That same first awestruck moment of realizing he was staying in such a gorgeous place still crept up on him and left him overwhelmed. Men like Robert Adams were few and far between, and he was honestly very grateful for the help.
The open floorplan had a spacious gourmet style kitchen with a long granite-topped island separating the two rooms, making the downstairs the exact right setup for entertaining. This place was perfect and fit the doc to a T.
As homey and comfortable as the place looked, it didn’t seem as if anyone had ever lived there. That had really gotten to Landon. He spent lots of time figuring out how Robert’s barely lived in townhome felt like an old cozy blanket that he’d love to curl up in. Especially with furniture that looked fresh from a delivery carton and a kitchen full of pots and pans pristine enough they'd likely never been used for any real cooking. The refrigerator had nothing more inside than a bottle of amino acids and a package of coffee beans.
Maybe the warmth came from the pictures. The walls and tables held personal knick-knacks and frames with images that allowed for small glimpses into the doctor’s life. Pictures of his fathers and grandparents—Landon recognized the people from Avery Adams's books. There were shots of his sister and who he guessed might be their biological mother.
Interestingly enough, the pictures that he kept coming back to were the shots of Dr. Adams with other men. One looked like a college-aged Robert surrounded by teammates. Landon couldn’t identify the sport, but they’d won big by the size of the trophy. Another was of an older Robert, maybe mid-twenties, on a fishing boat the size of a small yacht. Three fishermen wore big prideful smiles, one being Robert. All held a large catch of the day. There was no way to know which of them had actually caught the giant fish.
Another picture that captured his attention had to be a love interest. It was a snapshot of Robert and another man, both dressed in tuxedos. In all the pictures, Robert's natural handsomeness shone through, but in this one, in clothes that looked made for his body, he looked spectacular. Robert was truly gorgeous in every way. The expression on his face, the unguarded look and bright smile—yeah, that one did it for Landon. He had snapped a picture of the photograph, just to make sure he always knew exactly how Robert looked in the one shot.
Just like Landon had done every day since he’d moved in, he bypassed the living room and went upstairs to the spare bedroom. He pretty much lived in that room and spent all his time there. As much as the house needed people, he wasn’t the one to do that.
The first day he had arrived, the housekeeper who answered the door already knew his name—that had been surreal. But he'd taken it in stride. He’d gone out and explored his surroundings, excited to discover he was in walking distance of everything. That was a nice bonus, and from what he could tell, the neighborhood was a mix of young and old with different ethnicities. They all seemed to live in harmony in their fashionable walking shorts and knit tops.
But the number one thing on Landon's ever-growing what-the-fuck list was the Cadillac CTS-V Coupe sitting in the garage. The key fob had arrived by courier on the same evening he had arrived at the townhome. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes when he read the note, written in Robert’s efficient handwriting, letting him know he was welcome to use the car. Landon had dropped the note on the counter and rushed to the garage. After having an internalized shit fit over the vehicle, all he could do was shut the garage door and never dare open it again. No matter how badly he wanted to accept the offer, there was no way he could repay all the kindness he’d already been given. He sure as hell couldn’t pay the damages if he wrecked the expensive loaner.
Behind the closed door of his guest bedroom, Landon immediately snagged the remote control off the nightstand and turned on the television. The background noise helped absorb the loneliness he’d experienced lately. He didn’t bother to check the channel or adjust the volume from whatever he had watched this morning.
After stripping to his T-shirt and underwear, he picked up his laptop and dropped down on the bed. Another habit he needed to break was how he checked his personal email at least fifteen times a day. There was a message from his dad, which was actually from his mom. Quickly doing the math, he calculated the time difference between Texas and Germany. He hadn’t told his family about his accident or that he was back in the United States yet. He didn’t want them to worry, and he didn’t want to have to explain how he ended up in this condition. Outside of a straight-up lie, he just couldn’t stand to hear the disappointment that they’d have in him for fucking something up again.