“Brent,” she says.
“Money isn’t an issue.”
“I know you’re a successful doctor, but still.”
“Amber.” I look at her with a little smile. “Money’s not an issue. And not just because I’m a successful doctor.”
She cocks her head slightly. “What?”
“I told you that my family is odd, right?”
“Yeah, you mentioned it.”
“Well… you don’t know the half of it.” I squeeze her leg again then let it go. “I’ll tell you later. But for now, just trust me, okay?”
“Okay.” She says the word like a whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”
“You’d figure out something. You’re a smart girl and resourceful. And fucking strong. Anyone that survives what you’ve gone through already is strong.”
She bites her lip but doesn’t say anything.
“I know it’s hard right now,” I say. “But believe me, I’m going to take care of you from here on out.”
“I believe you. If you believe my story, I think I can believe you.”
I smirk at her. She reaches out and takes my hand then leans her head on my shoulder.
I drive the rest of the way in silence, letting her hand hold mine, letting her body move close.7AmberBrent lives on the opposite side of town down a long, quiet winding road. We turn into his driveway and slowly move past trees waving in the light breeze until a cabin materializes up ahead. He parks out front and kills the engine.
“This is it,” he says.
“I imagined you living in an apartment.”
He laughs a little and climbs out. “Why?” he asks before coming around to my side.
“I don’t know,” I admit. He helps me down and lets me lean on him as we walk to the front door. “I guess you just strike me as a city guy.”
“Ouch.”
“It’s not a bad thing.”
“Well, you’re wrong. This is home.”
I hesitate. “Your accent. You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”
“I’m not,” he admits. “I’m from Virginia. At least, that’s where my family’s from originally.”
“How’d you end up here?”
“I listened to that Lyle Lovett song and took it literally.”
I bark a laugh. “The one about Texas wanting you anyway?”
“That’s the one.” He grins at me. “Steps. Ready?”
“Ready.” There are only four, but he helps me up each one, being careful. There’s almost no pain at all. “So you’re a country fan.”
“Not really. I guess. I don’t know.” He laughs and opens the door. “You can just call me a music fan.”
The inside is not what I expected at all. I was picturing bare wooden floors, gaps in the walls, a rundown little shack. From the outside, it’s pretty unassuming and plain.
But the inside is gorgeous. There are big windows on the other side of the cabin overlooking the forest as it bends down and away. The yard is steep but the view is insanely gorgeous. His kitchen is new, all marble and tiles and sleek gleaming appliances. There’s a living room, an enormous stone fireplace, a black wood-burning stove, and so many records I can’t even begin to count.
“Wow,” I say with a laugh. “This is…”
“I had it built,” he says. “When I moved out here. I figured I’d make something nice for myself.”
“This is incredible.”
“Thanks.” He helps me over to the kitchen island. I lean up against it. “I have a guest room upstairs, it’ll be all yours. I need to make it up though. Right now it’s sort of my office.”
“I don’t want to take anything away from you. I can just sleep on the couch.”
“No way. Your leg will ache like crazy.”
I smile despite myself. It’s hard to imagine a person that actually thinks about my pain more than I do, but he seems to have it on his mind at all times.
“Well, okay. I guess.”
“And we’ll get you clothes and stuff tomorrow. I’ll run out for the essentials in a little bit. Want the tour first?”
I nod. “Please.”
He gestures around him. “Kitchen.”
“I see that. Cook much?”
“Not really. I’m in the office all the time so I just eat out.”
“It’s a nice kitchen. Maybe I’ll break it in.”
He grins. “You do that and I’ll never let you leave.”
There’s a gleam in his eye as he says it and I feel myself blush a little bit, a nice, warm sensation.
“Anyway, come on.” He helps me along, back to the big, huge windows. “I own the land around here. Everything you can see right now, I own it.”
“Wow.” I stare out at the trees. “It’s really something.”
“I think so too. It’s the sort of place I want preserved, you know? I’ve had offers, but I’m not selling.”
“Since you don’t need the money.”
“That’s right. And plus, I don’t want some fucking mall in my back yard.”
I smirk. “It would really enhance the view.”
He sighs dramatically. “But the traffic would be a nightmare.”
I laugh and he helps me along. There’s a small gym, a garage that’s mostly filled with tools and wood scraps from some project he’d been working on, a laundry room, and a bathroom.