13
The sun was low in the sky when we reached Brett’s cabin. There were no cars; only nature surrounded us and the gulf. And a gigantic house.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, sliding off the motorcycle. “This isn’t a cabin! It’s a palace!”
“Expecting something smaller?” he asked.
“He said it was a cabin. I was expecting a hunting shack in the woods.”
Rand’s lip curled. “I don’t design shacks.”
“You designed this?”
“What the hell do you think I do?”
“I don’t know . . . hit nails into wood. Brett said you and Mike had a construction business. I didn’t know designing was part of it.”
“Well, it is. At least for me.”
Scanning the two story “cabin,” I could see why they might label it as such. While it was huge, spread out like a ranch, it had an earthy feel to it. Many logs were used i
