Not a sprawling, modern-looking mansion nestled in the woods with a four-car garage. It perfectly illustrated how little I knew about the man who was following the landscaped path up to the ornate glass door like this wasn’t a big deal.
He stood under the roof covering the front porch before he turned to look at me, his expression cryptic. “Laurel, it’s okay.”
At least it was dry on the porch. Once I joined him, my teeth chattered loudly, and he slid open the screen on the security panel. But he looked... confused.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Looks like the power’s out.”
He walked out into the rain and picked a rock from a flowerbed before returning to the porch. The underside of the rock was flat and had a lock on it, and he spun the dials to produce a house key.
“He shuts off the power in the winter?” I asked.
“Not usually.”
He had the door open a moment later, but when I moved to step inside, he put an arm out to stop me. Because he needed to go in first.
I nodded in understanding, and he disappeared into the dark house, leaving me shivering on the front porch. It wasn’t long, and yet a lifetime passed before he reappeared and gestured me into the entryway.
“Stay here,” he said. “I need to sweep the rest of the house.”
While I waited on him, I toed off my soggy shoes beside the doorway, then pulled off my drenched socks too, making my feet stick to the cold marble floor. I peeled off my jacket and hung it in the empty closet, where it dripped onto the stone.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief when he returned. “We’re good,” he said.
Even with all the windows, it was dark inside, and it grew dimmer as we moved deeper into the house. It was spacious withan open layout, and through the low light I could make out an elegant dining area to the right.
“Wow,” I said softly.
The place looked like it had been ripped from the pages of a luxury magazine. Nearby, leather couches sat opposite an enormous television beneath the vaulted ceiling.
People with an excess of money made me uneasy. My family had struggled mightily to get by and afford my dance lessons.
“What does Shawn do?”
“He runs a company. The kitchen’s through there.” He lit up the flashlight on his phone and used it to help guide me through the doorway.
It was even darker in here.
The light from his phone glinted off the stainless-steel doors on the fancy, commercial refrigerator that was twice the size of the one in my apartment. It lit up the long island and elegant cabinets. This kitchen had to be a chef’s dream.
Jason tugged one of the doors open and glanced at the ice compartment. “There’s some ice left. Power must be out because of the storm.”
We dug around in drawers until I found another flashlight, but I quickly began to recognize it wasn’t much warmer inside than it was out. My hands ached and my brain began to slow as my blood turned to slush.
My teeth chattered so loudly, Jason couldn’t miss it.
“There’s a fireplace in the primary bedroom,” he said.
Primary bedroom implied there was more than one. Well, that was good, right?
I followed him down the carpeted hall and into a room that was so large it made the high, king-sized bed centered on the back wall look small. Instead of stopping there, I went into the bathroom and pulled the glass door open to start the shower.
Maybe I could get under the hot water and?—
“Pretty sure the water heater’s electric,” he announced from the bedroom.
I shut the water off and jerked a towel from the rack, using it to scrub my hair dry. The cold was setting in, deep into my bones, and I was starting to believe I might never be warm again. I shuffled on my bare feet back into the bedroom.
