I want to ask him to take me to get my truck, but there’s something so off putting about asking him for another favor. He’s done so much for me that even this small thing seems like a herculean task.

Even now, with Sentinel on a stretcher between us as we walk the sort distance to his home, I feel overwhelming gratitude. And Sentinel, still sleeping off the pain meds and anesthetic, is resting easily.

Jax, still a bit wobbly on his feet, walks beside Kyle without a leash. But he’s so well behaved it doesn’t seem at all off that he’s almost heeling without being reminded. Every once in a while he looks up at his owner, his ears cocked, as if Kyle’s saying something I can’t hear.

At the door of the beautiful home, I notice that the place is ultra-modern, sleek and beautiful. It’s all dark walls, steel beams and floor to ceiling glass rectangles. The door itself is a single sheet of glass that he unlocks with a weird key and slides it open.

“Who built this? I ask in awe.

Kyle looks over his shoulder at me. “Connor.” The single word is rife with emotion, and I sense there’s a connection between the men. Perhaps they’re lovers.

“It’s beautiful,” I say as I step over the threshold. The inside is beautiful. Underfoot there’s an ashen off white wood floor glossed to a mirror like shine. The walls are soft grey until about halfway up, in which they’re a delicate cream color. The ceilings are the same silken grey, with ultra-bright recessed lighting.

The outside of the windows show that he’s either an avid gardener or he’s got landscapers working regularly. I know that there’s a town on the other side of the greenery out each window, but it’s hard to believe it when you can’t see it. Or hear it.

“Bring him in here,” Kyle says as he guides me through the house. I follow and find myself in a dining room slash kitchen area. A marble covered counter separates the two rooms, and a table that seats eight is in the middle of the dining room.

Past the table there’s another sliding door. This one opens to a back yard that’s all greenery and a tall wooden fence in the deepest cherry color. By that back door, we gingerly set Sentinel’s stretcher on the ground.

“I’ll get him a bed,” Kyle says and sets off down a hall. I chase him, wanting to help. And see more of this amazing house, of course.

He stops at a wall with seams that just looks like decoration. But he presses around mid-height on the walls and they pop open. Inside, there are linens, sheets and the like, and some blankets. He takes one from the bottom shelf, a microfiber blanket in the deepest earthen brown, and hands it to me.

I take it as he grabs a few things here and there, sheets, pillow cases, a pillow off the top shelf, a nice microfiber blanket that’s a soft tawny fawn color. He walks further down the hall and into another room.

This room is the same color scheme as the rest of the house, but one wall is totally painted a deep mahogany that relaxes me like nothing else. This is someone who uses color to affect mood. I love it.

“Did you choose the colors?” I ask as he places the sheets on the bed. He glances at me over his shoulder and I’m struck by how the colors seem to intensify the incredible blue of his eyes.

“I did. But it occurs to me that you may be more comfortable in the mother in law.” His gaze is searching and I nod. I’d much rather have my own space.

“If that’s not too much trouble,” I say gently as he scoops up the sheets and blankets once more.

“Not at all,” he says, his tone short. We head back into the room where Sentinel is sleeping and Jax is standing guard, albeit in a laying down, half-asleep kind of way.

“The dark one stays,” Kyle says, jerking his chin toward the blanket in my hands. I set it down and he opens the back sliding door. I’m hot on his heels as he walks down off the little stone porch and down a little path. The mother in law is huge, like another house in the back yard. It’s quite like a smaller version of the main house.

He opens the door and leads me into the place. It’s like a little one bedroom apartment complete with a bathroom, kitchen, and everything. It’s a dream place, way more beautiful than the shitty little studio apartments I’ve been looking at.

The thought of what I’m going to do next crosses my mind and I shift uncomfortably as Kyle leads me into the bedroom. We make up the bed, working together on the fitted sheet, neither of us speaking.

It’s going to be so difficult to find an apartment without a steady income. I have to hope I’ll find someone willing to take first and last month’s rent without my even having a job. And I’ll have to get a job right away. It’s scary walking into the unknown like this, but when I consider the alternative…

I shiver.

Kyle glances at me, his stunning blue eyes serious. “Are you cold?” he asks, his voice oddly husky. I wonder what he’s thinking, but shake off the questions to answer him.

“No,” I say, running a finger along the soft blanket. The colors in this room are just as soothing. This one is that same gray as the main house, but the accent wall is a pale minty green. So very pale, in fact, I begin to question myself if it really has a green tint or if my eyes are playing tricks on me.

“I’ll show you where the thermostat is,” he says, and I follow him back into the dining area. The kitchen is all stainless steel and cream colors. The counters are the same white marble as the main house, and I wonder if I’ve died and gone to heaven. This place is absolutely incredible.

He stops so suddenly I almost slam into him and he presses his thumb to the button and it shows that it’s sixty-eight degrees. But I don’t’ care about the temperature I care that suddenly, standing next to him, I feel breathless. It’s like he’s sending out little pulses of static energy that are tickling my skin.