They made their way to her bedroom first.
One of the firemen returned to his vehicle and came back with a stack of boxes. “Anything you want, we’ll box up for you and get it out of here.”
She nodded, grateful they had thought of that detail.
Her mind, however, was on the state of her bedroom. Yes, there had been a fire, but fires didn’t wreak this level of havoc, and Rebecca was not a slob.
Clothes were everywhere, on the floor, on the bed, even spilling out into the hall and attached bathroom. This was not how she’d left her room Friday. This was never how she left her room.
She fingered the hem of her shirt, fighting the urge to slump onto the floor and have a good cry. What the fuck was happening in her life?
“You okay, baby?” Griffen set a hand on her lower back and then fisted it in her shirt.
She swallowed back her emotions and nodded. She didn’t want to say anything and exacerbate the already vigilant stance of her mates. If one more strange thing occurred, they would likely lock her in a room for safekeeping.
She had a life. A job. A race coming up. And she would fight to keep those things in her sights.
So, how did the room get tossed? Some freaky spirit intent on messing with her? Or an intruder? Either way, the message was clear—she was pissing off the universe in some fashion.
With shaky fingers, she decided not to say a word while she easily located a suitcase and filled it with her clothes. The items in her drawers weren’t in too bad of shape. The closet didn’t fare as well, but Miles went to work filling a box with her hanging items.
The items on the floor were soaked and darkened with soot. She scooped most of them up and tossed them on the unmade bed, wincing.
She grabbed her jewelry and scrounged around locating any mementos that meant something to her. Most of the pictures weren’t salvageable, but luckily she didn’t have a lifetime of treasures in the condo. Her belongings from childhood were in boxes at her parents’ home in Arizona.
After packing up her bathroom and then hitting the kitchen, she was done.
It made her sad to think it only took them about two hours to sift through her belongings and say good-bye to the rest. But none of the furniture had any sentimental value, and most of it couldn’t have been saved. Who wanted a soaked black couch?
Insurance would cover the loss.
By noon they were done and had everything loaded in the back of the truck.
Their next stop was Griffen’s parents’, and they followed Sharon through the streets of town until they came to the base of the ski resort where his family lived. Rebecca was awed to learn that Griffen’s parents owned this gorgeous mountain home she’d envied every time she drove past it.
Although she and Sharon had been friends for a while, Rebecca had never been to this enormous, two-story log home against the mountainside. Considering she now knew how Sharon felt about introducing friends to her brothers, it wasn’t surprising Rebecca had only met up with her friend in other locations.
The house was intentionally rugged on the outside, blending in with the trees and mountains unobtrusively—rough logs and dark green trim. It was amazing, and it took her breath away. “How many of your siblings still live at home?” she asked Griffen.
“Everyone but Trace. My parents are very respectful of their privacy. We’re all adults now, of course, but Mom and Dad love having us around. They still gripe about Trace and I getting our own place.”
Miles chuckled. “You are thirty-two.”
“Exactly.” Griffen opened the truck and stepped down.
“How old are you?” Rebecca asked Miles as she followed him out of the truck.
“Thirty.”
“I’m older, and so much wiser,” Griffen teased. “We better get inside. I’m sure they’re chomping at the bit.”
His mom had insisted on preparing lunch for them, and the moment they stepped onto the porch, she opened the door.
She smiled warmly and wrapped Rebecca in a huge hug. “Welcome to the family. Rebecca, right?”
Rebecca nodded.
“I’m Carlie. So good to meet you.”
Still holding Rebecca by the arm, she gave a half hug to Miles next. “You too, Miles. We couldn’t ask for a better addition. Please, come in. Lunch is almost ready.”
Rebecca followed Griffen’s mom into the house and through to the kitchen. The inside was no less impressive, though shockingly modern and sleek in contradiction to the log cabin look of the outside. The kitchen was done in stainless steel with a gray and black marble counter and white cabinets.
Sharon propped up on a stool at the bar, still grinning.
Griffen’s father came in from the back as they entered. He was a tall man, perhaps taller than Griffen, and he surprised Rebecca by pulling her into his embrace the same as his wife had done and hugging her tight. When he released her, it was to hold her at arm’s length and smile down at her. “My son is a lucky man.” He winked while Griffen moaned at her side.