Page 5 of Adrian

When I return to the main house, I descend into the secure basement, where some of our offices are located. I can hear Asher complaining under his breath as I round the corner and step through the door. “What’s the matter?”

Emma is with him. She’s not just with him. She’s standing behind him with her hands on his shoulders, massaging what I’m sure are very tight muscles. She’s a fucking saint for putting up with him. We’re all glad he found a woman who tolerates him, and he obviously worships the land she walks on. He loves her to pieces.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbles when he glances over his shoulder. He doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he points toward one of the monitors where he’s got the weather report scrolling. “It’s going to be a doozy of a storm. Looks like it’s coming in a bit earlier than expected.”

I frown. “What time?”

“Dinner, I expect. Or the stupid weatherman says. I’m convinced he’s guessing.”

I chuckle. “He’s a meteorologist. I bet he has a pretty good idea about when the storm is coming in.”

Asher stands and takes Emma by the hand.

Emma smiles sweetly at me. “Hey, Adrian. Did you check on the new owners of the Sharp property?”

“Yep. And that’s owner. Singular. Just one woman, Blair.”

Emma winces. “What’s she planning to do? Build a new house in the spring or something?”

I smirk. “Actually, I’m pretty sure she was planning to move into the standing piece-of-shit shack today. Hopefully, I talked some sense into her. I’m glad I went to check.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Asher barks. “Is she stupid?”

Emma swats at his arm. “Don’t be so mean.”

I sigh. “Yes, but I think the more appropriate word is ignorant. She’s not what I expected. She absolutely comes from money, and I suspect she has a college degree.”

“In what? Gardening?” he retorts.

“I don’t know, Asher. I used my visit to convince her not to set foot in that house again, let alone sleep there. I didn’t have time to interview her about her past.”

He rolls his eyes. “Right. Well, we’re going home.” He tugs his wife’s hand and drags her from the office.

She glances over her shoulder and sweetly calls out, “Let Rebekah and Hannah know that I’ll be back soon to help them cook.”

“Will do.” I’m sure I’ll see them. Rebekah and Hannah regularly spend time down here during the day. They’re married to Adam and Aaric, who work together handling the developmental side of our business. Their office is next to mine.

Aaron and Andrew have offices upstairs in the main house. Andrew’s wife, Jaclyn, is a lawyer. She works for our company, JNG Enterprises. Aaron’s wife, Cheri, is an author. She’s probably at home working on her latest novel.

As I sit at my desk, unease creeps up my spine. God, I hope that stubborn woman took my advice and went into the city. I kind of wish I’d been nosy enough to put a camera up facing the Sharp property so I could check on her, but that would have been illegal and invasive, so it didn’t happen.

I don’t know why I even care. She’s a grown adult. She can take care of herself. I warned her about the hazards. That’s all I could have done. Inviting her to come stay here was borderline creepy. She doesn’t know me or anyone else who lives here.

The words slipped out as if I had no filter. Before I knew it, she was staring at me like I’d grown an extra head.

There’s just something about her. I can’t put my finger on it. She’s not my type, so I don’t know why I’m giving her so much space in my head. For one thing, she’s feisty and argumentative. I usually prefer women who are a bit more agreeable. Though, how’s that working out for me? Ha. I haven’t been on a date in years.

I’m a thirty-year-old man who’s been focused on reclaiming my family’s land for so long that I haven’t taken a second to breathe, let alone date. And who the hell would I date if I wanted to? It’s not like there are dozens of eligible women living in town.

My interactions when I head down the mountain usually include Marge at the grocery store. She’s in her seventies. Then there’s Rolanda. She’s the receptionist at the mechanic shop. I think she’s eighteen. Far too young. Jessie Lynne is the town’s beautician. She cuts my hair. She’s in her fifties.

The pickings are slim.

Doesn’t matter because I’m devoted to dealing with the homestead right now. I have plenty of time to worry about finding a woman and settling down.

I run a hand over my face and stare at the monitors. I don’t need to watch them like a hawk. There are sensors that alert me when there’s movement. Sometimes that movement is wildlife, but occasionally it’s a visitor.

My brothers and I are paranoid. For good reason. We like to know who’s coming. We never want to be blindsided again in this lifetime.