It was exactly what she’d pictured. All rough boards and tattered throw rugs, an ancient, wooden-armed, plaid sofa, two, mismatched overstuffed chairs that looked threadbare, but clean, and a scarred-up coffee table with moisture rings from years of perspiring glasses. She could see that this grouping served as everything from a place to sit and relax, to an eating area, to…
Yup. Toward the front of the arrangement, under the windows, sat an old box-TV with a video-gaming apparatus perched on top. The back of the set had been removed and Frankensteined with a plethora of wires that ran to an old Atari console with which she was vaguely familiar.
Tabitha snorted to herself.
Pong, or Space Invaders? Either would be a good bet.
Turning around, the counters surrounding the electric stove and refrigerator on the other side of the room were rudimentaryat best; wood that might once have been butcherblock was now covered with rough sheets of Formica. Cabinets lined the walls above, and a stainless sink on legs sat by itself in a completely different area, backed up to what Tabitha assumed had to be the bathroom. Her brain immediately told her why. Plumbing wouldn’t have had to be run very far to accommodate both.
They both placed their groceries on the counter, and went to peek in the other two doors. Sure enough, the one she’d thought was the bathroom, was indeed a tiny affair. What had once been a white, porcelain sink and toilet, were now stained yellow with age. A tiny claw-foot tub, also tarnished by time, had a hand-held shower attached to its spigot. Wouldn’t that be fun?
Still, although everything was worn, it was clean, and there wasn’t a spider to be seen, anywhere.
She’d count that as a plus.
Indeed, Tabitha wasn’t turned off at all. She was actually charmed until they left that space and poked their head through the last door. Then she was in hysterics.
Spencer, too, immediately doubled over, laughing. “How the hell…?”
This bedroom was smaller than the one she’d had on the ship, but Smitty had somehow managed to shoehorn a mattress into the cubical that took up every inch of space, from wall to wall. There was no room to walk around it, and certainly no place to store clothes except for two shelves that had been nailed up at head-height above it. Tabitha’s bet was that they’d both be hitting their heads on those before too long.
They ducked back into the main room.
“That was fun,” Tabitha snickered. “Now go. I’ve got this.” She was still chuckling as she made her way back to the grocery bags. “I’ll put our stuff away and get lunch started. You make your phone call.”
“If you’re sure,” he demurred.
“I am,” Tabitha waved airily. “Off with you.” She gestured toward the door so he knew she wasn’t angling to eavesdrop.
Before he got three steps away, however, the sound of a car pulling up the long drive hit their ears, eventually stopping right outside.
“Who could that?—?”
Tabitha hadn’t even completed her sentence before Spencer strode toward one of the windows and groaned.
“Brace yourself,” he warned. “It’s my brothers.”
CHAPTER 22
Spencer closedhis eyes and cursed. This was going to be a nightmare. He just hoped his brothers would hold it together enough so that Tabitha wouldn’t think he’d been born in an insane asylum.
“You want to meet them inside or outside?” Tabitha moved up behind him at the window and peered around his shoulder. “Frick. Another two who look exactly like you?”
“Uh, huh. Give or take. Fun with genetics,” Spencer managed.
That was theonlything that was going to be fun. The rest of this confrontation was bound to suck. Mason generally had a handle on his emotions, but Kyle? Can anyone say, “wildcard”?
“I should probably go out and stop them on the porch,” Spencer sighed. “We don’t want this to come inside where Smitty’s hide-away might get wrecked.”
“Not so hidden, it seems,” Tabitha snorted. “What did it take? An hour before our location was compromised?” She got a determined look on her face, and before Spencer could stop her, she strode eight steps toward the door and yanked it open.
“Can I help you?” She posed sassily, crossing her arms over her chest, her legs spread to affect a combative stance.
Which gave Spencer pause.
Hell. Could Tabitha possibly know how to fight? He knew she had serious underwater chops, but he’d never talked to her about any hand-to-hand skills.
Not that Spencer was worried this impromptu meet-and-greet would devolve into a fight where Tabitha was involved. His brothers might want to poundhiminto the dirt, but they’d never raise a hand toward a female—or a stranger for that matter—unless that individual was perpetrating some kind of heinous crime.
