“I ain’t gonna change my mind about anything, sugar twang. But I won’t be compartmentalized anymore either. I don’t have a problem with you bein’ friends with Sutton. But I do have a problem with you telling him stuff you oughta be telling me. You’d better be as comfortable talking to me as you are f**king me. We clear on that?”

Well, then. No misunderstanding those terms. “Uh. Yeah. I . . . can we be done talking about this right now?”

Those fierce golden-brown eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because I really want you to show me this fancy house of yours, Doc.”

Fletch smiled. “That, I can do. Come on.” He held her hand as he led her into the interior. Light streamed through the windows, falling across hardwood floors the color of warm honey. The entire space was open. Oversized leather furniture was arranged in front of a rock fireplace. The kitchen wasn’t enormous but it utilized the space well. It boasted an island with a cooktop surrounded on the front side by a breakfast bar.

“Great kitchen,” she commented. “Do you use it a lot?”

He shrugged. “I’m usually not here enough to do much cooking. My dad comes over and putters around.”

Tanna admired the artwork adorning the walls. Native American themed, it ran the gamut from scenes painted on leather animal skins, to different types of old weapons, to drawings seemingly painted by children. She came to a dead stop upon seeing the six-foot-tall metal sculpture. Without searching for the artist’s signature, she knew this work was the creation of the same guy who’d done the art at the Split Rock.

The piece was a mishmash of metal parts: chains, plates, pieces of pipe, horseshoes, silverware, doorknobs, mysterious chunks of junk she couldn’t name. But somehow, it all blended together to create a tipi. Even the parts that were supposed to resemble billows of fabric or animal skin stretched around the base were forged from sheets of metal. It was one of the most remarkable sculptures she’d ever seen.

She ran her finger over the tipi poles sticking out the top, crafted out of thick, rusty sections of rebar. “This piece absolutely blows my mind.”

“Braxton really knocked it out of the park with this one.” Fletch chuckled. “I commissioned it when Braxton was an unknown artist and needed cash. He keeps trying to buy it back from me to display at an art gallery, but I keep refusing. It’s really the first cool thing I bought for myself that spoke of my race.”

“I don’t blame you for keeping it private.” Tanna glanced at the opposite wall. It held an elaborate family crest, done up like a family tree with branches going every which way. Encased behind glass because it appeared to be hand painted. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And this?”

“My dad’s family is Scottish. He knew I’d taken an interest in my Indian heritage so he wanted to be sure I had that part of me too.”

“Sweet.”

“You want me to continue the tour?”

“Lead on, MacDuff.”

Fletch groaned.

“At least I didn’t whoop out an Indian war cry.”

He groaned again. “You really have no filter, do you?”

Tanna froze. “Does that bother you?”

He smiled and leaned down to brush his mouth across her wrinkled brow. “Nope. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

The wide hallway opened into a great room. “It’s too dark to see the back, but there’s a meadow, and trees with a small stream.”

“You’ve got water?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Celia indicated water was a hard commodity to come by here in the high plains desert.”

“It is. Probably why I paid a pretty penny for this piece of land. Although, the guy did drop the price when I pointed out it wasn’t like I could run livestock beyond a horse or two.”

Now that he mentioned it . . . she hadn’t seen any dogs or cats. “Don’t you have animals?”

He shook his head. “My practice leaves me no time. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, animals needed tending. Wouldn’t be fair to leave a dog alone for sixteen hours and I can’t take one with me.”

“True.” She spun a slow circle in the room. “So. No TV in here, huh?”

“With this view? Nope. That’s why it’s in the den by the fireplace.”

“Oh. I didn’t notice.” No doubt this was a single man’s pad. Big, comfy furniture. Sturdy coffee table overrun by stacks of magazines. “So, is that some of the reading material you needed to catch up on?”

“That’s not even half.”

Fletch tugged her to a closed door on the right side and it opened into his bedroom.

The gigantic bed was the showpiece in the room. Larger than a king size and at least a foot taller than the biggest four-poster she’d seen. The comforter was tan, the pillows were navy and a star quilt was draped at the foot of the bed.

She touched the tip of one vibrant red star. “That’s really pretty.”

“One thing my mother didn’t manage to hock,” he said dryly.

As much as Tanna wanted a more thorough look at his bedroom, she switched to a neutral topic. “How many bedrooms does this house have?”

“Three. We used an A-frame for the forward portion of the house and there’s a bedroom up in the loft area. I bump my head on the ceiling, so we needed to expand. Holt built the master suite on one side. On the opposite side is another room I use as a home office and then there’s a workout room.” He opened a door. “The bathroom’s in here.”