Page 24 of Tanner

“It’s just paperwork.”

That’s what he’d said to TJ when he pulled the folder from the cabinet. That’s what he’d said to Taylor when he raised his eyebrows and asked if he wanted him to come along. That’s what Miles had said to himself in the cruiser as he drove down Maple and saw the Fernsby place at the end of the street.

A couple of days shouldn’t have changed anything, but somehow they had. He’d gone back to that house in his head too many times. Tanner at the door, holding it almost shut to keep Miles out while also shielding Savannah. Tanner’s eyes softening for her, then hardening the second he looked at Miles.

And the way Tanner had looked at him. Miles hadn’t missed that.

He also hadn’t missed his own reaction. That had been the real problem. Two days later and he could still picture Tanner standing there barefoot, a couple of inches shorter than Miles’ six feet, long blond hair loose around his shoulders, mouth tight, eyes tired and watchful and too young for the weight he was carrying. Miles had no business noticing any of it, but he’d noticed anyway.

Miles being into men wasn’t new. He was bisexual, so that part wasn’t some surprise. This was different, though. It was too soon and badly timed.

Tanner was tall and lean, and had stayed on Miles’ mind longer than he should have. Those light blue eyes were worse. Too direct. Too watchful. Every time Tanner looked at him, Miles had the uneasy sense he was being read right back.

He parked two houses down again and sat for a moment with the engine off, staring at the folder on the passenger seat. It contained forms, utility numbers, and a list TJ had told him to pass along.

With a deep sigh, Miles picked it up and got out.

Mrs. Hemsworth’s curtains moved when he stepped onto the sidewalk. Her porch light was on this time. She opened her door before he reached the yard.

“She’s with me,” she said quietly. “Savannah’s fine. She’s had dinner. She’s asleep.”

Miles nodded. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Hemsworth’s mouth tightened. “He didn’t want to let her out of his sight.”

“I know,” Miles said.

“He let her go anyway.” Her eyes stayed sharp on Miles. “So don’t you go in there and make a mess of it.”

Miles didn’t argue. “I’m not here to.”

Mrs. Hemsworth stepped back into her house without another word and shut the front door.

Miles walked to the Fernsby porch, the folder tucked under his arm, knocked once, and waited for Tanner to open. When he did, he only opened the door a crack. His eyes narrowed when he saw Miles.

“What?”

Miles kept his hands visible. “Paperwork,” he said. “I’m not here about anything else.”

Tanner’s stare stayed hard. “What kind of paperwork?”

Miles lifted the folder slightly. “Utilities. Taxes. The stuff you said you didn’t have answers for.”

Tanner didn’t open the door any wider. “Leave it.”

“I can, but there are a couple pages you’ll fill out wrong if no one explains them to you.” Tanner’s eyes narrowed more, so Miles added, “We can do it on the porch.”

Tanner held the stare another second. Miles kept his own expression neutral, but his pulse had already started kicking harder for reasons he didn’t want to examine.

With a grunt, Tanner unhooked the chain. “Fine. In and out.”

Miles stepped inside. The house was dim and cold, the air stale like it hadn’t been lived in properly for a long time. He kept his hands visible and his eyes on Tanner.

Tanner shut the door behind him and stayed between Miles and the rest of the house for a second, as if reminding both of them where the line was, then he sighed. “This way.” He jerked his head toward the kitchen.

Miles followed him in, trying to force his eyes away from Tanner’s body but failing. The kitchen was cold too, and quiet in a way that made every small sound stand out, like Tanner’s breathing and his own heartbeat.

Miles placed the folder down and opened it. Tanner stood on the other side of the kitchen, watching him like he expected something to happen.