The doors of the other two bedrooms could only open about a foot. Enough to get an arm in, but no more than that.
It was only once he stepped back outside that Jake realized howstrongthe smell was inside the house. Some combination of dust and mildew and the faintest bit of cleaning chemicals. No pet smells or food rot, at least. But striking.
“Let’s keep this train moving.” Ozzy gestured toward the fence gate off to the side. “We’ll see what we can do.”
Bunny followed behind him and they muttered to each other, pointing at different parts of the landscaping. Jake took two steps, caught his foot on a thick root, and face-planted straight into a foot of grass. His nose throbbed as he pushed back up to his feet.
“You good?” Ozzy stood inside the open gate, looking back at him.
“Good. Just tripped. There’s some tree roots coming up through the ground here. Just so you know when you’re planning.”
He rolled his eyes. “Great. That’s not going to be annoying at all.” He rapped his knuckles on the fence, then headed in, and Jake jogged behind to catch up, keeping a much more careful eye on his surroundings while also examining the exterior of the house for any obvious issues. Nothing jumped out at him, which was a relief, but not a shock. Part of getting ready to film had been bringing out an inspector to make sure it was actually a safe place to walk into, that it didn’t need to just be bulldozed.
When he came stepped into the back yard, Jake cringed. The entire rear half of the fence had fallen in, leaving only two posts still standing and the boards scattered around. There was a shed in one corner, or at least what was left of it. And bigger than just about anything, the back deck had apparentlyburnedat some point, and the previous owner hadn’t been able to fix it up or tear it down or anything. “I feel like some important information was missing from the report.”
“You think?” Ozzy shook his head, stepping back over to stand next to Jake. “They probably want honest reactions or some bullshit when we talk to the new owner. Sensationalizing the death of his grandfather. Glad we’re on board for this.” He scoffed, patted Jake on the shoulder, then headed back to keep checking the yard.
Jake was pretty sure he was right, however.
Chapter three
Quinn
The meeting room atthe Hillyard Hotel certainly served its purpose, however boring it may have been. Not exactly Quinn’s style—too beige, and furniture very much out of the bargain bin—but he didn’t have to pay for it. Hell, he didn’t have to pay for any of this. Homescapes TV was footing the entire bill. For this meeting, for the house, and for the meeting space any time they needed to use it. He could have gotten a small payment if he agreed to meet in his current apartment, but his studio wasn’t exactly a good fit for him, a seven-person renovation crew, and everyone involved in production. Not if they also wanted to, like, breathe. The odd fifty bucks here and there wouldn’t have made much of a difference anyway.
Quinn nodded to the twitchy young man currently across the ovular table from him. “So how far ahead did they send you?”
“Oh, just twenty minutes.” He glanced down at his phone and nodded, pasting on a fake smile. “I’m sure they’re almost here.”
“I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re thinking. You guys are doing me a big service. I just feel bad that you’re stuck with the shitty job, babysitting me in a hotel meeting room.”
“Oh, no. I’m not worried about that.”
Before he could say anything else, a figure appeared in the doorway and Quinnstared.Even as he did it, he knew it was rude, and certainly not subtle, but his eyes wouldn’t unglue from the man walking in. A wave of blond hair swept back from his head, showing off plenty of tanned skin, and a strong jaw, bearing the slightest hint of stubble. His navy T-shirt hugged tight across his chest and shoulders, and as he shifted his grip on the bag hanging off one shoulder, the hem of his shirt rose up. Soof courseQuinn looked at the peek of a treasure trail coming through, all downy and soft and inviting—
“You must be Quinn.” The guy extended his hand, scarred and pocked, the nails trimmed down to almost nothing. “I’m Jake Rasmussen. The others are right behind.”
“Hi.” Quinn swallowed and, after what felt like an eternity, took the outstretched hand. “Yeah. I’m Quinn. Benson. Quinn Benson. You’re…part of the crew?”
“Carpenter. Handling wood is my specialty.” He wiggled his eyebrows, then laughed at his own joke, full-mouthed and not ashamed at all. “Tell me to lay off the wood innuendos and I will. Otherwise, they’ll just keep coming.” He cringed, shaking his head. “Pun not intended that time.”
Make all the innuendos you want.Some of the shock had worn off, but even as more people piled into the room and took their seats around the table, Quinn found his gaze constantly flicking back to Jake. He settled a couple chairs away, immediately tipping onto the back two legs, and nearly fell over,then caught himself on the edge and flashed a smile to Quinn…then continued to tilt backward.
And for the life of him, Quinn couldn’t help but find that utterly charming.
After everyone had been introduced and they got the camera set up and recording, Mason spread his hands out over some papers, then looked at Quinn. “So, we have some of the story. You were raised by your grandparents, and after your grandmother passed away, your grandpa got into a bit of a shopping frenzy. Then he got sick too and he couldn’t take care of the house.”
Jumping right in.A few beats of silence passed as Quinn tried to put himself back together. He hadn’t expected to have it laid out like that. “Yeah. Yeah.” He flicked his thumbnails off each other, looking at the table instead of around the room. “Both of them were always sort of packrats. It got really bad after grandma died, though. He wouldn’t donate or sell any of her stuff, and he stopped going out nearly as much. Just ordered stuff online all the time. I tried to help him clean up a few times, and I helped after the fire, but it was…a lot.” He felt the familiar prickle behind his eyes and stiffened his back. He was looking up, but not making eye contact. “I didn’t know how bad it really was until after he died. He never wanted me to go upstairs after I moved out. Now I know why.”
Jake leaned around, and when Quinn caught even a hint of his deep blue eyes, his gaze was drawn straight to them in spite of himself. When Jake spoke, his voice was a soft rumble. “What was the story with the fire?”
Quinn blew out a long breath. “I don’t know exactly. He kept a lot of stuff stored out there. I think it was one of the cans of lighter fluid for the grill, but…it was just lucky I was coming over anyway when it happened. I called 911 and grabbed a fire extinguisher. Tried to move back in with him after that, but hegot so mad I dropped it.” The prickle again. Quinn didn’t talk about his grandpa much. Didn’t have that many friends around Springfield, and his online friends…they tried to keep things lighter with each other. “I was looking into moving him to a hospice, but we ran out of time for that.”
Mason nodded. “And he left the house to you.”
“Right. Didn’t have anyone else in the family.” Quinn swallowed hard. “I haven’t gone over there since he passed. Seems like too much. So I applied once I saw that your show was looking for people. And I’m just hoping it can be livable again. Or if it needs tearing down, you can tell me as much.”
“I don’t think we’re looking at demolition.” Jake was still leaning over so he could hold eye contact. And he lowered his voice as well. “If you need a break to collect yourself, we all get it.”
