The Rescue - Nicholas Sparks [91]
“Staying up this late every night. It’s killing me.”
“For a dying woman, you still look good.”
“I haven’t had more than four hours of sleep since last weekend.”
“That’s because you can’t keep your hands off me.”
With her eyes almost closed, she felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Taylor bent over and kissed her on the spine between her shoulder blades.
“Would you like me to leave so you can get your rest?” he asked, his hands moving up to her shoulders again.
“Not just yet,” she purred. “I’ll let you finish first.”
“Just using me now?”
“If that’s okay.”
“It is.”
“So what’s happening with Denise?” Mitch asked. “Melissa ordered me not to let you leave until you filled me in on all the details.”
They were at Mitch’s house on Monday, finally repairing the roof that Taylor had so successfully put off last week. The sun was blisteringly hot, and both had their shirts off as they worked their crowbars, prying off the torn shingles one by one. Taylor reached for his bandanna and wiped the sweat from his face.
“Not much.”
Mitch waited for more, but Taylor said nothing else.
“That’s it?” he snorted. “ ‘Not much’?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The works. Just start rambling and I’ll stop you if I need something explained.”
Taylor glanced from side to side as if making sure no one else was around. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course.”
Taylor leaned a little closer. “So can I,” he said with a wink, and Mitch burst out laughing.
“So you’re going to keep all of this to yourself?”
“I didn’t know I had to fill you in on everything,” he retorted with mock indignation. “I guess I just assumed it was my own business.”
Mitch shook his head. “You know, you can use that line on other people. The way I figure it—you’re going to tell me sooner or later, so it may as well be sooner.”
Taylor looked over at his friend, a smirk on his face. “You think so, huh?”
Mitch began prying a nail from the roof. “I don’t think so. I know so. And besides, like I said, Melissa won’t let you out of here until you do. Trust me, that gal can throw a frying pan with deadly accuracy.”
Taylor laughed. “Well, you can tell Melissa that we’re doing fine.”
Mitch grabbed a damaged shingle with his gloved hands and began to tug at it, feeling as it ripped in half. He tossed it to the ground and started working the other half.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Does she make you happy?”
It took a moment for Taylor to answer. “Yeah,” he said finally, “she really does.” He searched for the right words as he continued to work the crowbar. “I’ve never met anyone like her before.”
Mitch reached for his jug of ice water and took a sip, waiting for Taylor to continue.
“I mean, she’s got everything. She’s pretty, she’s intelligent, she’s charming, she makes me laugh . . . And you should see the way she is with her son. He’s a great kid, but he’s got some problems with talking, and the way she works with him—she’s so patient, so dedicated, so loving . . . It’s really something, that’s for sure.”
Taylor pried another nail loose, then tossed it over the side.
“She sounds great,” Mitch said, impressed.
“She is.”
Suddenly Mitch reached over, grabbing Taylor on the shoulder and giving him a good shake.
“Then what’s she doing with a slacker like you?” he joked. Instead of laughing, however, Taylor simply shrugged.
“I have no idea.”
Mitch set the jug of water aside. “Can I give you some advice?”
“Could I stop you?”
“No, not really. I’m like Ann Landers when it comes to things like this.”
Taylor adjusted his position on the roof, making his way toward another shingle. “Then go ahead.”
Mitch tensed slightly, anticipating Taylor’s reaction. “Well, if she’s everything you say she is and she makes you happy, don’t screw it up this time.”
Taylor stopped in midmotion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know how you are in things like this. Remember Valerie? Remember Lori? If you don’t, I do. You go out with ’em, you pour on the charm, you spend all your time with them, you get them