Inheritance (The Lost Bride Trilogy, #1)(30)

“A lot of good that’ll do if I’m going to need Ghostbusters.” Then she shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”

“Have another cookie.”

“Do I look like I need one?”

He surprised her by reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Have another cookie.”

Then he took a cigar box—an actual cigar box—out of his briefcase.

“Cookies and stogies?”

“If only. Keys.”

When he opened the box, she sat back. “Oh my God, there are so many.”

“They’re labeled, color coded. See—exterior doors. Front, south side, north side, back, apartment. The little shed. I didn’t take you out there. You’ve got the lawn tractor, the snowblower, shovels, chain saw, various tools.

“There’s a generator out there. Power goes out, it comes on. You won’t be in the dark.”

“Hallelujah.”

“Door opener for the detached garage. And the key fob for the truck.”

“What truck? There’s a truck?”

He took another cookie himself, studied her as he bit in. “Did you read the inventory list?”

“I got lost in it.”

“You’ve got his Ford F-150.”

“What is that?”

“It’s the same model I’ve got.”

“That big, burly thing?” Horrified didn’t quite cover it. “I’ve never driven a truck in my life.”

“Your Hyundai’s got all-wheel drive, but you’re not in the city now. Even with John Dee, you might find a big, burly thing useful.”

She pushed up, walked to a window.

Everything outside held quiet, all sound muffled by the gently falling snow. It was a picture, a painting, a postcard.

And her nerves had boomeranged back.

“You said there was wine.”

“There is.”

“I think I could use some. Do you want some?”

He rose. “What kind of man would I be if I let you drink alone? What kind do you want?”

“It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t matter.”

“Leave it to me.”

“It feels like I’m leaving a lot to you,” she said as he walked into the butler’s pantry. “And you’re being pretty damn patient. Is that a lawyer thing or just part of the package?”

“Could be both.”

“It’s snowing, and you probably want to go home. Maybe to your beautiful wife and two adorable children.”

“I need a time machine for that. The wife—and that would be gorgeous—and two adorable—and you forgot brilliant—children are in the future.”

“Maybe they’re hanging out with my handsome, sexy husband and three adorable, brilliant children and our lovable yet frisky dog.”

“Three, huh? What kind of dog?”

“To be determined. Then there’s the cuddly kitten. And we all live in this wonderful old rambling Victorian—which was never going to be as big as this—my handsome, sexy husband and I will be renovating for the rest of our lives. But we love it.”

“Sounds pretty good. But I’ve already got the dog.”

“You have a dog?”

“Mookie. Lab/retriever mix.”

“Mookie?”

“For Mookie Betts,” he said as he came back with two glasses and a bottle of wine. “Multiple Gold Glove winner. Played for the Red Sox. They traded him to the Dodgers in 2020, but you can’t hold that against him.”

“I won’t, and I’m from Boston, so I know Mookie Betts. Thanks,” she added when he handed her a glass of straw-colored wine. She downed half in one go.

“Wow. Kudos.”

“Okay.” She let out a breath. “Why didn’t you bring the dog?”

“I didn’t know how you felt about dogs. I’ll bring him next time.”

“Good. I like dogs. I was thinking about getting a dog before … all this, because I wasn’t spending all day in the office. He’s probably a nice dog, Mookie, since you seem to be. I’ll like him. I like you. I like your patience and how you don’t actually look like a lawyer. Less intimidating. And I think I have a thing for blue eyes. I almost married a guy—asshole—with blue eyes. They weren’t as good as yours.”

“That’s a story I’d like to hear.”

“Maybe next time. Keys.” She sat again. “Jesus, so many keys.”

He went over them with her, then closed the box, nudged it aside.

“I don’t see any reason you’d lock up most of the interior doors, but you’ve got keys for the ones that lock. Collin kept a couple of files in his office of instruction books, warranties for the appliances. For everything. But if you need help with any of that, just ask.”

“Okay.”

“Fireplace in the master and other bedrooms are gas, but most of the fireplaces are wood-burning. Have you ever handled wood-burning?”

“Yeah, I’m good there. My mother has one. I grew up there.”

“Good. There’s the rack just outside, and it’s full of wood. You’ve got half a cord stacked back by the little shed.”