Tatum was back. In trouble. But back.
He had a second chance. And he was going to give it everything he had.
Chapter Seven
By the time Brody drove under the sign for Hart Ranch hours later, Tatum was beyond exhausted. The sun had risen while they were in the local hospital, and even Brody's charm hadn't sped up the wait time.
Three and a half hours of driving.
Four hours at the hospital.
But now she had a cast, painkillers, and a place to sleep without worrying that anyone was going to come after her. Keeping anonymity for both of them, Brody had checked her in at the hospital as his wife, Josie McMillan, and paid cash, so there was no record that they'd been there.
He hadn't asked any questions.
He'd just taken care of everything for her.
She knew the questions were coming, but for now, he was giving her space. She sighed and rested her head on the seat as they drove down a dirt road. "Is all this yours?"
"Yep, we've got a bunch of land. We keep buying up adjacent lots when they become available. We all have houses on it, but we're spread out."
There were grassy pastures stretching on both sides of the road. Horses were grazing in the morning sunlight, and wooden post-and-rail fences kept them in. Beyond them rose pine trees, lush and green. "It's beautiful."
"Thanks. We've done a lot with it." Pride was evident in his voice, making her smile.
Brody was a homemaker. He'd created a home under the bridge when they'd had nothing, and now, he'd created a masterpiece.
To the left, she could see barns rising high and a couple huge, beautiful houses. But Brody turned right at a fork. In front of them there was only one house, which looked like a big log cabin. A huge deck wrapped around the entire home, and big picture windows looked out on the expansive grounds. It was too big to be called charming, but that's what it felt like. It was so homey. "Is that yours?"
"Yep." He pulled around back and hit a button beside the dome light. There were five rustic garage doors, but only the one further to the left opened. He pulled right into a gleaming garage and punched the button to close it as soon as he parked.
Yep. He said it so casually, as if he hadn't created the most beautiful home she'd ever seen. She had no doubt that he'd had it designed and built to his exact specifications. He was brilliant. A visionary. She'd forgotten just how much.
Brody hopped out of the truck and walked around to open her door. He offered his hand to help her down, and she took it.
The minute his fingers closed over hers, her stomach jumped. She met his gaze and saw the heat in his eyes. It was still there. The magic between them. The magic that had blinded her before.
The magic that was already trying to pull her right into his spell, into his arms, into his kisses.
She couldn’t go there. Not again. Not right now.
As soon as Tatum's feet hit the ground, she pulled her hand free. Needing her space from him.
Brody escorted her to the steps that led into the house. "I need to know how you want to handle this." His face was serious, his brown eyes so dark.
God, she remembered how he used to look at her like that. So serious. Like he was carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. "What do you mean?"
He took his gaze off her to punch in an alarm code. "Can I let my family know that you're here?"
She bit her lip as he opened the door. "I don't know if my life is in danger. I'm not sure what's going on, exactly." She wasn't up to facing the rest of the Harts. Leaving them had been…not her best moment. "I guess maybe give us a day to figure it out."
He nodded. "I'll see if I can keep you off the radar for that long."
She knew what that meant. If one of them asked, he'd tell the truth. But if no one asked, if no one showed up, he wasn't going to send out the alert. It was big that he'd even offered that much, because she knew how much he believed in open communication with his family.
He gestured for her to enter. "After you."
She stepped over the threshold, sucking in her breath at her first glimpse of the interior of his home. It was as cozy and welcoming as it had looked from the outside. Exposed wood beams. A cathedral ceiling. Huge windows on all sides of the open-plan first floor. Expansive couches that looked like she could get lost in them. An enormous stone fireplace that looked so inviting for cozying up in front of all winter long.
She could totally imagine the Harts gathering here, lighting up the place with their laughter and warmth. The house had clearly been built for entertaining a lot of people on the first floor, but it didn't feel huge or too much for just the two of them either.
It was perfect. "It's so amazing to see you living in such a beautiful home," she said. "The last time I saw you guys, you were all living under a bridge, and now…this. It's fantastic."
Brody smiled as he headed toward the kitchen. "A lot can happen in fifteen years."
Her smile faded. "Fifteen years. I can't believe it's been that long since we saw each other. It feels like forever, and at the same time, it feels like yesterday."
He slanted her a look she couldn't decipher. "That it does." He pulled out a pitcher and poured some water into two glasses. "You hungry?"
"No, the food we got at the hospital filled me up." She yawned as she took the glass from him. "Just tired. It's been a long time since I pulled an all-nighter."
"I'll show you to the guest room." He led the way to a gorgeous staircase that curved up to a second floor. "The biggest guest bedroom is on the opposite end of the house from my room, but I'd rather put you next to my room, so I can hear you if you need anything. Is that all right with you?"
He was so formal. Keeping a distance between them. The connection on the stage was gone. The intensity between them when he'd first found her in the hotel had faded. Now that the music was over and the danger not so imminent, he was pulling back faster than she could even track. It was probably for the best, but having him so close and yet so unreachable actually made her heart hurt. "It's fine to put me next to you."
"All right." He turned right at the top of the stairs and led the way down a hallway until he got to a door on the right. "This has its own bathroom, so you have privacy." He led the way inside, and she followed him in.
The room was small, as he'd said, but it was perfect. A big picture window opened to the fields, and she could see horses grazing in a nearby pasture. The bedframe was made of old logs, and a thick carpet filled the center of the room, protecting the most beautiful wood floor she'd ever seen. The boards were wide and thick, as if they had once been part of a barn. "It's gorgeous."
"Thanks. I'm proud of that bed. It's my favorite of all the ones I've made."
She looked at the bed more closely. "You built that?"
"Yep." He set the glass of water on the nightstand. "I don't cut the trees. I just go out in the woods and collect wood that has already fallen."
Of course he wouldn’t take down a tree. Brody was a giver of life, not a taker. She cocked her head. "A billionaire who makes his own beds out of logs."