“I’m in,” I say, not sure if that’s the right wording, but this is new for me. New for them, too.
She smiles and wraps her arms around me, pulling me in tight. That single move, along with the scent of her perfume and warmth of her body, let me know I’ve made the right decision.
24
Sierra
“I like what you’ve done,” the realtor, Monica, says. “The fresh paint really brightens it up, and I love the color palette.”
“Thanks,” I say, not sure how I feel about having her in the house. I forced myself to call her, knowing it needed to be done. The guys will be gone in a few weeks, and I’d set a deadline. I couldn’t drag this out forever. “Like I said on the phone, it’s a three-bedroom, two-bath. The roof has been repaired, and we’ve painted a few of the rooms. The AC still needs a tune-up, but I’m getting through most of the list the inspector left.”
“Good, good,” she says absently, eyes focused on the house. She runs her hand down the wooden mantle that is mounted above the stone fireplace. She’s only a few years older than me, the daughter of a well-known real estate agent. Her hair is shiny and styled in fat curls that hang over her shoulders. She’s pretty, and compared to me in my paint-splattered overalls, I feel like a mess. “Can I see the kitchen?”
“Of course.”
She’d shown up without much notice, and I hurry ahead to toss the coffee cups in the sink. I’d lingered over breakfast with Holden, whose habit of getting up early to hike allows us a little private time. “Breakfast” consisted mostly of kissing and a little dry humping against the counter top. We were two seconds from going further when Smith walked out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes and fumbling for the coffee pot.
“You have a husband or a partner?” Monica asks.
“Roommates,” I reply. “Sort of. I’m letting a few park rangers that lost their house in the recent fire stay with me until they get a new assignment.”
“Oh.” She smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That’s very generous of you.”
“Well, they earn their keep.” My cheeks warm at the thought of how two of them are repaying me right now. She raises an eyebrow. “You know, around the house. They’ve helped me with a lot of the clean out and repairs.”
“That sounds like a nice arrangement.” She opens the pantry and scribbles a few sentences on her notepad. She heads out of the room. “Are the bedrooms back here?”
“Yes,” I say, running to catch up to her, “but we haven’t had a chance to tackle much in there yet.”
Monica continues making notes, asking me questions about the age of the appliances, if anything has a warranty. My head starts to spin with all the questions, not just because I have to come up with the answers but because this step is major. I’m really selling my family home.
I’ve almost completely tuned her out when the front door opens, and heavy boots cross the threshold. Smith stands in the doorway, clutching his backpack over his shoulder. He’s dirty—dust and grime smudged down his cheeks and forearms. I’m not even sure how these guys get so filthy at work.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi.”
That’s about the extent of our conversations these days, both of us on edge around one another. The hostility between us is less, but neither of us know how to proceed. The fact I’m holding back the truth about my relationship with Holden and Adrian isn’t helping ease the tension.
Monica shifts noisily behind me.
“Oh, this is Monica Larson. She’s a realtor.”
“Nice to meet you,” Monica says in an overly friendly voice. “You must be one of the displaced rangers staying with Sierra. The fire was so dreadful. I’m glad to see you got out safely.”
“I did,” he says, eyes sweeping over her. I don’t blame him. Monica looks like a runway model next to me. I could possibly pass as a maintenance worker. What I don’t like is how seeing him looking at her like that makes me feel.
“How long will you be staying here?” she asks.
His eyes slide from her face to mine, then back again. “I think we’ll have housing again in a few weeks. Sierra has been very generous to let us stay until it’s available, but really, it’s time we stopped imposing.”
“Well, if you need anything, let me know. I’m a big supporter of our service people. The national parks are what make this area so appealing for people to move here.” Monica stands a little straighter, making those curls hang closer to her breasts. A flare of irrational jealousy ripples through me.
“I will,” he replies, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go take a shower.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Monica purrs.
Smith nods and walks past me, elbow bumping into me as he squeezes through the tight space.