When Lennon woke, she was in a beautiful, sunlit room with a large four-poster bed and lavender chintz duvet. It was very feminine and then she realized she may have made a mistake. Brooks might be married.
“Of course he is,” she muttered, staring at the ceiling.
“Of course he is what?” said the decidedly feminine voice. She bolted upright, staring at the gorgeous woman. She was tall and shapely, with thick lustrous hair.
For a moment, she was angry, then she realized that the woman was a feminine version of Brooks and Mitchell.
“You must be their sister,” she said cocking her head.
“I am,” smiled Marilisa. “I’m Marilisa. This used to be my cottage before I got married. We use it for guests now. My brothers are with the other men in the auditorium. When you’re awake and refreshed, we’ll grab some breakfast and head over there.”
“I-I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I’ve taken care of that,” smiled the beautiful woman. “I’ve left several pairs of jeans, some blouses and tees, and brought some shoes for you based on the size you were wearing. In the bathroom is toiletries and make-up, all made by Avery Crawford.”
“Oh my gosh! Seriously? I love her things.”
“The very one,” smiled Marilisa. “She’s a family member. I’ll start coffee. Take your time.”
Marilisa left the room, closing the door behind her. Lennon jumped up and got into the shower, quickly washing her hair and scrubbing with the delicious shower gel left for her. It smelled like vanilla and jasmine, the silky soft suds coating her skin, instantly making her feel better.
Realizing she wouldn’t have time to dry her hair, she twisted it into a knot at the back of her head, securing it with a large clip.
She was shocked to see how well the clothing fit and that it was all brand new. As she looked around the room, she noticed the paintings, furnishings, and even the drapes all seemed antique or custom-made. It was some of the most gorgeous, high-quality furnishings she’d ever seen.
Opening the bedroom door, she followed the scent of coffee and smiled as Marilisa turned around with another woman, equally as beautiful.
“Lennon, this is our mother, Ramey.”
“Oh. Wow. I thought you were sisters,” she said staring at the two women.
“We get that a lot,” laughed Ramey. “It’s very nice to meet you. Is there anything you need? Anything I can bring over for you?”
“No. Nothing. Whoever gathered everything in there is a pro. It all fits perfectly and the bathroom items are amazing.”
“I had help,” smiled Marilisa. “Let’s go grab breakfast. The guys are breaking now to eat and then they’ll meet with you.”
“I’m sorry, can I ask a question?” she said filled with curiosity.
“You can ask anything you like,” smiled Ramey.
“Where am I? Brooks said this was his home, his family’s home. But where is that?” she asked.
“You’re in Louisiana. That’s all I can tell you right now. As I’m sure the boys told you, we own a security agency and almost everyone here was former Special Forces. Our safety, our identity and our security are what we value most after family. We ask that you tell no one where you are and that you don’t leave the property without one of the men with you.”
“I would never tell anyone where you are, or who you are. Mostly because I’m not sure right now, but I would never do that anyway.” Ramey smiled at the young woman as they led her out of the cottage.
“Oh, wow,” she whispered. “This is so beautiful. There must be a hundred cottages.”
“More like two or three hundred now. The property stretches further than you can see and the massive trees help to shield us,” smiled Marilisa. “I’ll tell you everything about the property later, but for now, let’s take the path to the cafeteria. It’s easy from this cottage.”
Lennon nodded, walking with the two women as they chatted about silly things. Flowers, brownies, and Brooks. Lennon asked how long he’d been in the Navy. Had he dated anyone? Was he home for good? Ramey stopped, smiling at the young woman.
“Forgive me, Lennon but I’ve noticed you only asked questions about Brooks, not Mitchell. Can I assume you have a soft spot for my son?”
“Crap,” she muttered. “I-I’m not sure, Mrs. Jordan.”
“Ramey. It’s just Ramey. I think you’re sure but you’re scared. Jordan men have a way of doing that to women. I know he’s my son, Lennon but he would never, ever hurt a woman.”
