Opening the trunk, I grab my bag, as well as a bag of supplies for Flash, but now I’m assuming Jamie also has stuff for her in his house. He ushers me to the door, and I follow him into a massive mud room. I toe my shoes off, leaving them next to his, then continue into one of the largest kitchens I’ve ever seen.
“No wonder you like to cook,” I murmur, surveying the beautiful space. “I would too, if I had this kitchen.”
Two parallel islands move into a stunning two-story great room. White quartz with light gray marbled throughout, the counters are empty of clutter, except for perfectly placed decorative pieces. A giant range sits beside a double oven, and through a doorway, I can see a gigantic fridge. “Why is the fridge back in there?”
“It’s a butlers’ pantry. Or at least that’s what my realtor said when I asked about it. A giant fridge takes away from the clean lines of the kitchen. We can’t let anyone know we actually eat, you know,” Jamie says sarcastically.
Turning, I stare in awe at the floor-to-ceiling windows that cover the entirety of the back of the house, giving me a stunning view of sunset behind the Rocky Mountains. “Wow. That is spectacular.”
“Big selling point for me. I wanted a view. Plus the land behind me is a federally protected reserve, so I know no one can build back there.”
“What’s the deal with the double gate situation?” I ask, watching as he bends down to give Flash a bone.
“I’ve had some overzealous fans in the past who’ve managed to get right to my front door. I’m a private guy, and my house is my safe space. I don’t want anyone here unless I personally invite them.”
“So you’ve had stalkers?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he says hesitantly.
I walk to him slowly. “Okay. Define ‘overzealous’ for me, then.”
He exhales. “One particular person —”
I interrupt him. “Male or female?”
“It was a woman.” Of course it was.
“What did she do?”
“She turned up at my apartment downtown. I moved out to the suburbs, and she turned up there, too. So when I found this place, I bought it under the foundation’s name, and had everything moved while we were playing one Sunday afternoon. I had a private investigator who tracked her to the game, and that allowed my agent to spearhead a moving team. They had me packed and out of there in three hours.”
“Jesus, Jamie,” I whisper. “She was stalking you. That’s not okay. Does she still live here?”
“According to my PI, no. She moved out of the state a year or two ago. You want to help me get the pigs set up?” He grabs the carrier again, motioning for me to follow him.
“Nice change of topic,” I comment. “Do you think she’s someone I should be worried about?”
“No, especially since we aren’t public yet. I’d occasionally get a DM from her here or there, but I haven’t gotten anything since she moved. I really think she gave up.” I follow him down a hallway, past a guest room, and into a large office. Inside, I find a wooden cage at least twice the size of mine.
“Seriously?” I screech, pointing at it. “What the hell is that?”
He laughs. “It’s possible I misjudged the measurements. Jax enabled it, though. He wanted to buy one as well, but Becca said no.”
“At least one of you is smart,” I mumble, standing beside him in front of the behemoth cage. I reach out to touch a material covering the cage, similar to window screening. “Is this a net?”
“Kind of. It’s the thickest screening I could find. I don’t think my cats can claw through it, but I wanted to take every precaution necessary.” As if summoned by a beacon, a loud yowl sounds from behind me, then I hear Flash’s front paws trying to gain traction on the wood floors. A cat tears by me, soundlessly jumping onto the top of the enclosure, as Flash wheels furiously down the hallway. She attempts to turn the corner into theoffice, but a wheel gets stuck on the transition to carpet, and she thunks into the wall. “Well, shit. I didn’t think Flash would be involved in antagonizing the cats, too. This one is Maverick. He’s a little too curious for his own good, and I’m fairly sure he’s gone through a couple of his nine lives so far.”
“I don’t know if Flash has ever seen a cat up close,” I muse, righting her wheelchair and scratching behind her ears. “Whenever she’s at my clinic, I keep her sequestered behind the desk so she can’t get into any scuffles. She’s a scrappy little thing.”
“Just like her mom, I suspect,” Jamie says warmly, and I roll my eyes.
“No. Confrontations are not my thing. Flash has more balls than me.” As Jamie opens one of the enclosure doors, I quietly hand him each guinea pig, watching as he carefully places each one at varying spots. Bill takes off to hide in a little hut, with only his tush showing. Desmond proudly poses at the top of a staircase, twitching his nose in every direction. Frank and Norm attack a plate of fresh hay, while Burt goes right for a large carrot dangling from a rope. I scope out a large plastic bin next to the enclosure, assuming Jamie has lots of other supplies inside, and also notice a supersized bag of hay. “They don’t go through that much hay in a night, Jamie.”
“Wishful thinking, Doc,” he says, giving me a lopsided smile. “I’m hoping this isn’t the only night you stay over. Now let’s go find my other troublemaker for an introduction … well, never mind.”
A blur of black and white jumps soundlessly onto the guinea pig cage, right next to his brother, and stares down his nose at me. “I take it this is the grumpy one.”
Jamie nods with a chuckle. “Don’t take it personally if Goose doesn’t want anything to do with you yet. He’s anti-social.”
