Chasing Heartbreak (Dark Love 6)

“It’s a nice property,” I tell him, keeping my expression fixed. “We’ll have a talk and get back to you soon.”

I shake his hand, prompting our exit, not giving any indication of how I truly feel because that’s the first sign of weakness. Negotiation is a strong trait of mine, and there’s not a chance in hell we’ll pay their asking price.

Inside the car, I turn to Noah. “What do you think?”

“That you’re a shark with excellent negotiation skills.”

“I mean about the house.”

“It’s beautiful, it has everything we need, but to be honest, I don’t care as long as you’re by my side.”

“Cue the romantic talk, Mason,” I huff with a playful smile. “But did you see the wainscoting?”

Noah covers his face with his hands, releasing a groan. “Enough with the wainscoting. I don’t care about that. If you love it, it’s ours.”

I do love it. I love it too much. Charlie knew I’d love it, and because Charlie loves it, and we have similar tastes, I know this will be the one.

“I don’t want to give Richard an offer just yet. The sellers are motivated. I did a little snooping, and a large percentage of this sale will go to the pussy cheater. So, the jilted husband will accept lower just to get her back.”

“How do you even know all this?”

“Don’t underestimate my power, baby.”

Noah’s phone buzzes between us. He reaches to grab it, reading the text with a concerned expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Morgan. She has to fly out tonight for a last-minute meeting and asked if I can have Jessa all weekend.”

It’s supposed to be our first weekend together in which we have no plans but to lay in bed and watch Netflix. Keeping my expression stilled, I press my lips thoughtfully together to curb my disappointment.

“Is that okay?” he adds, eyeing me dubiously.

“Of course, she’s your daughter. You never have to ask.”

“I know, but it’s our first weekend.”

“Listen, we’ll have fun. So, Morgan knows, right?”

Noah rubs his neck, wincing while avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, bloody hell,” I berate, my British slang tumbling out in sheer frustration. “Vous êtes impossible!”

“Hey!” Noah scoffs, his face hardening. “Pick a language, will you? I’m not impossible. I told her you moved to the States and that we’re in a relationship.”

“But?”

“I just left out the part of you living with me…” he trails off in a softer tone.

I throw my head back into the seat, annoyed at his resistance to finally tell her the whole truth. “You need to grow some balls and tell her.”

“I have balls, thank you very much,” he notes in dark amusement. “In fact, you loved them in your mouth only an hour ago. I’ll tell her, I promise.”

“Well, you’re running out of time, buddy. Jessa will come over tonight, and what would you like me to do, magically disappear all weekend?”

“No,” he states firmly. “I’ll sort this out today.”

The ride to the office is quiet, each one of us keeping our thoughts to ourselves. It dampens my mood, and after we go our separate ways, I receive a text from Noah during an afternoon conference call.