Heart's Price (MxM)

Chapter 5

Taking my wallet from his outstretched hand, I look up at him in surprise. "How do you know I'm moving?"

His brows quirk a little higher. "As much as I like to think I'm a good person, hand-delivering the Lost and Found is not part of my routine. After we found the wallet, we tried calling the number you put on the form, but it's been disconnected. An old habit, maybe?"

"Oh... yes." I must've used my work number, which no longer exists.

"Also, it had a mid-west area code. Then, seeing the address you gave wasn't much out of my way, I figured I could drop it off in-person, only to discover you don't actually live there. That giant who does pointed me over here."

"That 'giant,' is my brother," I say, picking up on something derisive in his tone.

His brows lift again. "Brother? Christ. I guess you lost that roll of the genetic dice, eh?"

"Excuse me?" I'm pretty sure I'm being insulted, but not absolutely sure.

"Well, he's a mountain, and you'd barely qualify for featherweight class, little thing that y' are."

Yep. Definitely insulted.

"Actually, five-foot-six is around the average height for a man, globally speaking," I say sharply, and then internally cringe. Nothing says 'defensive' like having dry factoids readily at hand.

Thorne's smirk spreads to his eyes.

"Is it now? You learn something new every day."

"Thank you for returning my wallet, Dr. Thorne," I say in a flat, even tone. "I appreciate it. Have a wonderful day."

I turn, intending to go inside, shut the door, and wallow in post-social-disaster shame, but he takes a quick step forward and catches my arm.

"Wait up—I've offended you, and that's not my intent. I've a habit of speaking my mind, and my mind's not well-mannered, much of the time. Forgive me."

I look at his strong, pale hand on my arm, feeling the heat of it through my sleeve, and then make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He smiles, and this time the only thing sharp about it are his teeth, which are a little longer and pointier than usual—a bit like my brother Dane's, in fact.

To distract myself from his nearness, I look down at the dog again, which is still on its back, watching us with sad brown eyes from the depths of its cone. It seems to be playing the pity card now that it got scolded, and thumps its tail against the planks of the porch with a slow, restrained beat.

"So, you found the owner?" I ask.

"What? No, I don't think he has one. Hasn't for a while, anyway," Thorne says, frowning.

"Oh. But you called it something before. I thought you'd discovered its name."

"Well, I figure he deserves a name, and 'Dougal' seemed a good fit. He's a bit of a doofus, if you couldn't tell. I've decided to keep him myself, matter of fact, though I brought him today to see if you'd change your mind about taking him, after all. He's a sweet boy—handsome, too, once he cleans up."

He's looking at me when he says the last bit, and even though I know he's talking about the dog, my face grows uncomfortably warm.

"Even if I wanted a dog, I couldn't take him," I say. "As you've noted, I'm at loose ends at the moment."

Thorne gives me a thoughtful look. "You know, I've got a big place all to myself, and I'm in the market for a lodger—or a house-mate, or whatever you call it. Interested?"

If keeping me off-balance was a sport, he'd be a champion. "Uh... I..."

"Here," he says, pulling a card from his back pocket. "Think about it. I'm off tomorrow. Stop by if you want to see the place. No pressure—it's just a thought. You seem a decent sort, and I suppose I could do worse."

"Um... Thank you. That's very kind of you, Doctor Thorne."

"Oh, call me Ambrose," he says, flashing me his bright, sharp smile again. "All my friends do."

Once more, I get the feeling he's teasing me, but I can't be sure.

He releases his grip and pats my arm, and I realize he's been holding it the whole time. The absence of his hand feels oddly cold, and I resist the urge to rub the spot as a shiver creeps across my back.

"Well, I'll be going, then. Welcome to Spring Lakes, Noah Hunter," he says. "If you can't make it tomorrow, I'm off every Monday, and I usually spend it at home. So, until we meet again." He holds out his hand, and I shake it, my feeling of awkwardness fueled by the amusement I detect in his eyes.

Throwing me a final wink and a lopsided grin, he turns and trots nimbly down the steps, striding away towards his vehicle with the dog scrambling to its feet and tripping eagerly along at his heels.

He drives a white van, and when he opens the side door for the dog, I catch a glimpse of what looks like veterinary equipment.

With a wave, he gets in and drives away, leaving me standing there with a wallet I didn't even know I'd been missing in one hand, and an un-looked-for invitation in the other.

I study the address on the card.

411 Lakeside Avenue.

Having only visited briefly before now, I don't know the area well enough to have any idea what sort of place that might be. I'll ask Dane and Julian later, I decide. I'm not eager to put myself in the path of the good doctor again anytime soon, but his offer intrigues me, and I do need to find a place to stay before very long.

Grace and Chloe are generous and welcoming, but if old Ben Franklin is to be believed, I've got three days before they start wanting me gone.

More importantly, if what I'd witnessed that morning in the kitchen was something I could expect to stumble upon with any regularity, I'd be wanting me gone, too.