He’d become considerably more touchy-feely over the past several days. Not even counting that unexpected massage, whose ending she considered decidedly unhappy. After all these years, she’d had his hands on her bare skin andfallen asleep?
Shaking her head, she let him nudge her toward the wooden steps. Only to pause inside the front entrance as she registered the wagon’s décor. Wood. Wood everywhere, along with dead animals’ heads. She’d seen hunting trophies before, but never ones where the poor deer and bears appeared quite so traumatized.
And was that…oh, goddess help them both.
Sebastián leaned over her shoulder to read the inscription below the ax and knife collection mounted to the wall. “‘For when the tiny house hunter becomes the tiny house hunted.’ Huh.”
“The trophies are removable, of course.” Allie didn’t make eye contact with any of the animals. “That should provide ample wall space for additional storage. Although the seller offered to include them in the sale for an additional fee.”
“Whatever you do, don’t look into the stew pot,” he whispered into Lucy’s ear, the tickle of his breath delicious. “It may contain the remains of previous potential buyers. Or maybe the other members of the wagon train.”
“The dry sink is so convenient for washing.” Allie had moved a few steps further into the wagon. “This is a fantastic opportunity to live off the grid.”
Licking her lips, Lucy attempted to interpret real estate agent code. “Does that mean there’s no running water or electricity in this wagon?”
“Not…” Allie’s shoulders slumped. “Not at the moment. But just look at the beautiful wood carvings the owner incorporated into the master trundle bed. How clever to put a bed beneath a bench!”
Sebastián’s eyebrows rose. “Themastertrundle bed? Is there a second one for guests?”
Allie straightened and glared at him. “No. But?—”
“Unless I’m mistaken,” he interrupted, his voice low and tight, “those carvings appear to depict a man slaughtering his enemies in their sleep.”
“That’s…” Her swallow was audible. “That’s correct.”
Given how much Lucy hated arguments, she should really intervene before the antagonism between Allie and Sebastián mounted further. Then again, it turned out she also hated Covered Wagons of Death, so this was a tough call.
Screw it. She was tired, and he was magnificent with his emotions unguarded, his dark eyes snapping, and his cheeks ruddy with anger. Rocking back on her heels, Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and decided to enjoy the unanticipated show. Sebastián had clearly eaten his Wheaties that morning.
His jaw like stone, he glowered at Allie. “So you’re telling me you’re showing Lucy, your vegetarian friend of over thirty years, your faithful friend who trusted you to find a workable house for her, an option that’s above her price range and doesn’t feature electricity or running water or a real bed, but does include various terrorized dead animals and the artistichandiwork of a crazed, possibly murderous Oregon Trail enthusiast?”
“Please stop filming,” Allie said. “Lucy, I need a word with you in private.”
He was having none of it. “No. You’re not dragging her off to make her feel guilty for refusing the terrible options you’ve shown her. She deserves better than that, especially from you. Whatever you need to say, you can say in front of me and the entire crew.”
Allie whirled on him. “I suppose talking for her, instead of letting her speak for herself, makes you a better friend?”
Oh, fuck. The cameras were still rolling despite Allie’s request, the crew intent on capturing the drama. Both Allie and Sebastián were going to be very, very unhappy if this argument became fodder for national conversation.
And honestly, they were both right. This tiny house option was unacceptable, but Lucy should be the one to articulate that, not Sebastián. Time to stop avoiding the inevitable.
“Enough.” Lucy stepped between them. “Allie, let’s go outside, as you suggested. Jill, could you please stop filming?”
At Jill’s signal, the boom mic operator and the cameraman and camerawoman put down their equipment. They didn’t appear happy about it, though.
“Lucy—” Sebastián started to follow the two women outside.
She swung back to him. “No. I can do this myself. Trust me, Seb.”
“I do.” His mouth tight, he stopped moving. “But I can help.”
Unable to resist the impulse, she got on her tippy-toes to give him a grateful kiss. One planted safely on the cheek, of course. No point in revisiting the humiliation of yesterday.
“I need to help myself, I think.” She tried to smile. “Soon, you won’t be around to protect me.”
His jaw worked, and he turned away. “Fine. Call out if you need me.”
After she and Allie had walked a good distance from the wagon, she stopped, took a deep breath, and made herself begin a difficult conversation. “I know there aren’t a ton of tiny house options on the market right now within my price range, at least none that are already built. But have you seen any other choices? Like a yurt, for example?”
