Welcome Home, Bobby Winslow. Christyne Butler
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“He was twenty-three.” Bobby pulled on his seat belt. “And yet you still made a show of knocking him through the screen door.”
“Hey, my pride was at stake.”
“And you made sure the girl got home okay. Even Daisy didn’t want anything to do with her.”
Zip shrugged, buckled his seat belt as well and started the engine. “Daisy doesn’t like any females. Never has, unlike me. What can I say? I was in love and stupid. Runs in the family, right?”
Yeah, Bobby and Zip might not be blood, but they were family just the same.
“Drive, bro.” Bobby kept his gaze on the road and ran his hands along the tops of his thighs, kneading at the tight muscles. “I’m ready to go home.”
By nine the next morning, Bobby felt much better.
If better meant enduring a morning physical therapy session that twisted him inside out and upside down. They’d finished the workout by christening the new indoor pool with a race Zip had won, barely, and twenty minutes in the steam room.
Now fresh from the shower and dressed, Bobby palmed a cup of hot coffee as he sat in his office. He leaned back in his chair and stared out the window at the acres of trees surrounding his new home.
That was a lot of green.
And gold and orange and red and burgundy. Fall in Wyoming. His favorite season.
He’d grown up the child of a single mother, his father gone before Bobby had started kindergarten. They’d lived in a third-floor, two-bedroom apartment located in the center of town next to Mason’s Garage.
Despite Destiny being a small place, it had plenty of parks, fairgrounds and wide-open spaces, but Bobby had always longed for a tree-filled yard of his own.
He finally had it—and it was a yard that once had belonged to Leeann.
A yard where her family’s Georgian-style mansion, the home she’d grown up in, stood, until an electric storm set fire to the empty house.
He’d only been out to the Harris home a few times when he was young, but he’d never been allowed inside. Her parents had forbidden Leeann to invite him in.
Not that he’d stayed away entirely.
A nearby pond, which hadn’t been visible from the Harris house and still couldn’t be seen through the thick forest of trees, was a favorite meeting spot for him and Lee.
Deep in the woods, with only a well-worn path far from the house marking the way, was a place they’d met when they wanted to be together.
To talk, to laugh, to fall in love. It was the place he’d asked Leeann to marry him on a snowy Valentine’s Day with a cheap diamond chip of a ring.
A place that still belonged to his former fiancée.
When he’d heard from his mother that the Harris land was up for sale—one of the rare times she’d mentioned Leeann—he’d put his lawyers on the task of purchasing the property. Originally made up of thirty-five prime Wyoming acres he’d vowed as a teenager to one day own, it was only twenty-seven acres when the purchase went through.
Prophetic, as his race car was also number twenty-seven.
Leeann had held on to the remaining land, eight acres that included the pond. When he’d seen the final offer, he’d had to admit it gave him a warm feeling to know she’d wanted to keep that place for herself.
“There you are.” Zip interrupted his thoughts as he walked into the office. “Jeez, we walked around this castle of yours three times last night and I’m still lost. I think you need to print some maps. I can’t even find my dog.”
“Daisy was sunning herself in the family room the last time I saw her. And you know this place like the back of your hand.” Bobby swung around to face his friend. “You should, you studied the floor plans as much as I did this summer.”
“As long as I can figure out how to find the kitchen, I’m golden.” His buddy took a large bite from the apple in his hand. “So what’s on the agenda today? Maybe bring a little life to this place?”
“What are you talking about?” Bobby put down his mug. “The house is perfect.”
“Yeah, it’s got more flat-screen televisions than a sports bar and the ‘I love me’ wall downstairs is cute, but it still looks like something out of a magazine.”
“Displaying all those awards and honors wasn’t my idea. Blame the decorators.”
“Yeah, they did such a great job this place looks more like a museum than a—wait, what the heck is that?”
A red light recessed into the top of Bobby’s desk flashed. He pressed his thumb over the glass and it went out.
Reaching for the handmade cane his mother had given him in the hospital when he’d first started walking again, Bobby heaved himself up. “Come on, I think you’re going to like this.”
At the far wall, he ran one hand along the edge of the commissioned oil painting of his race car until he found a hidden button.
A door-size portion of log wall slid silently to the left, disappearing into a hollow opening in the wall. Bobby entered the room on the other side, his buddy tight on his heels.
“Okay, that was a little James Bondish.” Zip stopped next to him. “What is all this?”
A double row of monitors lined the far wall, eight in total, which flashed live images of Bobby’s home and land.
“This is my security center. I can see what’s going on 24/7 from the driveway to the ends of my property.”
“Other than that fancy wood-and-iron gate we passed through, I didn’t see any fencing. Jeez, I never even noticed the cameras.”
“That ‘fancy’ gate is actually high-strength aluminum made to look like wood. The fencing is electronic, and the cameras wireless and well hidden. This is a state-of-the-art system Devlin Murphy put together.”
“Is he part of Murphy Mountain Log Homes that built this place?”
Bobby nodded. “Same company. Dev heads the home security side of things.”
“I know you had some troubles with that nutty fangirl last year, but still, isn’t this a bit much?”
“That wasn’t just a fangirl. I went downstairs one morning and found her fixing breakfast … after she broke in.”
“And your overnight companion wasn’t too happy to find another female in the house, if I remember the news reports correctly.” Zip smiled. “Or was the catfight just a nasty rumor?”
It wasn’t. Despite his fame and sometimes overzealous fans, it was Bobby’s first brush with someone who’d