Two
Taylor
I walk out of the courthouse with the need to get to the gym. It’s not even to be healthy; it literally clears my mind to get on a treadmill and run. I shouldn’t be this stressed out. I’m a twenty-five-year-old single female, no dogs, and for sure no cats. Don’t get me wrong; cats are cute and cuddly, but I like to breathe and not die from anaphylactic shock.
The sun is shining, so I grab my sunglasses from my bag, not paying attention to my surroundings when I’m jostled from behind.
“Sorry about that,” I hear a murmured as the person who hit me scurries away.
“Everyone is always in a rush,” I say under my breath. I secure my bag on my shoulder and head toward the parking lot. It’s time to head home, change for the gym, and get in my hour of a mental health break. I grab my keys and phone, frowning when I see a text from my brother, Travis.
Travis: Get to Nighthawk Security now. Slade is waiting for you.
Me: Cryptic much?
I totally regret telling him about the two random letters I received in the mail last week.
Travis: I don’t have time for this shit. Go now.
Me: Fine, I’m going. Be safe, love you, brother bear.
Travis: Thanks. Always, little sis.
Now that my evening plans are ruined, I head for Nighthawk Security instead of my house, and I really wanted to hit the gym up tonight too. Knowing Slade and all of the other guys that work with him, I’ll be lucky to get home at midnight. This Friday really is shaping up to be garbage.
It takes me no time to get to Slade’s office, and at least traffic is minimal, especially with it being the five o’clock hour. Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself to see Slade for the first time in over three years. Even back then he would take my breath away, and it was usually through a grainy video call. The man who Travis said barely smiled, would smile for me. It caused me to blush every time our weekly calls happened.
I flip down my visor mirror, reapply some lip gloss that is gone from this morning, and then step out of my car with my purse in hand. “It’s now or never, Taylor Marie Daniels. Time to suck it up, buttercup,” I mutter. I should have never said anything to Travis. He’s a worry wart. The two letters are nothing, I figured maybe it was someone playing a prank. It’s not like my job is high security. I literally document what is said in a court of law the entire time the session is in progress. Even if I wanted to mess something up, it’s not even a possibility with the way everything is recorded now. So, I know it couldn’t have come from a disgruntled case.
“Taylor, get your cute ass in here already,” Bridger says as he holds the door open.
“Well, well, well. Don’t you clean up well,” I say with sass. Last time I saw him, he was overseas and had dirt caked all over his face.
“Don’t tell Slade that. He’ll likely kick my ass.” Bridger envelops me in a hug, something I haven’t had since the last time my brother was home from leave. I swear he takes the minimal amount of time off and then goes back. Even when he’s eligible for retirement, he’ll likely stay right where he is.
“Yeah, right.” What he said can’t possibly be true. I’ve lived here for years now. Slade has had plenty of opportunity to make his move; it’s been his choice not to. Of course, Travis did always tell me to stay away from him. I always assumed it was stupid macho man crap, but maybe there’s something more to his reasoning.
“How have you been? You couldn’t have stopped by and brought some cookies after all these years?” he fires off. His hair is haphazardly over his forehead. He has the boy next door look, yet you know he’s not. To me, though he’s more of a brother.
When he lets go of our hug, I step back, place my hand on my hip, and tell him, “I’m pretty sure that can work both ways.”
“You’re not wrong, but I wasn’t about to wake a sleeping bear.” He winks as he uses his arm to tell me to move my butt and stop letting the bought air out.
“We’ll just agree to disagree on that,” I tell him as I walk inside. A hard chest is what I run into, and that’s what I get for smoothing down my skirt and not watching where I’m going. Today is not my day.
“Oomph,” I grunt. The hands that are holding me by my upper arms leave me with goosebumps pebbling my flesh.
“Taylor.” I’d know that voice anywhere. It’s a deep baritone with a hint of rasp to it. It’s one that had me clenching my legs together anytime I heard him, just to soothe an ache that always formed when he was around.