The Arrangement Anthology 2(38)

Girlish giggles erupt from me even though I try to swallow them down. My emotions shorted out hours ago. My hands cover my mouth, but I can’t stop. Suddenly I see Sean’s hand fly and the next thing I know, he slaps my butt hard. My hands move to cover my stinging hindquarters and I turn to stare at him, gaping.

He grins, “What? I thought you wanted to stop laughing?”

Oh God. That makes it worse. More incoherent thoughts tickle my stomach, stopping only after Sean helps me down the steps from the jet. I stop abruptly and look around. There are tall rafters and, hay? “Are we in a barn? Seriously? We hopped in your private jet to hide out in a barn?” I must look bizarrely worried, because Sean is kind to me. Maybe he thinks my brain broke on the plane.

“It’s a hanger.”

I point to the corner, “There’s hay.”

“Yes, it’s for the horses. Where else should I store the shipments when they arrive?”

I shrug and start giggling again. “I don’t know, in a barn?”

Sean doesn’t reply. Instead he grabs my arms and pulls me from the hanger and out into the open. “Smart ass.”

“Ah, back to my ass again.”

“Your ass is going to be sore if you keep talking about it.”

“Psh, so is yours.” Yeah, I have no idea what the hell I’m talking about, but it sounded good.

That makes him look over at me. Amusement dances in his tired eyes. “I look forward to it.”

Oh, shit. It figures he’d be into anything and everything. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? I change the topic. We’ve been walking through a field. The grass is knee high, and early morning sunlight makes the dead grass look golden. It’s pretty, but it appears that we’re going to walk on forever since there’s nothing to see but grass and trees.

“Where are we?” Just as the question slips out of my mouth, I see a beautiful house. It’s a log cabin with huge shimmering windows. There’s a stream that runs behind it, cutting the golden grass in two like a long blue ribbon. My jaw drops at the same time that my feet stop. It looks like something from a ski magazine, and not one of the exclusive tailored penthouses where Sean Ferro normally resides.

“One of my homes.” His voice softens, and almost sounds somber. “Come on. I’ll show you around.” We walk up to the front, and go up the steps to a wraparound porch. As Sean puts a key in the door, I survey the area. The view from here is breathtaking. I can see the clearing we walked through, the stream, a gleaming lake in the distance, and it’s all nestled between mountains that look positively blue in the early morning sun.

Sean pushes the door open and holds it for me. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to go inside. My chest constricts as I walk past him and step into the cabin. I’m barely inside before I spurt out, “Wow.”

My neck cranes back and I stare at rafters that are twenty feet or more above my head. One end of the cabin is made from glass—twenty feet of glass. It’s insane. The view from the porch is nothing compared to the one from this huge window. I’m drawn to it, and slowly cross the cabin. The floors are dark, hand carved wood with a distressed finish. There’s a state-of-the-art kitchen with butcher block counter tops and rustic cabinets, but I don’t stop. The window is amazing. I pass a pristine white bed with a wrought iron canopy and velvety drapes that look soft enough to sniff. I bet they smell like the Snuggle bear. I’m totally smelling them later.

Stopping in front of the window, I look out and can’t help but smile. But something is way off. This seems so unlike Sean, and he’s barely stepped through the door. He’s standing there with it open behind him, like he might bolt. Turning, I ask, “What is this place?”

Sean’s eyes lock with mine for a moment, then he looks down and shakes his head. He steps through the threshold, and pushes the beautiful carved door closed without a word.

“Sean?” I’m worried about him. I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s my Sean, but he’s broken. Sometimes there are no words. I cross the room and throw my arms around his neck and hold him tight. To my surprise, he doesn’t pull back, but he buries his face in my neck. I hold onto him for a while, the way I did at the club, and wonder what ghosts haunt this place. What was this cabin supposed to be?





CHAPTER 16




When Sean snaps out of it, he looks like his old self. His defenses are up and that stern expression is back. Crap. I want to coax him back out, but Sean has other plans. He explains, “I need time to think and no one knows about this place. If anyone shows up here, we’ll know who’s trying to hurt you.”