Someone else wanted this dump… and she spent more on it?
Oh Christ.
My brain hurt trying to keep up with her. I’m sure luck had nothing to do with this, just a bubbled housing market that had yet to recover fully in our part of the country.
“You know, it was actually under budget, quite a steal.”
“I’m sure it was a steal.” I mumbled. It was a steal right from her pretty little bank account. I was going to strangle that bank manager when I saw him next. If it was still Phil Harmond or his kid that took over, Paul, I was going to torture the life out of them both and then maybe bury them in the backyard of this shit hole for taking advantage of her.
Her overly positive attitude told me this was pretty much a done deal. In fact, I’d place bets that she’d already signed the paperwork, damning the next three to six months of my life working on this thing.
My choices were to either help her, or I’m sure smarty-pants here would find someone else to do it. Yeah, only one option here. I sure as hell didn’t want a shitty contractor taking advantage of my best friend.
“Taylor Jane Bryant.” Using her full name, something only her parents and myself did, I needed her attention focused.
“Honey, there’s a lot that goes into flipping a property. I mean, did you talk to anyone about this? What about your dad?” If her father, Alan, knew about this I had to shake my head at what the world was coming to. Alan Bryant was as protective of her as I was.
My skepticism must have been transparent because she resumed her full pout. “Don’t be condescending, Hunter, I’m not fourteen, I realize that. The bank wouldn’t have given me a mortgage if they thought this was a terrible idea.” The bank manager was probably dazzled by Taylor Jane’s big blue eyes and thought nothing of giving her a loan she had no business taking.
“I even drew up my own RFP and budget.” Smiling made her face light up with this inner energy you had to see to believe. Yup, fuck a duck. She dazzled the shit out of that bank manager with her mortgage request for proposed funds. Where would she even get the collateral? I was afraid to ask about her parents’ house and couldn’t help the groan that passed my lips. It was useless to fight the tornado that was Taylor Jane Bryant.
“Hey.” She tugged on my arm, getting my attention. “I spent the last four years watching the Property Brothers do it while I was in college. It’s going to be fun working together, bestie!”
Oh God… even I knew of those guys, both nice, but a bad influence on Taylor Jane.
She wrapped her arm around my head, pulling me down to rub her knuckles against my scalp. She used to do this in high school and the feelings I tamped down back then roared with an intensity I barely reined in. It was irritating and put me in close proximity of my best friend’s breasts. Beautiful perky mounds I should not have been noticing. I tried thinking of other things, thinking of the girl I was casually seeing, but nothing stymied the softness and fresh smell of the girl right next to me.
I pushed back gently, untangling myself from her. “Are you seriously telling me you want to flip a house because two wankers on TV….” I couldn’t even finish my sentence that’s how flustered she got me.
You know what they say about blondes? Taylor Jane had a full head of natural blonde hair. Now I’m not saying she was that type of blonde, but I had my moments when I wondered if there were stereotypes for a reason.
In the silence of the truck, she flicked something off her leg and looked up at me with her big bottomless blue eyes.
Hook.
Line.
Sinker.
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Shrugging, she fluttered her eyelashes. I groaned out loud. I knew I was doing this before the words even left my mouth, telling her to knock it off with the puppy eyes. She was my apple pie and girl next door that couldn’t compare to anything else in this world.
“How hard could it be?” And there it was, she’d already barreled through like a rodeo bull and tossed me hard. I couldn’t say no in good conscience.
Damn it.
“If you don’t want to help me, Hunter, just say so and I’ll find another contractor willing to work with me.” She sighed, looking over her dream house straight out of a B rated horror film.
Oh hell to the fuck no is she going to pull that trick with me.
Some happy meals lacked French fries.
Crayon boxes were often missing crayons.
Taylor Jane… had a sparkle that rivaled fucking vampires.
I’m so screwed.