“I brought Archie back to you,” I shared, finally managing to find my tongue, which felt twice its size. I motioned down to where Archie should have been. Said subject must have long since barreled past us, straight into the house, while I was too busy ogling his owner.
As he lifted his arm to drag his fingers through his sandy, mussed hair, every muscle in his upper body flexed. And then, showing the same curiosity, his eyes raked me up and down before stopping at my feet. He frowned when he saw the plastic bags sticking out of my sneakers, covering my socks and the bottom of my jeans.
I could feel my cheeks heat at his inspection. Yeah. I looked ridiculous. “Well, I guess I’ll be leaving now,” I said, and began to turn.
He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me, and made a come-hither motion with his index finger, then jutted his head behind him.
I sighed and debated it.
He bobbed his head once again, this time a little harder, and motioned me inside.
Reluctantly, I nodded and stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. He held up one finger, telling me to hang on a minute, then walked through his living room, disappearing down the hallway. I used that moment to take in my surroundings.
Woah. Tanner’s home was spectacular compared to the cabin I was staying in. The entry opened up into one great room with tall, vaulted ceilings, that housed the living, kitchen, and dining areas. As I saw from the outside, the windows stretched from floor to ceiling toward the back of the living area, providing a beautiful landscape view of the snow-covered trees. To the far left of the living room there was a rustic, stone fireplace that also stretched all the way from the roof. On either side were built-in bookcases stocked full of reading material. My gaze then drifted over to Archie now curled next to the fire in front of the bookcases on a big, soft dog bed, happy to be home.
Above the thick, oak mantle was a large-screen TV that was on, closed captions crawling across the bottom of the screen. In front of it sat an oversized, grey sectional with a matching ottoman, both sitting atop a large, shag rug. I walked a little further into the room and looked up and over my head. Heavy, dark oak beams lined the ceiling every few feet and a solid, circular, iron chandelier with at least a dozen vintage bulbs hung from the center of the room.
The walls of the dwelling were all pine, and the decor hanging on them was neither masculine nor feminine. Just rustic, cozy, and comfortable. It was the kind of relaxing room that made you want to curl up and read a good, long book.
I continued to peruse the area while I waited. Above the front half of the home, over the entry, was an L-shaped railing around the second floor, where you could look down into the lower level.
My gaze traveled back down. To my right was the kitchen with high-end appliances. A large, dark oak dining table sat to the right of the island. There was a bench on either side and study chairs at the head and end of the table that looked like they came from Ballard Designs or Pottery Barn. The kitchen counters were light granite and four circular, wooden bar stools made of whiskey barrels sat in front of it.
As I ran my hands across the long, beautiful table sitting behind the sofa, I realized one thing. I was right. This was too much for one man. It was more than a house; it was a home. A home that was made for a purpose. For a family.
Yet, Tanner lived here alone.
There was a framed family photo on the sofa table. A little nosy, I picked it up. It was Tanner, albeit younger in the image, but still just as handsome. Best guess in his late teens or early twenties. Sitting next to him was a pretty girl of the same age that looked quite a bit like him, but with lighter blonde hair. An older couple was also in the photo, Tanner’s mom and dad I assumed. The man’s hair was grey, but he had the same sparkling green eyes as Tanner, and I could see where he got his devastating looks from.
A throat cleared behind me and I quickly set the photo down and spun around. Tanner stood there wearing a t-shirt with the word Columbia in collegiate lettering, and I found myself sorely disappointed that he’d covered up that glorious chest.
“Sorry.” I wrung my hands. “I was just admiring the picture. And your home. It’s stunning.” I shifted on my feet awkwardly as I waved my hand around the room. “Family?” I asked, pointing to the image.
Nodding, he then extended his hand and spread his fingers apart. With his pinkie facing toward me, he tapped his thumb on his chin, then pointed to the older woman in the photo.
“Mom?” I asked, repeating the motion.
A bob of his head, then he repeated the same sign, but on his forehead, then pointed to the man.
“Dad?” I said as I tried again to repeat his movement.
Another nod, then he pointed to the younger girl. Making an L shape with his right hand, he then touched it from his chin to his left hand also in an L shape, stacked near his torso.
“Sister?” I went at it a third time, and this time I got a hint of a smile from him. He reached out and fixed my hand placement. I tried it again. “Sister.”
He held up two fingers, then repeated the sign sister.
Two? Dual? Twin! “Twin sister?”
He nodded.
Wow. He was a twin.
He gave me a crooked grin, seemingly excited I could understand some of his language.
Frankly, I was glad that I put a smile back on his face. It seemed like something he rarely offered people, so for me to get one felt damn good. Surly Tanner was sexy, but smiling Tanner was off the charts gorgeous.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and rocked back on my heels. Again, he looked down at my feet, frowning. He pointed to them and lifted his palms as if to ask, what the hell was with the crazy getup.
“I uh…didn’t bring snow boots. I improvised.” I sashayed my shoulders.
He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. Breathing heavy, he then reached down and picked up a pair of boots. He looked at them in his hands for several beats and then offered them to me, hesitantly. Now the frown was back on his face in full force.
The hell?
Raising a brow, I looked at the boots like they were a ticking time bomb. He pushed them toward me again and finally, I reached out and accepted his offering. I checked the tongue for the size. They were women’s for sure, and a half-size too big, but they’d work. But why in the hell did he have women’s boots on-hand?
A tingle formed at the base of my spine, and every hair stood on end. “Where did you get these?” I had to ask. Please, please say they were your sister’s.
He shook his head and waved his hands, as if to say don’t worry about it, then turned toward his kitchen.
I followed him. “Tanner?” I asked, but it was useless since his back was turned to me. I watched as he snatched a tumbler full of amber liquid off the counter and took a swig of what I could only assume was bourbon.
I stood there, holding the boots in hand. “Tanner. Where did you get these?” I asked again as he looked to me, shaking them for emphasis.
He lifted the cup to his lips and finished off his drink, then slammed it down on the counter. Letting out a heavy breath, he lifted his hand and made another sign. A fisted one, where his right thumb grazed his cheek, then followed it down to his left palm.
It wasn’t mother, or sister…so it had to be….
I could feel the color drain from my face as it hit me.
He repeated the motion, his eyes growing misty. “Wife,” he spoke. “They belonged to my wife.”