Cold Hearted Bachelor

My new house is halfway between Colorado Springs and Denver, so maybe I’ll start building my clientele between the two cities. I’m positive my boss, Chuck, would love that. The main reason I became a realtor was the flexibility to work my own hours. Some days can be tough, but I’ve actually become really good at it.

I love walking into a home and helping the potential buyer find ways to make the place theirs.

“Just keep going down this road for a while.” We still aren’t even close, and although it’s early, like seven o’clock, I feel bad for making him drive all this way. “I really should have brought my own car.”

“Stop. I don’t mind.” He travels down the winding road that leads further and further away from civilization. “This is a ways out.”

“Yeah, I love the homey feel of the town.” I turn to face him. “What about you? Where do you live?”

“In a condo downtown. It was actually the first condo building your brother and I built.”

I must look like a lovestruck teenager, my elbow on the arm rest, chin in hand, as I stare at him. But, I assure you, I’m not. “That’s so cool. I can’t imagine what that must feel like.”

“What what feels like?”

“To build something and it’s now part of the city skyline. It’s got to be a powerful feeling.”

He chuckles, and the husky sound fills the cab, charming my traitorous ears. “Yeah, I guess.” He glances at me for a beat. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it that way.”

“You and Spencer should be proud.” And then I sit up, glancing out the window. “Turn left up here.”

He spots my house and curses low under his breath.

Four

Vaughn

* * *

Fuck.

“You don’t like it? Is it worse than you thought?” Paisley’s wide eyes glance over at me. But all I can focus on is the property.

The land.

The lack of lighting.

The lack of security.

“No, it’s not that. But, fuck. Pea. There’s no lights, no gate, nothing to keep you safe at all. Anyone can come onto your property.”

She smiles. “Well, that’s why you and Spencer are going to fix the place up.”

I blow out a deep breath of frustration. “Yeah, ok.” I’ll need to call someone to get lights on her property, first thing.

“It’ll be so much nicer, once it’s all done,” she continues. “See, over there. I love that tree. It will be great to hang a tire swing for kids to swing on.”

And fuck, again. Now I’m picturing Paisley with a whole litter of children. A strong husband by her side. A man who will be lucky enough to touch her every night.

“Mmph,” I grumble, not really agreeing with anything, because the thought of her with a husband slays the inner part of my mind that wishes she could be mine.

“Come inside.” She tugs at my arm. “You’ll see it’s not that bad.”

It really is that bad. In the dusk, the large house, with its haphazard shutters, looks like something straight out of a horror movie. As I follow Paisley up the driveway, the realization hits me there’s no other houses around for miles. Her safety out here concerns me.

“The power’s on inside,” Paisley says, as if that’s going to make everything better.

Based on the scream the steps give when I walk up them to the wrap-around porch, they’ll need to be replaced.

Paisley slides the key in the lock of the front door and looks up at me. “Ready?” she asks. It’s almost like she wants me to love this place as much as she does.

“Yep.”

She unlocks the door, steps inside, and flips on the lights. Worn hardwoods and faded wallpaper assault my eyes.

“Wow, this place is a…” I stare at the open space and rub the back of my neck, unable to finish my sentence.

It’s a mess.

She steps in front of me and nails me with a hand on my chest. “I know what you’re thinking. It definitely needs work, but can’t you see the possibility?”

Being this close to her, while she’s wearing this dress, reminds me of the choice I had to make that night. And I have to make the same one now.

I fight the pull to her and step away. “Show me your vision.”

She smiles, slow at first, but then it lights up her whole face, and I try not to get lost in the beauty of it.

She moves into the living room, and crosses to the left wall. “I’d love a fireplace here with a TV above it.” Mentally, I log all of her must-haves as she floats around the musty room describing the built-in bookshelves she wants.

“It’s all do-able,” I say as she leads me into the kitchen. If this is the heart of the home, it’s definitely in cardiac arrest. “Yikes.”

“With new cabinets and countertops, this will be amazing. There’s so much room in here.” She splays her hands on the battered Formica countertop. “Use your imagination.”