Page 21 of To Belong Together
A drive forked off. The faint tire marks led in that direction, and the gate that could’ve blocked her from following stood rolled back, so she turned. Shortly after, the road stopped at a house with brown wooden siding and an attached two-car garage. A pole shed large enough for at least six cars or an assortment of tractors and equipment stood nearby. Though maintained, the buildings had been around awhile.
She’d imagined his place would be nicer.
Maybe he’d given a fake address.
Erin got out of her car and listened, but the world was silent. No sign of any dogs. The garage was closed. The small window in the half-story above the garage doors was dark. As she turned, looking for signs of life, gravel crunched under the snow beneath her feet, but the trees of the thickly wooded property seemed to eat the noise. She hadn’t felt so alone or so small in ages. Shouldn’t the quiet drive a drummer crazy?
She turned back to the house. The solid, dark brown door by the garage doors didn’t appear to be a main entry, but judging by the strip of smooth snow between the siding and a hedge, a path led around the side of the house. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her work jacket and set off.
The walk led to a landing with a decorative door. Beyond that, the path forked. One section angled away from the house, following the steep downward slope of the ground. With the snow cover, she couldn’t tell where it led. The other became a boardwalk. The railing was made of fresh, unpainted lumber. A new addition? The structure hugged the house at the level of the doorway—fifteen feet off the ground at the back corner of the home. Though curious what kind of deck someone with John’s means might have added, she resisted exploring and rang the doorbell.
I’m sorry I overreacted to your request for another test drive. Even as she rehearsed it silently, the trial run of the apology fell flat. Maybe a different approach, something about not having enough context to understand the importance of taking the test drive at five p.m. on a Friday night.
Not that she understood better now. Why hide his identity? And why had he wanted that spontaneous test drive so badly? Even if the squeak had still been there, would he have expected her to fix it on the spot?
She’d never captured a man’s serious interest. Certainly one with gorgeous women falling at his feet wouldn’t pick her out as deserving special attention unless, as she’d thought early on, he’d pegged her as an easy target. Someone he could use and toss aside. And when she’d refused his attention, as so few must, she’d only made herself a more intriguing victim.
The theory didn’t sit right. He’d seemed kind, a little awkward, and not at all crass. If he were the creep she’d accused him of being, surely his advances would’ve been laced with hints of a darker nature.
But what was with the non-disclosure agreement?
Whatever. She didn’t have to understand him to apologize and try to save the family business.
She rang the bell again.
The dogs didn’t bark. John might be away, but if she didn’t get this over with now, she’d have to come back another time. The thought of enduring her nervous gut that much longer made her press the button again.
No answer. No noise.
He could be walking the property with his dogs. If this was even his house.
She continued along the boardwalk, which led to a large deck. Benches circled the trunks of eight to ten trees—two oaks, the rest pines. The openings in the floorboards that the trees grew through yawned large enough to let the trees grow undisturbed as they spread thick branches overhead. Windows, interrupted by a broad stone chimney, made up the back of the house, probably making both outside and in feel like a treehouse.
The chimney. That explained the warmer scent she’d picked up that first day. Cedar, pine, and a warm hint of burning wood, an aroma she knew from the old stove her parents had used to supplement the furnace when she was little.
John’s house wasn’t the mansion she’d expected, but he had a haven for himself. The kind of place where even she could feel at home.
If only everything were different.
She turned to leave, but before she’d passed the main entry again, a clunk sounded from near the garage. She stopped short. Was that him?
What had she planned to say again?
A big gray dog bounded around the corner, followed closely by an equally broad and muscular brownish one. Man, they looked bigger in person than on the Internet. They froze on seeing her, then must’ve determined her a threat because they resumed their charge forward.
Erin lifted her hands out of biting range and took a step back.
Her boot struck something solid behind her, and she fell, landing seated on the step that led to the front door.
What a terrible way to die.
She ducked her head and covered it and as much of her neck as possible with her arms.
“Leave it.”
The dogs fell eerily quiet at John’s command. They didn’t back away, though.
She heard them breathing. One smacked, the other whined.
