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“Thanks. I like the neighborhood a lot.” Holden smiled fondly before opening the car door and transferring to his wheelchair. A narrow ramp replaced what would usually be a step from the garage into the house. “I was specifically looking for a one-level with two bedrooms with ensuite bathrooms because my brother Greg was house hunting with me, and I knew Marley would likely want the room eventually.”
“Mm-hmm.” I made a noncommittal noise to show I was listening, even if I had trouble imagining having siblings, let alone ones who cared enough to tour houses with me.
“When this three bedroom-three bath came on the market, I knew it was perfect. It didn’t require a lot of retrofitting to make it accessible either.” Holden rolled up the ramp to the door. “Let me give you the tour.”
“Sure.” I followed him in. His pride of place was cute. House might look the same as thousands of other ranches, but this one was his, and clearly, that mattered to him. We entered a mudroom area with two rows of hooks, one at chair height. A pair of forearm crutches stood next to a neat shoe bench.
Holden whizzed past a laundry room and bathroom, emerging into an open-plan living and dining area with an adjacent kitchen.
“Sorry about the stacks of grading.” Holden paused at the oak dining table to straighten one of several piles of papers. “I have an office, but that’s been mainly taken over by podcasting equipment. And I prefer to grade while watching terrible TV.”
“I see how it is,” I teased, something I’d forgotten I knew how to do. “Like that dating show. Poor Timber with his big decision.”
Holden grinned like I’d given him a gift by ribbing him. “Hey, you want to see how that season ends? I have all the streaming options.”
“Says the guy who was impressed by hospital cable.” Suppressing the urge to smile, I kept my tone gas station-biscuit dry.
“Well…” A faint blush crept up Holden’s cheeks. Yup. I’d known it. He hadn’t stuck around for free TV.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to stay, but I’m… Thanks.” God, even thank you was hard with my painfully rusty social skills. I wanted to say I was glad he’d stayed with me at the clinic, but I bailed on that sentiment at the last second. Instead, I paced to the seating area, crouching to note blue squares by the couch and table legs. “What’s with the tape?”
“That was my sister Marley’s idea. It’s for the cleaning folks, so they know where we have things placed for optimal wheelchair maneuvering. I’m an easygoing guy. My only pet peeve as a roommate is stuff on the floors or things left out where I could trip or run over something.”
“Makes sense.” I nodded. He wouldn’t have to worry about a mess with me. “After living in barracks and then the RV, I’m used to tight quarters and picking up after myself. Clutter makes me itchy.”
“Ha.” Holden laughed like I’d intended a joke there. “You’re a diver. I can always trust scuba folks to share my attention to detail.”
Huh. My neck ached, an ever-present reminder of the day before, but I’d forgotten Holden was a diver too.
“Maybe we can make a trade.”
“Oh?” Eyes wide, Holden sounded legit startled.
Crap. I realized too late how that likely sounded. I leveled my breathing, willing myself not to blush. “I might not be able to pay cash right away for the room, but what if I promised you dive time?”
“I thought you only dive solo?” Damn Holden. He knew what a big offer this was for me, and he had to go and point it out.
“I do. But I also know folks in the diving community. I bet I could organize something.” I tried to sound way more confident about this plan than I actually was. “Or I’ll take you myself.”
“Cal.” Holden gazed up at me with soft hazel eyes that saw much more than I wanted. “You don’t have to make yourself do something you hate.”
“I don’t hate diving with a buddy or in a group. Used to be my favorite thing in the world.” I knelt to press a stray piece of masking tape back down.
“I’m sorry.” Holden’s voice was soft, almost timid, but when I straightened, his eyes were alert, seeming to bore into mine, clamoring to know my story. But to his credit, he didn’t voice that demand.
“You seem up on current events.” I flopped onto the sofa in front of the picture window. “You hear about the Indonesian incident a few years back?”
“The one where three SEALs died trying to rescue those miners?” Holden wrinkled his forehead like he was thinking hard. “There was a whole inquest after… Oh, wait. That’s how you know Monroe?”
“Yep. Good work, Professor.” I gave a mock salute to his deduction. “That was our mission. Those were my men. Lost the best dive buddy I ever had, my best friend, my…” I couldn’t go on. Let Holden read whatever he wanted into that pause. Gruffly, I added, “Other two we left behind were also damn fine divers, fathers, and husbands.”
