Fearless The King Series Book One - By Tawdra Kandle Page 0,46
raised them talking the talk and walking the walk. Michael has an affinity and talent for the growing end, like his mom and me. Lela takes more of an artistic bent—did you get to see the shop?”
“I did. It’s lovely.”
“And she does flower arranging, too. We’re very proud of both of our offspring,” Luke told me, hugging his son around the shoulders.
“Okay, enough of the sweet talk,” Michael laughed. “Are the coals ready? Can we bring out the meat?”
“I have strict instructions from your mom not to put Tasmyn to work. She told me that you’re to show her the house, get her something to drink and sit out on the deck until dinner is ready.”
“Oh, no,” I protested. “Really, I don’t mind helping at all.”
“Hey, when Marly gives me an order, I don’t second-guess it. Go show her around,” he told Michael. “I’ll see you out here when you’re done.”
The Sawyers’ home reminded me of the family themselves: Straightforward and welcoming. We went in through the back deck, entering a warm and open living room. The furniture was soft, in muted brown tones, with splashes of bright color coming from knit blankets and afghans tossed casually over the back of chairs and couches. The rounded coffee table in the center of the room was covered in magazines and books.
A hallway led off the living room, and Michael led me toward it. “This is my parents’ office,” he said, throwing open a door. “You can see their organizational styles are a little different.” One side of the room was neat, with hanging folders, a bulletin board and shelves. On the other side, the desk was covered with papers, magazines and pictures, spilling over onto the chair.
“Believe it or not, my dad is the organized one,” Michael chuckled. We moved down the hall, and Michael pointed out the bathroom, his parents’ room and his sister’s room.
“What about you?” I teased. “Do they make you sleep in the garage?”
He grinned. “Nah, actually I have the best room in the house. Come on.”
Pulling me by the hand, he led me back out through the living room to a set of stairs that I hadn’t noticed before. They opened to a huge loft, with a high, beamed ceiling and wide windows. A simple bed stood in the corner, and along the wall were a dresser and wardrobe. The floor was hardwood, with a few throw rugs scattered here and there. There was a desk in the corner opposite the bed, and a worn-looking sofa and chair were nestled on the far side of the room.
“It’s amazing… how did you score such a great room?” I marveled. “I’m surprised your sister didn’t want it—or did she?”
Michael laughed. “No, she didn’t want it. First, there’s really no privacy to speak of up here, and I guess girls like to be able to close a door. It doesn’t matter to me because no one comes up here anyway, and my parents have always respected my need to be alone sometimes. And second, there’s no closet in here—and Lela likes a good closet. So this has always been my space.”
“Have you lived here all your life?” I asked, looking out the windows at the view below.
“No, when my parents first came here, they had a little house not too far away. That’s where they lived when Lela and I were born. But when they acquired the additional property, they decided it made more sense to live on-site, and they used some of the extra space to build what they always wanted—a log cabin. We moved in when I was in second grade.”
“A second-grade boy would love all this space,” I mused.
“You know it. At one point I had a hockey net and basketball hoop set up in here. My mom hated it, because of the noise it made downstairs, but she let me do it anyway.” He smiled, remembering. “My parents have always been pretty tolerant and supportive.”
“I guess so!” I laughed. Michael was looking at me steadily. “What?” I asked, mystified. “Why are you staring?”
“I was just thinking that this is one of those situations I have to beware of,” he admitted. “The most beautiful girl in the world, the only one I love, alone with me in my bedroom… well, it’s dangerous.”
I felt my face heat. “Then maybe we should move along downstairs. Didn’t I hear your dad say something about a cool drink on the porch? That sounds like heaven.”