“Is this what they call a plantation?” Alejandro asked. “I’m with Lindsey on this one. When you said cabin, I pictured rough logs, wood floors, rusty hinges.”
Ryan laughed outright as he climbed from the cab. “We don’t really call them plantation homes in the Northwest. But I guess you could say it’s kind of along those lines.” He stuck his head back in to continue speaking. “Sorry to disappoint you both. But we do have wood floors, downstairs at least.”
Lindsey wasn’t the only one smitten. The man in front of her was just as awed as she was. Neither moved as Ryan rounded the front of the truck.
It was just so regal, so mesmerizing. Tall white pillars rose up from the front porch, begging someone to climb the dozen steps and come lean against one for a photo shoot. If the lighting wasn’t quite right, she could always pose on the second floor where a long graceful balcony was supported by the pillars, with French doors exiting onto it at regular intervals. Were those bedrooms behind the tall, slender doors?
Lindsey glanced down and suddenly felt underdressed for such a house. Shouldn’t she be wearing a long flowing skirt, petticoat, and gloves? She giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Ryan asked as he opened the passenger door.
“Nothing. Just thinking.” Alex and Lindsey climbed from the cab.
“I thought you’d enjoy having the space. That way you can escape from us, get away for a while, if need be.”
“Escape?” Alejandro grunted. “I was hoping for a one-room rustic cabin where she couldn’t escape us if she wanted to.” He mumbled, but she didn’t miss a word.
Ryan shot him a glare and playfully, well sort of playfully, punched his arm.
“Hey, no need to get violent. You know you don’t want her wandering off by herself any more than I do.”
“I’ll get our stuff.” Ryan reached in the bed and grabbed three bags. “Coming?” he called over his shoulder.
Lindsey followed the two men, her gaze flitting back and forth between their huge, buff shoulders and the soft yellow home calling to her in the sunlight. “It’s so gorgeous. How is it so maintained? It looks as though someone must come out here every week to keep the gardens so lovely.”
Nestled in the woods, it was a gem, almost completely out of place. At least an acre of land was exquisitely maintained around the perimeter. Trees that didn’t belong in the forest of the Northwest rustled in the slight breeze, calling to her to lie beneath them. Spread out a blanket and read a great novel in their shade.
Well-manicured flowers reached toward the afternoon sun from their beds around the porch, yellows, pinks, blues, and purples.
In the quiet stillness, every bird within miles could be heard chirping from their perches in the trees.
She’d reached the steps and Alejandro was at her side, taking her arm to assist her in the climb.
She wanted to jerk away and toss him an annoyed glance. After all, she was perfectly capable of walking without need of assistance. She’d been doing it just fine since her first birthday. But somehow the gesture seemed perfect for the surroundings. Again she felt underdressed, as though the home knew of her indiscretion and was secretly shaking a finger at her in haughty disapproval.
It wasn’t as if she could have packed to please this house anyway. She didn’t own clothing the likes of which would do it justice.
As they reached the porch, Ryan opened the front door and reached in to drop their luggage. Alex released his light grip on Lindsey’s arm when she turned from him and wandered the length of the front porch.
Even the floor creaked beneath her light steps, and a glance down made her actually believe the home to date in the eighteen hundreds. How did they do that?
“My grandfather built this place, about fifty years ago. It isn’t as old as you’d think, but he wanted it to appear as it does, create the illusion of grandeur, a time gone by.”
“He succeeded.” She didn’t miss the fact he’d just commented on her thoughts … again, and wrapped her arms around her middle at the intrusion.
How would she get used to that?
“Sorry,” he muttered as he approached her. “I forgot. You’re just so wide open. Like a book whose pages are fluttering in the wind, discarded, the user having forgotten to bring it in from the outside. I can glimpse nearly every page, I just can’t quite read the words completely.”
He’d reached her side and lifted a hand to graze her cheek.
“Are you always this poetic, Masters?” Alejandro’s voice had a lilt of annoyance to it as though he wished he were the one to come up with such a comparison.