“In any case,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “it’s a good, strategic situation.”
“And before we all drown in the rain, let me show you what else should be useful.”
As Bran led the way back in, Sasha rubbed a hand down Riley’s arm. When Riley mimed pointing a gun at her head, firing, Sasha shook her head, gave that arm a squeeze.
Then they both moved more quickly when they heard Annika’s shout of delight.
They followed the sound, made a turn, and came into a third-floor area spread under a half dozen skylights.
“Hot damn!” Riley didn’t do handsprings—as Annika did in front of the wall of mirrors that obviously delighted her—but she did rub her hands together.
The excellent home gym had bamboo floors the color of raw honey, a full circuit of machines. Two treadmills and a pair of elliptical machines faced the rain-splattered wall of windows, as did a recumbent bike. A TRX dominated one corner; a full-sized, glass-fronted refrigerator—already stocked with water and energy drinks—another.
It boasted weight benches, free weights, a rolled stack of yoga mats, kettlebells, medicine balls, balance balls.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Riley said, and immediately plucked a ten-pound weight from the rack.
“Good enough, I’d think, for those calisthenics if the weather doesn’t cooperate.”
Doyle shrugged at Bran’s comment. “Battles happen in foul weather as much as fair. But . . . It’ll be useful. Hmm. Chin-up bar.”
“Oh, hell,” Sasha muttered, and made him smile.
“Why don’t you try it out, Blondie? Show us what you’ve got.”
“I’m still having my moment.”
“Tomorrow then. First light. I can work some circuits into the training, and the weights are welcome. But we run outside, rain or shine. A machine doesn’t give you the feel of the ground under your feet.”
“The walls are so shiny!” Annika executed a graceful and perfect handstand in front of the mirror. “I like to see how it looks.”
“So would I, if I looked like you.” After a few biceps curls, Riley replaced the weight. “Free to use anytime, Irish?”
“It’s yours as it’s mine.”
“Solid. I’m going to grab some gym time later. That’ll be my moment,” she told Sasha.
“It takes all kinds. I intend to set up my easel.”
“Speaking of easels, and paintings . . .” Riley turned to Bran.
“That’s next. I should tell you there’s a wet area through those doors.”
“Wet?” Annika said, coming neatly to her feet.
“A steam room, a Jacuzzi, a shower, and a changing area. I regret the lack of a pool.”
“Oh, it’s all right. The sea’s so close.”
Smiling, he gestured toward the door. “There’s some storage on this level,” he began as he led them out. “More bedrooms, a sitting area.”
“How big is this family of yours?” Sawyer asked.
“Including cousins?” With a laugh, Bran paused at a door in a rounded wall—a door of dark wood that looked ancient and had no knob, no hinges. “Well over a hundred, I’d think.”
“A . . . hundred?”
He laughed again at Sasha’s reaction. “Too late for you to back out now, mo chroí.”