-o-o-O-o-o-
Monday morning she leans up on one elbow with the quilt tucked around her and watches him pack his bag. He packs light; socks, boxers, a clean shirt. He disappears into the bathroom and returns tying his tie. He bends down to kiss her and she grabs it, keeping his mouth on hers, teasing his lips open with her tongue. He tastes like toothpaste. He braces himself with one knee on the bed and slips a hand beneath the quilt, fondling her.
"Mmmmm." She murmurs.
"I gotta go," he says, but his thumb continues stroking and he leans in closer.
"I know," she says, reaching for his belt.
He backs out of reach, pulling the quilt all the way off, and his eyes travel slowly down her body. It feels incredibly wicked to be lying here naked while he remains fully clothed. She looks up at him and bites her bottom lip. "I'm going to miss you," she says.
"It's just a couple of days,"
Curling a finger, she beckons and he lowers his mouth to her breast, making her gasp. She loosens his belt and tugs the jeans down over his hips. She opens her legs to him and he pushes in with a groan. "God," he breathes in her ear. "I can't get enough of you."
She answers him with a deep kiss and a thrust of her hips.
After, he rolls off, staring at the ceiling, breathing hard. "Shit. I'm gonna be late."
She giggles. "You better get goin' then, Cowboy."
He stands, buckling his belt, looking down at her with a half-smile on his face. "I ..." he starts, then his face reddens and he swipes a hand across his mouth. "I'll call you if I can. Otherwise, I'll see you on Wednesday night." Shrugging into his jacket, he pulls a key off his key ring and hands it to her. "You can stay here while I'm gone, if you want." He looks as if that would please him, so she nods.
"Lock up when you leave, okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be sure to do that." She rolls her eyes. "I'd hate for someone to steal all your nice stuff."
He swats at her with the pillow, then gives her a quick kiss, grabs the hat, and he's gone.
-o-o-O-o-o-
She stays at his place because she said she would, and besides, Katie is working the night shift at the hospital, so she'd be alone wherever she was. At least here she feels close to him. She doesn't intend to snoop. Not really. After Raylan calls very late, waking her up, she can't get back to sleep. Wandering into the bathroom she finds the shirt he wore yesterday hanging on the door and slips it on, rolling up the sleeves. She turns her face to the collar and breathes him in.
There's a chest of drawers pushed into a corner of the bathroom. Curious, she tugs the top drawer open to find neatly folded undershirts and a stack of envelopes. She turns the top one over and peers at the return address. Givens with a route number and a Harlan, Kentucky address. It's dated less than a month ago and slit open neatly at the top.
She holds it for a moment, considering , then she picks up the stack and leafs through them one at a time. All the envelopes are from the same address, in intervals of about three weeks and they're all written in the same neat half-print/half-script. She replaces the stack, keeping the first letter she found.
Gingerly, she draws the paper out and unfolds it. It's a single page, back and front, and the signature simply reads Love, Helen. His aunt. The one who dug the buckshot out. Guiltily she turns to the beginning of the letter. She scans the first paragraph, then, conscience stricken, folds the letter and replaces it in the envelope, setting it back on top of the stack and closing the drawer.
She slides the second drawer open. There's a square frame face down on top of a folded sweatshirt. She expects a picture but when she turns it over it's a certificate for 'Excellent Marksmanship". It's signed and dated five years ago. The third drawer is empty and the last drawer holds only an empty gun case, three boxes of bullets, and the gun cleaning kit she's already seen him use several times.
She gets herself a beer from the fridge and flops on the bed with a sigh. So much for investigating. He's as much an enigma as he was an hour ago.
