Chapter 27

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I had talked myself in and out of the decision to bring Andrew to my house more times than I could count. And suddenly having him standing on my broken down front porch made me tempted to shout "psych!" and take off running. But if I was going to showcase pieces of my past, this was the best place to start, even if the idea made me want to break out in hives.

I unlocked the front door to the home I grew up in, caught in half a dozen different snarky comments to cut the tension before I bellyflopped on... "Welcome to my lair."

I groaned internally. What?!? That was the lamest thing I've ever said...

Decker suddenly chirped in my ear, tone hard. "Um... Delle? Please tell me you are not letting a potential murderer into your house...."

Andrew laughed. "Are you supposed to be a dragon in this scenario?"

I ignored Decker and grinned back at Andrew. "Interesting that you picked dragon out of all the animals I could be." I pushed the door open and walked inside, bracing myself to either share past history, or hopefully give Andrew a chance to reveal himself as the murderer so I could pummel him to near death without ever having to bare my soul.

"I mean, I guess I horde things... but nothing that a dragon would want."

Andrew stood in the doorway, eyes soaking in the living room, gaze trailing across everything, making me feel utterly exposed. He was becoming part of the scenery, a place filled with ghosts and a past that felt so out of place with my current lie of a life. He was a glistening new thing in an old life filled with aches and pains.

Andrew took a step inside, his gait cautious, almost like he could sense my trepidation. "This dragon won't bite," I said with a smile as I watched him.

Andrew continued to look around at my worn living room furniture and family photos with interest. "Shame," he said with a teasing smile.

I looked away, my face turning red. "Want something to drink?" Flustered, I walked to the fridge covered in well-loved takeout menus.

"We have water..." I yanked open the fridge to discover that there was nothing inside other than an expired yogurt that was now very much the wrong color. "...Water, and more water," I said closing the door quickly. "I can also make tea." I was pretty sure I had tea. I pulled open a cabinet to find... nothing. Gosh, I really didn't plan this well.

"Scratch that. I have no tea..."

I walked back into the living room with two glasses of water. "Sorry... I clearly haven't been to the store in... well ever."

I found Andrew crouched down before a bookcase and froze as his long, slender fingers trailed the spines of my all-time favorite book series with a tender touch. "Wow..." he said, eyes wide. "Someone likes Nancy Drew."

I placed the glasses on the coffee table and moved to stand nearby, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah... I was kinda addicted as a kid."

He plucked up the first book, fingers tracing the words along the cover. "You have good taste in books." Turning, Andrew smiled up at me. "You have them all."

I nodded, quiet. "I do."

It became a tradition once I became a detective. Allie and Misty made it their mission to track down every book. It was their way of bonding with me when I worked long hours. I would often come home in the middle of the night to a new book on the bookshelf. "My sisters helped me find them all."

Andrew put it back on the shelf and stood. "I was a Hardy Boys guy myself."

"Oh, we have those too. But they wouldn't all fit on this bookshelf."

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