I drew my neck back.Keep her house?
“What do you mean?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, since I’m essentially giving my secrets to the enemy, but my lawyer told me I wouldn’t win in court. He advised me to let the cabinets be installed and have you put a contractor’s lien on the house which means—”
“You’d have to sell your house,” I finished for her.
“Yeah.” Tears filled her eyes when she looked across the table at me. “I don’t want to have to leave Lancastle. So, if it means living with crooked cabinets, or even cabinets just taking up space in my garage, I’ll do it.”
Aw hell.
Tears were worse than having her pissed off at me. I could take her ire and calling me the Jerk of the Year, her crying on the other hand…
“Let me deliver the cabinets this weekend, so at least you won’t have the storage fees tacked on, and I’ll talk to Mav about what we can do about a payment plan.”
A big sigh of relief left her body as she gushed, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I can’t promise anything.”
“But you’re willing to try, and I appreciate that more than you can know.”
I liked the idea of being the guy who saved the day for her. The idea of having to face Mav, not so much.
But the way she was smiling at me from across the table, I’d be willing to take my brother’s wrath.
“I can bring a load over tonight after Brayden’s game, then maybe we could grab a bite to eat?”
Gretchen cocked her head at me. “Like a date?”
“I mean, if you want to label it, yeah, like a date.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I got an uneasy feeling I wasn’t going to like her response.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Before I could ask her why not, she continued, “We agreed last night was a one-time thing. You said so yourself you’re not looking for a relationship. I feel like if we went on a date, my heart might get the wrong idea.”
Yeah, mine too.
Yet, I still wanted to see her again. Consequences be damned.
“How about this? Instead of looking at it as a date, we just consider it a continuation of last night. Instead of one night, it’s one weekend?”
She took a bite of her pancake stack and chewed slowly as she contemplated my offer.
When she swallowed, I braced myself for her reply. But instead of answering me, she took a swig of her orange juice.
You’re killing me, woman!
Finally, she said, “Okay, but how about I make dinner instead of us going out?”
“Deal,” I blurted out, not wanting to give her an opportunity to change her mind. “I’ll be at your house about six.”
“I can have dinner ready by six-thirty. Will that give you enough time to unload the cabinets, or should I plan on seven?”
“Six-thirty is perfect.”
For the first time in a long time, I had something to look forward to other than spending time with my kids or going to work.
