That must’ve been where Bruno’s smell had come from. His house.
From the outside it looked like a normal house, but on the inside, the walls were exposed wood and cedar beams. The floors were an extravagant coffee brownish/black. And there wasn’t a speck of dirt anywhere on the floor.
I immediately toed my boots off in the entrance, happy to see that he’d done much the same as he’d walked inside and I followed behind him as he made his way into the house.
It wasn’t a huge house.
Based on looking at the outside, I had to guess that the house was a three bedroom. But when I walked into the entranceway and was immediately thrown into a room that had such high ceilings—vaulted and absolutely stunning—I knew that my guess was likely wrong. I’d obviously not gotten the big picture from just seeing the outside.
“Wow,” I said as I took the house in. “This place is stunning.”
The front door faced the back door, and the whole room seemed to be lit up even though all the lights were off. The ambient lighting was sensational.
“I don’t remember building it,” he admitted. “I know that this place is mine. The plans obviously are mine.” He looked around. “I remember designing the room with a lot of lighting when I sketched this place out, but I don’t remember getting it built.”
I looked at him curiously. “You designed this place?”
He nodded once as he gestured toward the kitchen that was off to the left of the large room. “Come wash your hands. Then I’ll show you to your room.”
A pang of sadness hit me at that.
I’d spent the last nights in his room, with him. I didn’t want my own room.
Yet, that would be a bit irrational of me to request seeing as the man barely knew me—even if he did have his memory back—so I kept my mouth shut.
He walked over to the kitchen sink and washed his own hands before he gestured for me to take his vacated spot.
“I’m going to go shower.” He paused. “I feel like I’ve been ground into the dirt and left to fester for days. Let me show you to your room on the way?”
I finished washing my hands, grabbed a paper towel, and then dried my hands off. Then the counter where we’d both dripped. Followed by the sink.
Then the floor where I’d watched a few droplets fall.
When I was done, I came up blushing.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to do…”
He shrugged. “Don’t care.”
I blinked.
Then decided that I didn’t care either.
Jerking my chin in his direction, I walked around the counter and fell into step with him as we made our way down the back hallway.
The entire length of it was one long tube that was quite dark.
When we got to the end, one way led to a bedroom, and the other door led to another.
“That’s my room.” He gestured toward the door on our left. “This is yours. There’s a bathroom through here.” He pointed out as he pressed against the back wall.
The door slid open, and I blinked at the bright, open and airy room.
“Wow,” I said as I took in the glass shower that dominated the middle of the room, as well as the toilet that was on the right, followed by the vanity that was on the left.
There was a bench at the back of the room that I assumed was there to get dressed on…or stare outside at the pigs. I wasn’t sure why there would be a bench.
But whatever.