“What did you do next?”
“I invested in Nash. He’d been struggling with his construction company, and he was one of my only friends. I had the money and figured why not. We founded Landon Alder Homes and Landon Alder Construction. Again, the company took off.”
“So, you worked construction as well?”
“I handled the paperwork. The legalities.”
“You’re smart.”
“Some say I am. I see patterns easier than others. Have a focus I’ve been told is unmeasured.”
I snort. “I’d say they were right—but you are marrying me so…”
“Lilah,” he calls. I can’t help but give him my eyes. “There’s not another woman I’d choose to be my fake wife.”
I roll my eyes to deflect the way his words make me feel warm. “What came next?”
“You’d think Landon Alder Homes and Construction would be enough, but I was bored. I started helping Nash with the builds, getting my hands dirty. But it didn’t feed me the way the farm fed me, physically. I still missed it, and again, I turned to computers. Drones were starting to get big, and with my history in robotics, I designed a drone that would later secure a military defense contract and then a buyer in Europe. I sold that startup at thirty-three.”
“How old are you?”
He shoots me a wry grin. “Your internet sleuthing didn’t tell you that?”
I pout. “Perhaps I’m not the best internet sleuther.”
He chuckles. “I’m thirty-six.”
I wince. “You’re old!”
He fakes offense, but growls huskily, “Bite your tongue, little lunatic.”
His words are said with such seriousness, I can’t help the bark of laughter. It eases a little of the shock I feel after hearing about his life. Then I ask, “Why did you keep Alder’s last name?”
“A couple reasons, I think.” Briggs pushes off the counter. “Daniel Alder might have been a class A asshole, but his dad was a good man. He remained a part of mine and Mom’s life even when Daniel didn’t.Second, I think my mom was afraid if she attempted a name change or official adoption, it would cut Daniel’s ego in a way that would bring him back into our lives. She didn’t want that.”
“He never tried to have a relationship with you?”
“He did, in his own half-assed way.” He gives me his back to open the fridge. “But he really started to try in the couple years before he died.”
“He knew he was sick and wanted to make amends.”
Briggs doesn’t reply as he pulls out eggs, a pack of sausage, peppers, and cheese. “Omelet?”
“Um—” I shake off the whiplash of the change. “Sure.”
Briggs heats butter in a pan as he whips the eggs. He asks, “Feel like you know me any better now? Or am I still just a stranger?”
22
DRIVE SAFE, YEAH?
LILAH
Idon’t feel like I know the man any better than I did. In fact, three days into living with him, and all I have is more questions.
Every morning is the same. I wake in bed alone and have coffee on the back deck while Senior does his business in the yard below and my fiancé rides his beautiful burnished red horse to the falls. I’ve given up on my book.
Briggs cooks breakfast every morning, and we share it over a second cup of coffee. Our conversations have been less revealing since our first morning, even though I’ve tried to probe.
