I felt like an excited puppy, my six steps equal to Sean’s one long stride as I followed him up towards the house. A long trail of steps curved up and around the property leading into the established garden that momentarily shielded us from the open. My skin instantly cooled in the shade of the towering gums and bottlebrushes. Stepping up onto the final landing that led towards the windows, I looked back out over the lake and my breath hitched. It was one thing to look at the lake house from below in the water, but from here, looking out, it was another thing entirely: the long stretch of glimmering water met with the distant backdrop of lush, rolling ranges.
I felt the press of Sean next to me, following my line of vision.
“Not bad, huh?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful.” I turned to look towards the windows, and noticed on closer inspection that they weren’t actually windows. I stepped forward, touched the frames and examined them. My head snapped around to Sean who watched silently on with his arms crossed and a devilish glimmer in his eyes.
“These are doors. You put doors in?”
Sean said nothing. Instead, he bent down to the front doormat, flipped the edge up and retrieved a key. I arched my brow.
“That’s not very original,” I mused.
“And now you know my secret, so I may just have to kill you.”
“Well, can I look at your house first?”
“Is that your final request?” He slotted the key into the lock, a dimple forming in his cheek as he smiled. My heart spiked, but I quickly put it down to the excitement of being here at the lake house, definitely not down to Sean’s dimpled smile.
My focus snapped back to the doors. With great delight, Sean peeled back the wall of glass, pushing the doors sideways like a giant concertina, instantly exposing the inside to the out. What once had been aligned with large wooden latch windows had been replaced by large bi-folding doors. It had transformed the dated-looking lake house into a sleek, more modern home. I went to step inside but paused, casting my eyes down at my sodden clothes.
“Oh, um, I’m pretty wet,” I said. “I don’t want to make a mess.” I pulled at my soppy clothing.
“I’m sure the Murray pine floors can take it.”
“Holy crap, you have Murray pine flooring?” I charged inside, forgetting the wet footprints I left behind. I entered the massive open space, my eyes trailing upwards to the cathedral ceilings. I turned around in a daze as my bare feet padded on the cool, high gloss floorboards. The light that flooded through the now giant opening of the bi-folding doors shone on the flooring, making it look like glass. An imposing brick fireplace ran from ceiling to floor. I could only imagine how inviting the lake house would be in winter – hell, anytime of the year; it was simply amazing.
Sean stood casually to the side, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched me circle around like I was Charlie in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.
I paused, unable to hide my confusion.
“Where’s your furniture?” The living area was massive all right, even more so with the lack of any semblance of someone living there … at all. Aside from several boxes that lay in the corner, there was nothing else. Nothing. The place was empty.
Sean shrugged. “I just had the floors re-polished.”
Okay, that made sense.
A faint breeze blew in off the lake. I instinctively wrapped my arms around my body.
“I think we best get you out of those clothes.”
“WHAT?” I said a little bit too loudly as I spun around to face Sean, who was wickedly grinning at me, holding up his hands.
“Hey, you need to get your mind out of the gutter; I just meant you’re wet. You’re going to get sick if you stay in those funky clothes.”
Ha! It was summer; they wouldn’t take long to dry. Seeing as the word ‘funky’ was in Sean’s vocabulary, I felt rather uneasy and wanted to secretly smell my sleeve.
Oh God, do I smell like funky lake water?
Sean disappeared for a moment and I took a chance to smell my hair and feel my arms. I had smelled better; only faint remnants of the morning’s conditioner remained.
Sean came back from the hall that led out into who knew where and flung me a towel much like he had the life jacket, both of which hit me in the face.
“You can use my en suite if you want. The main bathroom is out of action.”
“What’s this?” I juggled my towel under my arm as I held out another piece of material I hadn’t realised had been bundled with it. It was a black T-shirt with yellow piping and the emblem of a tiger on the back with ‘Murphy’ in block letters sprawled above it; it was an Onslow footy T.