Chapter One #2
They talked about a few more things—Stevie’s landscape business and how it was doing so well, she was opening an additional location on the west side of the city.
Rowan’s sales job—which her bosses had held for her and had been great about letting her ease back into from home, but Rowan was starting to wonder if she’d ever be able to go back to it full-time.
How could she adequately sell something she couldn’t remember to people she couldn’t remember?
The conversation slowed, then died down as Rowan felt her eyelids grow heavy.
“Put your head back,” Stevie said, handing over her extra sweatshirt for Rowan to use as a pillow. “Get comfortable. We’ve got a ways to go.”
Rowan wanted to resist, but naps came out of nowhere now, and she’d recently realized it was better all the way around if she gave in and slept rather than fighting to stay awake.
She balled up the sweatshirt, put it against the window, and leaned into it, breathing in the faint scent of Stevie’s cologne that still clung to the soft fabric. Her eyes drifted closed.
A hand on her arm shook her gently.
“Hey,” Stevie said, her voice soft. “We’re here.”
Rowan blinked and pushed herself up. “Already?”
“Babe, you’ve been zonked for two solid hours.”
“Oh my God,” Rowan said with a grimace. “I’m so sorry.”
Stevie snorted. “Why? You obviously needed rest.”
Clearly, that was true, but she still felt bad for making Stevie drive with basically nobody to talk to.
She sighed and flipped the visor down, checked herself in the mirror, ran her fingers through her auburn hair that was now slightly flatter on one side.
She rubbed at a wrinkle print that ran down her cheek and shook her head with a soft growl.
“This is nice,” Stevie said as she opened her door and stepped out of the truck. “Looks like we’re the first ones.”
Rowan slid out of the truck and inhaled deeply as her feet hit the ground. Fresh lake air filled her up, tinged with the subtle notes of seaweed and mud and fish.
Stevie pulled out her phone, scrolled, and found what she was looking for. “Okay, there’s a lockbox on the door with a code.” She looked at Rowan. “You ready to start an amazing nine days?”
Rowan grinned at her and nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“Oh, wow,” Rowan breathed as they pushed through the door into the huge open-concept lake house.
“Holy shit,” Stevie said in obvious agreement. “I saw the online listing, but the photos don’t do it justice. At all. I’d say Becca outdid herself this year.”
They wandered slowly, Rowan dragging her fingertips behind her over the leather sectional in the enormous family room. Floor to ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the lake, as they were a story above it.
“So, from what I remember, there are two bedrooms upstairs and three downstairs. They all have their own bathroom and there should be a powder room”—Stevie spun in a circle until she found the door that had been left halfway open—“here.”
Rowan stood in front of the windows, gazing out at the lake. There was a sliding glass door almost hidden in there that evidently led out to the huge wraparound deck. “This is gorgeous.”
Stevie came up and stood next to her, and they simply took in the view for a quiet moment.
Rowan turned to her left. “Holy crap, look at this kitchen.” It was huge. Gourmet. A white countertop marbled with gray, white cabinets, white subway tile backsplash.
“Oh, Justine will be in her glory here.” Justine was a chef, and even though she was always told her friends didn’t expect her to cook for them, more often than not, she insisted on cooking for them.
Rowan nodded, circling the island in the center of the room, the double sink crowned with a tall and gleaming faucet, the countertop pristine and shining.
“So, we thought we’d put you in one of the upstairs bedrooms,” Stevie said.
“That way, if you needed some space and quiet, you wouldn’t have four other—likely intoxicated—people traipsing around making noise.
The other room up there would be Claire’s, if she even comes.
” She wiped a hand across the air between them.
“But if you’d rather have a different room, that’s totally fine. We’re here first, so we get dibs.”
Rowan shook her head. “No, that sounds totally fine. I’m gonna go look.”
“Me, too,” Stevie said, looking for the door to the downstairs while Rowan found the steps.
The floor throughout the whole place was a weathered gray hardwood. Probably easier to clean when renters left than carpet would be, she thought as she climbed the stairs. At the top was an open space with a railing, one bedroom to the left and one to the right. She went right.
The room was huge. A queen-size bed took up one side, a large oak dresser across from it, chunky and solid.
Like the family room, floor to ceiling windows took up an entire wall, the lake spread out in glorious sparkling blue before her, and the view nearly took her breath away.
There was a third-story deck outside, and again, Rowan belatedly noticed that one of the windows was actually a French door.
She pulled it open and stepped out onto the deck.
Below her was the deck from the family room, and below that was a patio she assumed the lower bedrooms looked out over.
Once more, she inhaled deeply, taking in that fresh lake air, letting it fill her lungs to capacity.
It was another thing she’d learned in all her physical therapy after the accident: how to simply stop and breathe.
It still shocked her how quickly she could calm down, fight off stress, just by taking the time to fill her lungs, hold it, and let it out slowly.
Back inside, she peeked into a bathroom that could hold three of hers from her house, an enormous clawfoot tub the centerpiece. Baths were another way she’d found helped reduce her stress and ease her headaches, and she was already picturing herself soaking in this one.
“Wow,” came Stevie’s voice, and when Rowan exited the bathroom, Stevie was setting her suitcase down at the foot of the bed.
“Right?”
“I thought the bedrooms downstairs were classy, but this one takes the cake.”
Rowan frowned. “Should I let Becca have this one? She did all the work finding the place. She should have first pick.”
Stevie shook her head. “Nope. This one’s yours. Trust me, it’s not like the ones downstairs are subpar. This whole house is just…” More head shaking. “Crazy elegant. I can’t imagine how much it costs.”
“It’s beautiful. These views. God.”
“Think you can relax here?” Stevie asked with a grin.
“If I can’t, there’s something seriously wrong with me,” Rowan answered with a soft laugh.
“Hello!” came a voice from downstairs.
Stevie let out an adorable little gasp and her blue eyes went as wide as a child’s who was seeing the Christmas tree lit up for the first time. “They’re here!”
Rowan laughed as Stevie did a cute little hop, then sprinted out the door. She took one last look around the room that was going to be hers for the next week, then followed her out and down the stairs.