They work off a code,” I explained.
Her eyes rounded. “Really?”
I smiled softly at her surprise. “Yeah. Really.”
“What if I forget the code?”
I grabbed her bags again. “We can reprogram them to something you’ll remember if you want. Now let me show you to your room.” She followed me without another word.
When we got to her room, I set her bags down on the bed and gave her the rundown. “As you can see, the room’s set up like any other bedroom across America. You can use it however you see fit.”
There wasn’t anything really exciting about the room. The walls were painted a soft grey with dark grey curtains on the window that viewed into the backyard. The bed was a queen with matching dark grey bedding. There was a small closet, but between that and the dresser on the right side of the room, there was plenty of clothing space. The entire bedroom set matched with two nightstands and a hope chest at the foot of the bed. It was simple, but efficient.
The entire house was pretty much set up the same way. Every room looked like it belonged in a showroom, not because I was fancy, but because all the furniture in each room matched itself. The only exception was my bedroom. My bedroom was my sanctuary and my safe place and where my personality breathed. It was a hodgepodge of personal stuff from my childhood until now. When I had bought the house, I had an interior designer I partnered with a lot on my projects decorate my house, but I had made it clear that my bedroom was off limits.
“What do you think?”
She blew me away with her manners. I was still feeling guilty about our first meeting and hadn’t expected much. Her blue eyes looked into mine. “You have a very nice home, Xander,” she said graciously.
Not sure why I suddenly felt heat crawl up my neck, but I did. “Well, I’ll let you get settled and then give you a tour.”
I went to turn, but she stopped me. “Xander?”
“Yeah?”
“Uhm, do you…do you have a safe or…something?” she asked nervously.
I cocked my head at her nervousness. I’ve seen Fallon in a different array of emotions, but not nervous, which was surprising seeing as how she’s got a crazy person tracking her. “I have a couple of safes, along with a lock closet in the attic.”
“What’s a lock closet?”
“It’s just a small room that houses stuff I can’t fit into a safe.”
“What on earth would you store in there?”
“I have a lot of expensive equipment that I lock up when not in use. Everything I own for my business is debt-free.”
She didn’t remark on that as I watched different expressions play out on her face in thought. Finally, she asked, “Would it be okay if I stored my bag in one of your safes or your room?”
My brows drew down. “Which bag?”
Fallon grabbed the small strapped bag from the bed. “This one.”
“What’s in it?” I remembered Karla said Fallon wasn’t a fan of guns, but I needed to know if this woman had brought a gun into my home. I had a couple of them locked up in my safe, but they were registered, and I knew how to use them.
Her lips rolled in and she shrugged a shoulder. “My money,” she replied.
What?
“I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s my money,” she repeated. “Everything I have.”
I snatched the bag from her hand and, opening it up, I could see it was filled with cold hard fucking cash. My eyes flew to hers. “You’ve been carrying this around with you?” She nodded. “Are you fucking crazy?”
She let out a deep sigh and dropped on the bed. “Nope,” she murmured. “Just exhausted.”
Well, fuck.
Chapter 15
Fallon~
It’s been almost two months of normal, but I’m still realistic enough to know that it’s probably too good to be true.
After Xander had lectured me about the thousands I had been carrying around like cheap luggage, he had given me a tour of his home and had gone over the rules. Albeit, there hadn’t been many that didn’t fall under basic common courtesy, but he had been adamant about the fact that he was the man of the household and that meant there’d be doors opened for me, bags carried in for me, and the like. I had been right when I had pegged Xander Raynes for being a man’s man, and he wasn’t apologetic about it at all.
I’m not going to lie, though. Having gone it alone