Tuesday
Aislen could hear the music pumping out of the house as they got out of the Ute and dashed through the rain to the veranda. They stood, shaking water from themselves and stomping mud and debris off their shoes as they removed them before stepping into the warmth of the house. The rock music shook the walls, and was a contrast to the dignified, era-appropriate restoration of the hallway, with its elegant furnishings.
Heath and Cameron hung their coats on the hooks, and stacked shoes on the shoe rack beneath them.
“Rhett likes to play his music loud when he’s painting,” Cameron told them. “I hope Tyler’s not pissed about it.”
“Tyler will be asleep,” Talen shrugged. “I sedated him. He will wake tomorrow, starving and grumpy, and spend three days moping around the house and nappi
