Page 62 of Dirty Sweet Cowboy


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I turn into the driveway, gunning it to hit the big hill and loft slightly over the top. I can’t help it. Maseratis are just a lot of fun to drive. I park at the end of the smooth concrete and trot around the back of the car to open her door. She places her hand in mine, staring in wide-eyed wonder at my house as she rises from the low-slung seat of the sports car .

“It’s nice to have some privacy,” I admit. “It can get to be a little much, sometimes… maybe. But who am I to complain? You want the tour ?”

“Absolutely,” she nods avidly .

Ben comes out, ready to take our bags to the bedroom. He salutes me smartly as I lead Ava toward the foyer .

“Who’s that?” she whispers .

“That’s Ben. He manages the house when Perry is unavailable. You’ll never know he’s here. He’s very discreet .”

“He saluted you ?”

“Oh, that. We served together,” I explain, trying to figure out the best way to pack the whole story into a carefree, ten-second summary. Quickly I realize it’s impossible and just brush it off .

“I met a lot of good people in the Marines.” I start again. “After I got back, Mom and Dad set me up with a day-trading account and a little seed money… I made some good—well, some lucky decisions—and suddenly I had enough to start a small venture capital company. Soon as I was made like that, I wanted to find my buddies and make sure they were okay too .”

I realize we haven’t actually gone anywhere. We’re still standing in the foyer. She is staring up at me with a dreamy half smile on her lips .

“You mean to tell me that you struck it rich, then went to go find your military buddies to give them jobs ?”

“Best guys in the world,” I shrug. “Not sure I could ever trust anybody the way I trust these guys. So, there’s Perry and Ben managing my life and a couple of houses. Then there’s Tabitha and Willie running my legal department... Nathan keeping an eye on my trades… Digger runs out to bark at the startups to make sure they’re actually on task… It’s a whole thing. My crew .”

“That’s kind of… well, it’s kind of awesome!” she smiles, her cheeks dimpling sweetly. I lean forward and press my lips against the top of her forehead, inhaling the scent of her caramel-colored hair. It feels good, the way that she approves of me so completely. I guess I still care what she thinks .

“Come on, let me show you around,” I whisper into her hair, tugging her by the hand .

The house is impressive, I have to admit. I can’t take much credit for it since it was built eighty years ago or so, other than I had the foresight to buy it before somebody tore it down to put a hotel up here or something .

California has always had secret mansions in secluded places, so they’re not that hard to find on real estate websites. It’s always been fashionable for famous people to complain about being famous and wanting to get away, I suppose .

Once you’re at ground level here, there is a very nice kind of protected castle feeling. It seems like at some point, every actor and studio executive and musician thought it would be a cool idea to build themselves a castle and moat, somewhere out here in fairytale land .

I take her through room after room of terrazzo floors and plaster arches, fluted columns and hidden cupboards behind mahogany panels. She’s appropriately delighted, clapping her fingertips under her sweet, round chin .

In the grand, oval-shaped living room, I lead her toward the semicircular row of windows that seem to almost hang in space, facing the Pacific .

“Oh, the black sand beaches,” she sighs. “Haven’t seen them since I was little .”

“You remember?” I ask her .

She turns to me slightly, her eyelashes fluttering, her expression vague. “Remember?” she repeats .

“We were here once. Our families. Well, not exactly here, but somewhere along the stretch of this beach. We rented adjoining cabins and just hung out for a weekend. Ring any bells ?”

I search her eyes, watching her struggle. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight, but even then, she always got my attention. While I hung out with Aden, she left and cartwheeled along the surf like a fairy princess. She never even needed anybody to play with. She was always just full of joy, seemingly entertained by the very act of breathing .

“I think I remember the beach,” she says quietly, staring at it. “But nothing else. Nobody else. I almost felt like I was alone. That’s so weird !”

“I guess you were always kind of in your own little world .”

She wrinkles her nose shyly. “Yeah, that’s what everybody says. I was always kind of a daydreamer. Bea says I’m uptight .”

“Are you hungry, daydreamer?” I ask her, unsure what else to say. Somehow, she’s just a little too charming. Maybe I just know her too well. Sometimes looking at her is confusing. I need to remember to keep things light .

“Starving,” she confesses .

“Perfect,” I smirk. Behind us is the chef’s kitchen which I strategically left for last anyway. I figured we would end up here in this room. She gazes admiringly at the Viking range, the Sub-Zero freezer. She knows it’s the good stuff, so I don’t have to explain it to her as part of the house tour .

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