Page 95 of Things Left Unsaid

Though that question leaves me floundering because he’s not wrong, I don’t have a chance to answer as we stop outside a door.

Instead of leaving me the first chance he gets as I expected, Callan steps inside and settles on the edge of my bed. “This used to be my mum’s suite.”

I glance around the elegant space, aware that my entire apartment could fit inside thisoneroom.

Hell, maybe my neighbor’s too.

Despite his presence, I raise my arms and twirl in a circle. “One thing you don’t get used to in a city—the lack of space.”

He glowers at the comforter. At least, I think that’s the target of his ire. “I traveled when I was real small. I remember how crowded it was. Just sharing oxygen with so many people felt arduous.”

My lips curve. “You don’t strike me as a natural rancher, Callan.”

“Very perceptive of you,” he demurs. “I’m not. I hate it. But I love the land and seeing as the internet’s a thing, I can help Colt out in other ways. He loves being on the range, I don’t, so it makes sense for me to help him run things behind the scenes.”

“You’re only eighteen though.”

“I could run this place blindfolded by the time I hit sixteen. I warned Colt that Father was mismanaging it. He tried to stop him but what can you do when the head of the company is so short-sighted, not even glasses can help him see?”

I drop my purse onto the bed as I read between the lines. “You aren’t going to university?”

“If I bother with it, I’ll attend online.”

“You should experience city living,” I reason, seeking the keys to the locks on my suitcases from the inner pocket of my purse. “Even if it only makes you appreciate the ranch more.”

His brow puckers. “Why would I do that? That’s illogical.”

“Humansareillogical,” I assure him as I move over to an antique vanity beside which my bags have been stacked. “You never heard of that saying, ‘The grass is greener on the other side?’”

Which is pretty apt for my current state of mind… Unable to credit that this is my room, my hand smoothes over the walnut vanity. I’m in Lindsay Korhonen’s suite with furniture that’s worth a fortune, on Seven Cs’ turf without being shown off the land with a shotgun up my ass.

In the words of Christy ‘Tee’ MacFarlane, ‘Shit be crazy sometimes.’

I turn to face my new brother-in-law.

A Korhonen.

Crazier still.

“I like it here,” he dismisses.

“Maybe you’d like it out there better. You won’t know if you don’t try it.”

His frown deepens. “Do you want to get rid of me?”

“Why would I need to?” I chuckle at his suspicious squint. “I’m telling you what I’d tell my teenage brothers if they opened up their ears long enough to listen to me.”

His expression turns curious. “They’re in my class.”

“I’m sure, at some point or another, you’ve called them idiots.”

He grimaces. “Maybe.”

Smirking, I grab my carry-on and lay it on the ground. “As I suspected.”

“It’s not because they’re McAllisters. They’re just dumb.”

I only hum as I set my drawing pad to the side on the hunt for the pajamas I intend on wearing for the rest of the day.

---