twenty-three
Just as she came out of the bathroom the next morning, Archer disconnected her cellphone. “Taggert called,” he said.
Instead of returning the phone to the kitchen table, he focused on it and his thumbs moved across the screen. “What did he say?” she asked, straightening her towel and waiting for him to put the phone down. Her cell was all she had, there was no need for her to have a hard line.
“Asked if I spent the night,” he muttered, reading her phone. “Does he keep notes on your s*x life?”
“Sort of,” she said and that admission was enough to make him raise his head. “Looking for anything special in there?”
Her expectant brow raise was supposed to precede an apology for his snooping; instead he went back to his prying. “Old boyfriends, naked pictures, internet search hi
