"But when a man is mysterious, he's hiding a wife, a pile of red flags or bodies." She tilted her head thoughtfully and added, "Possibly all three."
His deep laughter filled the cab of the truck. "Come on. That's a little sexist," he said, giving her a look.
"Mmm think of any men you've arrested in your career. And their mysterious ways."
He frowned, thinking. She could feel him logging past arrests quietly until his look of skeptical disbelief turned to frowning realization.
"I'll be damned. They were all lying criminals. But, I'm a police officer. Kind of in the job description to be dealing with those kinds of people."
"Okay then, think of any of the men you've ever known, outside of arresting them, who were mysterious."
Another round of him thinking and logging and then a slow smile took over half of his face and he cursed. "I had a roommate in college who got super weird and mysterious, turned out he had joined a supremacist gambling ring. And my Uncle Fred who was secretly stealing half a million dollars from the company he worked for, and also had a whole other family a few towns over."
She was looking at him with shock. "Those are both incredibly extreme. A supremacist gambling ring? How?"
He shrugged. "I didn't have to share a double for half a year. That's what I focused on," his grin made her shake her head. "But you've convinced me; men as a general rule should not be mysterious."
"This is what I'm saying. So, Cleopatra will come with us."
They rode in restful silence for the short drive. He turned onto a dirt road that wound through land she vaguely remembered from last night under the weeping willow. The road turned and went up a large hill once they crested it she smiled at thebeautiful cabin that he had called, "little" the other night but really, was a sprawling ranch with a large front porch that looked like it might wrap around with a window in a gabled roof.
They got out and he led her up the steps.
"Wow," she said looking around the wide plank porch and the large glass and wood door.
"Wait until you see the inside."
He ushered her inside and she almost let out an embarrassing sound as she stared in awe. The entire back of the cabin was windows. Large windows made it look like they could fall out of the house and into the slow-moving river it overlooked. Though, there was another deck with one lone chair and a sad looking plant.
The windows continued on one side of the house so it looked like the entire corner and back were a panoramic picture of the outdoors. The kitchen was on the other side, smaller windows breaking up the wall space where there weren't cabinets. A large island with wood stools looked like it had recently been cleaned, or rarely used.
"Taylor, this is..." she turned in a circle, noticing a small staircase leading somewhere. There were the world's most comfortable-looking sectional couches in the living room that she had the urge to sink into. She walked up to the back window, careful not to touch it, but shook her head at the view. It was like being half inside, half outside. "This is incredible."
"You like it?"
She nodded in silent awe. The river danced down a decline of rocks like a miniature waterfall and then moved lazily along its winding body. There was a line of trees behind it that she knew would look full of glorious reds, oranges and golds in the fall, but now were budding with bright green.
"I built this place over the last three years. Took time to save up and get all the materials to make it exactly how I wanted. I want you to stay here."
Her head snapped up to where he was now standing next to her, watching her. "What?"
"I haven't moved in yet. I still have my house in town and I'm planning on putting it on the market this summer." He shrugged. "Or maybe I won't. Keep it, rent it out."
"I don't understand," she said.
He pulled in a deep breath and turned to look out the windows, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets. "I don't like walls either. I didn't have a great childhood. Had my share of running and hiding. I've never cared for being fenced in. For most walls are security. But for some people, people that go through things," he looked at her, the sadness and understanding in his eyes making her heart lurch. "Walls are traps. I always felt safest outdoors." She wondered about the incomplete picture he'd created of his childhood. "Growing up I basically lived outdoors camping in the summer." He had a wistful smile on his face.
"So you built this," she said and he nodded. "But this is yours. I can't stay here."
"I'm not planning on moving in for a few months. And it's just sitting here. You should use it, at least until we find your guy. I don't love the idea of you spending dark nights sleeping outside where anyone has access to you, especially him."
The reminder of him, of seeing the back of him leaving, and she was sure it was him, made her skin itch. She looked out over the land. Wide and open and unrestrained. She hadn't felt secure in a long time, not since she had woken up into a nightmare.
"Stay," his voice was soft, imploring and when she looked up at him again, he was closer and looking at her in that way that made everything flip inside of her.
It made her wish he could say other words to her.
And when his eyes flicked down to her mouth it made her want to imagine what it would be like if he picked her up and carried her to that large couch.
