Chapter 18
Wyatt
The fire lit up the cabin around the hearth and I felt my way around, my fingertips lightly brushing against familiar objects.
I could make out Taylor on the couch, her silhouette partly shrouded, partly dancing in the firelight.
Her eyes followed me as I moved around the cabin, not needing to see anything.
“Make yourself comfortable in front of the fire,” I said. “I’m just going to get some candles going. I’m not sure how long this will last.”
I grabbed a handful of candles from my emergency box in the storage closet and started placing them in strategic spots around the cabin. Their gentle light cast fluttering shadows on the walls, creating an intimate, almost otherworldly ambiance.
This kind of setting always brought me solace. Now, with Taylor here, I felt that it found the romance in less than convenient circumstances.
The soft glow around the cabin deepened as I added more candles to the mix, and I heard the sound of faint rustling behind me. I glanced back to see what Taylor was up to, surprised to see that it wasn’t getting comfortable like I’d said.
Taylor had moved the couch pillows to the floor right in front of the fireplace and was busy draping one of my snuggly throws over them.
I walked over to her, my curiosity getting the better of me. As I drew nearer, I saw that she’d created a makeshift futon on the floor. It looked inviting, a nest begging for someone to sink into it.
“What are you doing?”
Even in the low lighting, I could clearly make out the beginnings of a devilish grin on Taylor’s lips.
“Come over here, and I’ll show you,” she said, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
A tantalizing knot of anticipation formed in my belly. I wanted to run for the hills, but also straight into her waiting arms. And it was with that conflict raging inside me that I went to settle in front of the fire with her.
Wrapped in the warm cocoon Taylor had made for us we huddled close, the crackling fire the only sound for a good few minutes.
“I don’t know much about surviving in the wild,” Taylor mused, a playful lilt in her voice, “but I know that we have to stay close. For body heat.”
I snorted softly, amused by her reasoning. “Not quite, seeing as how we aren’t exactly freezing in here.”
“Shh…” Taylor held a finger to my lips. “You’re ruining the moment. Just go with it.”
Her flirtatious grin was infectious, and I chuckled softly. “I’m just saying, don’t knock my handiwork with the insulation in this place. Warmth was my number one priority.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Taylor said, a playful glint in her eye. “I could definitely stand to get a little hotter.”
My heart skipped a beat and tried to leap straight out of my chest. Her way with words already had me in a state, and we’d barely started our snuggle session. I didn’t know what to expect, but if this was how Taylor came out the gate I could only imagine what was in store for me.
With that in my head, it was no surprise that I was shocked when Taylor relaxed into the pillows and shifted her gaze from my face to the flames in front of us. I looked at her a moment, my brain catching up with the sudden shift in gear.
“When we were kids, Chris and I used to build pillow forts in the living room,” she said, sounding like she was somewhere far off. “Well, it was mostly Chris. He was a master at pillow forts.”
Oh, that was where we were going. I nestled beside her, molding my body to hers with my arm slung lazily over her waist. It didn’t escape me how well we fit into each other. But I steered my mind away from that little detail to focus on her story instead.
“They started off as just piles of pillows, haphazardly placed,” she went on, lost in her memory and only vaguely aware that there was someone close by who was hanging onto every word.
“But somewhere around eleven, Chris stepped up his work. The forts were like miniature castles, with fairy lights and everything.”
Her voice was animated, carrying a sense of deep nostalgia and fondness that made my heart ache.
If I were honest, it wasn’t the sound of her voice or the story that caused the ache. But I wasn’t in the mood for that amount of honesty. Not tonight.
“You okay?” Taylor looked at me, her eyes searching mine. “You seem quiet.”
I shook off the light cloak of melancholy that had settled over me and forced a smile. “I’m just listening to you,” I replied. “I love hearing about your childhood.”
And I meant it, too. She didn’t need to know that I was also trying to deflect her attention from me to keep things lighthearted.
The warmth of the fire added to the intimacy of the space we were sharing and made me feel safe. I glanced at Taylor, who had this inquisitive sparkle in her eyes, and decided to try to meet her where she was at.
“I grew up in a small town,” I began, my voice low and hesitant. “My mom ran the local diner. It was one of those places where everyone knew everyone.”
“Kind of like here,” Taylor said with a smile, and I nodded.
“Except I was too young to go hiding some place remote.” I rested my head on her chest, gazing into the flames as scenes of my past danced in my mind’s eye.
“As a kid, I used to hang around the diner while she worked. The regulars were like family, and there was this old man, Mr. Wilkins. He was always telling stories from the war and didn’t talk about much else. ”
I paused, as if I were back in time, watching my own memories like a movie, but also reliving them like I was ten years old all over again.
“One day, he started having a heart attack right there at his table, in the middle of one of his stories.”
Taylor gave a little gasp, obviously not expecting my nostalgia to take a darker turn. She placed her arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer.
I went on, “Mom called 911, but it was so long waiting for the ambulance. I remember standing there, watching everyone panic and cry… But I’d listened to so many of his war stories and remembered one he’d told about a friend of his who’d had a cardiac episode in the trenches.
I yelled at my mom to get him aspirin, and I unbuttoned the top of his shirt so he could breathe easier.
We had to force him to chew the aspirin, and when the paramedics arrived one guy told me I’d done a great job. That it helped Mr. Wilkins.”
Silence fell over us while I was twenty-six years away, and Taylor created a respectful space for the memory to settle. I sighed, rubbing the side of my face against the light fabric of her t-shirt. It was like I was calling myself back into the present, in front of the fire with her.
“Did he make it okay?” Taylor asked, her voice soft, filled with compassion.
I nodded slowly and smiled. “He was fine, and I remember going home from the diner that day feeling like it was because of me. That I’d saved his life.
And that’s when I decided I wanted to be an EMT.
Watching how they swooped in and took control of the situation…
How everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when they got there… ”
Taylor shifted and touched a finger to my chin so I’d look at her. Her eyes were wide with surprise. “So that’s it. You’re an EMT. It makes total sense now.”
She looked pleased with herself for finally finding out what my medical background was. But I was happy to leave it there. It felt good sharing a part of myself, but I was still careful about just how much I left out on the floor. I was cautious. Guarded.
Rather safe than sorry.
“Used to be,” I said, lying back down again. “I’m a full-time author. That’s my life now.”
I hoped she wouldn’t press for details, and somehow she sensed that hope loud and clear because Taylor didn’t ask any questions, or make further comments about it.
“Hey…” Her forefinger brushed my chin again, and I tilted my face up toward hers. “Thank you for taking such good care of me. You’re amazing.”
The firelight danced across our faces and I found myself drawn to her waiting lips, leaning in. It was a soft, lingering kiss, and I savored every delicious sip of her breath. The world outside faded until it was only warmth and comfort. Until she was all I could taste, hear, feel…