naked.
“This feels wonderful," I murmured into the pillows and snuggled deeper into the cushiony bed.
But my mind was wide awake. I flicked off the light and closed my eyes, seeing Taylor's face etched into my eyelids.
Maybe my stay in Oak Creek was going to be much shorter than I anticipated.
Taylor put a few beers in the tin bucket full of ice, popped one open, and tossed the cap on the counter before he went out to the front porch. Nothing like a cold beer on a hot day. He sat down on the chair and propped his bare feet on an antique wooden box. He'd found it in the garage, along with a treasure trove any antique hunter would relish. For him, it was just a footrest.
He tilted his head, and while he took a long drink from the bottle, he made a mental note that the porch ceiling needed repainting.
"Ahhh, that hit the spot," he told no one in particular. His words carried away on the breeze.
What a day. He'd recognized his unsettled feelings and had to ground himself. It wasn't like him to feel edgy while doing a PM. Once he'd left working in the ER and trauma, he'd managed to keep those feelings under control. With the help of therapy.
