Page 59 of Backdraft
He knew what was bugging him. It was a couple of things. First, what was all that about hot-pink skivvies? And second, she'd seemed completely different when they left the police station as to when they’d arrived. He didn't want her to be upset or worried, but he didn't want her to make light of it. This had happened before. She needed to be careful.
Hosed off in your skivvies.
Yes, he must be out of the loop, because he hadn’t heard a thing about it. The threats were getting worse, and he was glad she’d reported this to the police along with the previous incidents. Whoever had targeted her was getting bolder, and that could lead to something even more sinister.
Taylor knew he was getting more and more attached to Drea. He felt it in every way. He enjoyed her presence in his home, and while she hadn't jumped in and changed everything, he liked the little touches she’d added here and there.
Taylor knew she was frustrated that her belongings hadn't arrived yet, and they'd have to figure it out when they did. He was worried she'd decide to move to her own place.
The original plan was for her to stay while she acclimatized to Oak Creek and decided where she wanted to live. But having her around, in his home—in his bed—had turned into a luxury for him. He liked it.
He also liked how their relationship was growing. Slowly, but steadily. It was an unexpected joy to have someone share his home, his life. He hadn't realized how empty he'd been until she came back to him.
Living with Drea was teaching him a little more each day and exposing to him to the fact that he couldn't suppress the past. It always came back and bit you in the ass, always there lurking in the shadows, waiting to be dealt with. That’s what must be bugging him.
He saw her truck in the driveway and pulled in beside it. They both needed their vehicles to be ready to go should a call come in.
Taylor sat for a moment, mulling over his thoughts as he looked at the front door. He drew in a breath and got out of his truck. They'd been living together for three weeks now, and so far, there hadn't been any complications.
Sounds of her in the kitchen met him as he stepped onto the porch that ran along the side of the house.
He checked his watch and realized it was well past dinner time, and his stomach reminded him with a hungry growl that they hadn’t eaten.
Taylor pulled open the screen door and went in.
"Hey, honey, I'm home," he called out.
Drea spun around with her hand on her chest. "My God, you scared the life out of me."
Taylor smiled and walked over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to. What you got going on here?"
"Throwing some hot wings into the air fryer, cutting up some celery and carrots. I'm hungry, but it's too late to do anything bigger than that. Okay with you?" she asked as she quickly scraped the skin off a carrot.
"Yep, all fine with me." He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Want one?"
"Sure, that would be great. Nothing better than hot wings and beer."
He came over and nuzzled her neck, and she tipped her head to the side, allowing him better access to that tender spot he'd found just behind her ear.
"I can think of way better things than hot wings and beer," he murmured.
She giggled. He liked that little giggle of hers that came out of hiding when she was feeling frisky and ready for some shenanigans
"Okay, okay, all right. I'm hungry, and we can play later." She wiggled out of his grip. “I have yucky hands.”
"How can I help?" Taylor asked and rested his hip on the edge of the counter. He watched her work, and it was another satisfying element to their cohabitation.
He didn't expect her to cook all the time. They usually took turns, but he sure did like seeing her being domestic in his house. Not in a chauvinistic way of course. He liked having her here as a companion, as someone in his life to share things with. He still tried to put his finger on how they were evolving in their relationship. If it was a relationship… Whatever it was, he liked it.
He picked up a piece of celery and chomped it.
"What do you think?" she asked him.
"About?"
She looked at him, frowning. "The note, the cop, everything we just did."
"Oh, yeah, that. Well?—"
