6. Brynne

Chapter 6

Brynne

I thought the house looked grand from the outside, but the interior put it to shame. Rich brown leather covered every stool, chair, and sofa, with a massive rug taking up the entirety of the vaulted-ceiling living room. A larger-than-I-thought-possible TV was mounted on the wall, right below a moose head. Again, I didn't think the size of it was realistic.

"His dad's prized possession." Henley came down the stairs, still wearing that tan, felt cowboy hat, the brim higher on his forehead now. His close-cropped hair was nearly nonexistent under his hat, along with his striking green eyes. "Or, was," he corrected.

"He passed away?" I asked, noticing my bags were nowhere in sight.

Henley dipped his chin in a nod.

"I got to get back out there," he said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the front door.

"Which room is mine?"

He grabbed the handle, opening the heavy door. "Upstairs, last room on the left."

As soon as he shut it, the house was gratingly silent, my ears ringing.

Rather than head upstairs, I figured I'd look around to get accustomed to the place I'd be staying in for the foreseeable future. The house was void of all color aside from various shades of brown. No wonder the man was a grouch. He didn't know how to decorate.

The key to a happy mind was to surround yourself with things you loved, and the mood this house put me in told me enough.

I trailed my finger along a thin, long oak table, not a speck of dust to be found. So he was a neat freak, too.

At the end of the wide hallway was the kitchen. The dark oak cabinets and black granite countertops didn't surprise me one bit. Even the fridge was disguised with massive oak doors, blending in seamlessly.

On the opposite side of the kitchen sat what looked to be an office, and an idea sparked with the sight of paperwork sitting neatly atop the desk.

If he wouldn't tell me his name, I'd just have to figure it out myself.

Glancing out the large floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw the three of them still out by the barn, hosing the horses off. Surely, that'd keep them busy long enough for me to snoop.

The office had no doors, so I slipped in. At least if they did find me, I didn't have to explain why I'd gone in a closed room. It was wide open, practically inviting me in itself.

Tall mahogany bookshelves lined one side of the room, and with a glance at the wide windows that spanned the other side, I crouched to try to keep myself hidden from view in case they looked this way. Making it to the desk, I scanned the script on the papers, but it was just a bunch of instruction manuals for various tools and appliances. I thumbed through the stack, finding nothing of use.

Opting to dig deeper rather than leave it be, I opened one of the drawers, shuffling through the files crammed inside. Each paper held tiny script, and my eyes strained to make out any names that might pop out to me as the words jumbled together.

Why didn't he want me to know his name?

Tiptoeing to the other side of the desk, I opened another drawer, finding dozens of files just like the other. My legs were falling asleep as I crouched, so I lowered my knees to the cowhide rug, flipping through folder after folder.

As I was just about to give up on the drawer, something pressed on my back, and against my better judgment, I let out a small shriek.

"What are you looking for?"

Just who I wanted to catch me. Why couldn't it be Austin or Henley?

I pushed the drawer shut, the soft-close slowing its dramatic effect. I silently cursed the fancy mechanics and stood, whirling on him.

"Oh, don't get off your knees for me, Darlin'. I quite liked you down there."

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my breasts and popping a hip. "I'm looking for your name."

He took off his black cowboy hat, setting it upside down on the desk beside me. "Won't find it in here. Or anywhere in this house, in fact."

I tried to keep my eyes from taking in his entire face and the allure he held based on looks alone. The mask and the hat last night had been…shockingly enticing, but this man, with his close cropped hair and dark, full beard drew me in, and that in itself was dangerous. "Why's that?"

He invaded my space, dark eyes pinned to mine. "Because I cover my tracks, Brynne, and I think you should start doing the same once we're done with you."

Done with me? As if they were using me like a tissue, only to be thrown away when the job was done. The fact that he hid himself so well, even within his own home, piqued my interest. What did he have to hide?

"What do you want with my ex?"

He grabbed his hat, walking over to the rack by the entry of the office to set it on a hook. "Get some sleep. We can chat through all your little questions in the morning."

I glanced out the windows, the sun just barely setting. "It's not even dark."

He ignored me, making it clear he didn't give a shit. What he really wanted to say was get the fuck out of my office , and I had to be thankful he didn't phrase it that way . He crossed back to the desk, stepping around the edge to pull out the chair. He took a seat, taking his laptop out of the small drawer under the wood top.

"I want to talk about it now . I'm staying in your fucking house."

His lips thinned as he looked at me. "I don't give a shit what you want to do. This is my house, and I want to be alone, so get the fuck out of my office."

Ah, there it was.

He opened his laptop as I asked, simply to get under his skin, "How can you ever be alone with two other guys under the same roof?"

He typed on the keyboard, not bothering to look my way anymore. "Their company is much more enjoyable than yours. They know a little something about personal space."

My mouth popped open as anger pulsed through me. Was he fucking kidding? If anyone needed to be educated on space, it was him .

As his fingers moved, the screen lighting up his face, I wanted to keep digging. Or bait him to slip up. Either worked. But by his posture alone, I knew I wasn't going to get anything out of him. Though I hated the satisfaction he must have felt in getting his way, I turned and left the office, walking back through the kitchen to head up the stairs, finding my room easily. Rather than going to sleep, though, I threw on a pair of leggings and a sports bra and headed outside for a run.

Nothing made me feel better than a long stretch of cardio and the pounding of my heart. It was simply a plus that the view was spectacular on this ranch. To my displeasure, I had the nightmare of a man inside to thank for that. Otherwise, I never would have been fortunate enough to have this view on one of my runs.

I guessed things weren't as bad as they initially seemed. Or at least, I hoped.

My stay on this ranch was still young.