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“I’m a therapist, remember? Listening is kind of my thing,” I said, dipping a hunk of cornbread into my bowl and ripping some off with my teeth.
“Yeah, it’s hard to put away those well-honed instincts, isn’t it?” he said.
“It is. You know, I can’t believe I never asked you about this, but what kind of work do you do now? I see you at your computer every day, and I hear you typing, but I have absolutely no idea what it is you’re working on.”
He chuckled. “I do cyber security for different corporations. I’m a freelancer, but I’ve been doing it for long enough now that my name gets passed around, and I work pretty consistently. It’s been good to me.”
I took another bite of my dinner. “That’s kind of a departure from being a detective.”
He shrugged. “I went to the police academy right out of high school, but I was taking computer science classes at community college at the same time. By the time I made it into my third year as a patrol officer, I had enough units to transfer to U of Tennessee.”
I chuckled. “I see that I’m not the only one who worked hard.”
He shrugged. “Being a cop doesn’t pay all that much, so I wanted the chance to do some other flexible gigs on the side to bring in some extra money.”
“Makes sense.” We ate in silence for a little bit before I asked quietly, “Do you miss it?”
It was the same question he’d put to me when he’d been asking me about my work as an art therapist, and I could tell I’d touched a bit of a nerve when he stopped eating completely. His fingers wrapped around his fork, and he took a deep breath before he finally answered, “Sometimes. Not really.”
Time for a walk-back. “Sounds complicated.”
“It is.”
I didn’t want to push any harder and ruin the gentle routine we’d fallen into, so I decided to ask him how he’d come to adopt Bucky. That had been the ticket, and he started telling me all about how he’d been back here for about three months and started getting antsy about being alone all the time. At the same time, he couldn’t stomach the idea of getting some place in town, not when being around people—any people—sent him into such a tailspin.
It was a feeling I knew well, and the idea of being torn in those two different directions was certainly enough to drive you crazy. I told him so, and he grinned.
“Then,” he said, “I went down to Hank’s shop one day, and it turned out that someone had abandoned a German Shepherd mother and her puppies out behind the garage the night before. Hank had taken them to the local shelter. I don’t know what made me go there because I wasn’t really thinking about getting a dog, but our eyes met and that was it. I knew he was coming home with me.”
I laughed. “Love at first sight, huh?”
He smiled back at me before reaching down to rub Bucky behind the ears. “Only time it’s ever happened.”
“Why’d you name him Bucky?”
“After Bucky Barnes,” he said, scratching the dog under the chin.
Interesting. If he was an Avengers fan, he’d certainly picked a specific and unique choice. I would’ve thought someone like him would’ve gone with Rogers and played up the whole Captain America thing. Although…
“Do you see yourself as a Winter Soldier?” The words came out before I could help them, and his eyes snapped up to mine in surprise. Surprise, but no recrimination.
I kept going. “Someone who’s been irrevocably changed—some say damaged—but still worthy of redemption?”
He swallowed. “I wouldn’t have taken you for an Avengers fan.”
I shrugged. “Cooking, Avengers… I’m a woman of many layers. I’m like Shrek—peel back a layer of my onion and you never know what you’ll find.”
The shock and borderline anger faded from his face at that, and I was rewarded with a smile at that. “Like early 2000s cartoon references?”
“Exactly.”
He grinned at me, reaching forward to pull me on top of him for our usual make-out session, pressing a deep kiss to my lips as if he was dying to taste me. “I can think of something else that I’d rather peel off.” His hands reached for the hem of my shirt, and he met my eyes carefully to make sure it was okay with me. My heart gave a painful thump at that, as if he’d jump-started it, and I smiled down into his mouth. The fact that he was being so cautious with me, despite the fact that we’d already gone as far as we could go…
“Go for it.”
* * *
When I woke up the next day, I felt satisfied and replete… and more than anything else, I was quite disconcerted by it. I was getting extra comfortable here, and as I sat up in bed, the thought suddenly struck me that I could actually see my life unfolding here, every day, as it had… except for the fact that I wouldn’t be waking up in this bed, but in the one down the hall, with Dillon’s big hands wrapped around me and coaxing me awake in the morning.
