Triplets for The Millionaire - K.C. Crowne Page 0,4
until the text was written and sent.
“Brother, you don’t need to go to all that trouble.”
“It’s no trouble,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
I opened my mouth to speak, but before a word came out, I paused. “Lola Bridges,” I mused. “Why does that name sound so damn familiar?”
He smirked. “Because it’s the name of the doctor I told you about when you were in town a couple years ago, remember? You were supposed to go back then, and now look at you.”
I snapped my fingers. “That’s when Da had his stroke,” I reminded him. “Wasn’t about to sit around and wait for an eye appointment when that was goin’ on.”
“I get it – I do. But you shoulda gotten it taken care of some time after.” He shook his head. “Brother, your business is your eyes. You can’t take chances when it comes to your health, specifically your eyesight.”
I chuckled. “I love when you get in doctor mode and big brother mode at the same time.”
He laughed with me. “I know, I know. Sue me for not wantin’ my little brother to go blind.”
“It’s not that serious.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” he said with a shrug. “Only way you’re goin’ to find out is to get your butt in there and get ‘em checked.” He took his phone out of his pocket again, reading a text. “Tomorrow at nine AM. Clear your calendar, because you’ve got a date with Dr. Bridges.”
“Alright, alright. And thanks, brother.”
He reached over and patted me on the back. “You got Da’s stubbornness but believe me when I say health’s somethin’ you can’t take for granted. If you don’t have that, you don’t have anything.”
I threw back the rest of my wine, fatigue running through me as the day caught up. I stood and stretched. “I think I oughta wind down,” I said. “Especially if I’ve got an appointment that early.”
Finn rose with me and laughed. “You thinkin’ nine AM is early is yet another reminder of your bachelor status.”
I bid good night to the family. Kenna called out to me as I left to give the idea of putting up some pictures a bit of thought. I waved an answer and left through the back doors with my camera and coat, making my way through the cold and snow to the guest house.
Warmth hit me as soon as I stepped inside. I flicked the lights on to reveal a one-room abode, a queen-sized bed in one corner, a desk in the other, a couch and TV in the middle, and a small kitchenette on the far end. The walls were bare, crying out for some décor. In spite of Kenna’s offer, I wasn’t going to be the one to provide it.
Finn and Kenna had built the little house a few months before I’d told them I was coming in for a bit during the winter, and part of me wondered if they’d designed it strictly with me in mind – a way to entice me to live there for the long-term, to put down some roots, but I wasn’t about that life. The place was perfect as a temporary pad, a spot where I could recharge after a day of picture-taking and having fun with the kids. The bed was big enough, and the desk was perfect as a work area where I could spend hours editing my pictures to perfection.
And that’s exactly what I had in mind. I opened the cabinet above the fridge, taking out a bottle of whiskey and pouring myself a glass. That in hand, I slid into the desk chair and opened my MacBook, taking the memory card out of my camera and slipping it into the port.
I put some Dropkick Murphy’s on Spotify, letting the music blast as I began to sift through the photos, sipping my whiskey as I put some major thought into which of the pictures I took that day was worth keeping.
As I sipped and worked, what Finn had said about roots kept popping into my mind. I’d never needed such things. I hadn’t once had an apartment of my own since I’d been old enough to leave my old man’s place. And I’d never needed one. Photography was my life, and I went wherever it took me.
What use did I have for a home? And what he’d said about starting a family…I meant what I’d told him. I just didn’t have it in me, whatever it was that one