“All of it,” Tristan said, gesturing lazily towards the house before adding, “This deal.”
“I didn’t really have a choice,” Quinn said as he stepped over the remains of the walkway and made his way to the house.
“You could have waited and bought B.T. Construction,” Tristan said as they both hunched down and ran their fingertips over the cracked mortar sealing the stone foundation.
“That wasn’t really an option anymore,” Quinn said, pulling the flathead screwdriver out of his back pocket and ran it along the mortar, watching as the old limestone mortar crumbled before falling to the ground.
“Brooke’s not engaged yet,” Tristan pointed out as they pulled on the rock to see if they could pull it free, only to move on when it didn’t budge.
“No, but for all of her faults, Brooke isn’t dumb. She wouldn’t overplay her hand, not for something like this. If anything, she’s probably two steps ahead,” Quinn said as they made their way around the house, checking the corners, looking for bulges, testing rocks, and looking for any leaks or signs of standing water.
“Unless she’s trying to buy herself more time by making you believe that it’s pointless to try,” Tristan drawled as they made their way back to the front of the house.
“What’s the other thing?” Quinn asked as he climbed onto what was left of the front porch, careful of the rotted boards caving in.
“How the hell did you not know what Dylan was up to?” Tristan asked as he joined him.
“She’s always up to something,” Quinn said, even as he couldn’t help but wonder how she’d pulled this off without anyone finding out.
“You watch her like a hawk,” Tristan pointed out as they grabbed hold of the piece of plywood covering the door and pulled it free, taking the nails that secured it to the house along with it.
“Because she’s a pain in the ass,” Quinn said as they set the plywood aside and-
“And yet, you married her,” Tristan said, sounding really fucking amused.
“Didn’t have a choice,” Quinn said as he glanced back at the door and sighed when he found what was left of it on the foyer floor.
“You could have taken Jenn up on her offer,” Tristan drawled as they stepped into the house.
“And I could always shove you head-first into oncoming traffic,” Quinn pointed out, making the bastard chuckle as they took in what was left of the foyer and the staircase and-
He was going to spank her ass, Quinn decided as he took in the ladder leaning against what was left of the second-floor banister with the words “B.T. Construction” written on the side, leaving no doubt in his mind who put it there. He ran his eyes over the broken banister and the chunk missing from the second-floor landing before he glanced down at the floor and thought his jaw was going to break when he spotted the holes where the ladder broke through the floorboards.
“True,” Tristan murmured absently as they took in what was left of the foyer, noting everything from the holes in the ceiling above them to the ones in the walls, the floors, the rotted boards, what looked like a hundred years’ worth of water stains, the staircase that had caved in years ago, and once again, found himself wondering what the hell she’d been thinking when she bought this place.
“You’re not worried about this biting you in the ass?” Tristan asked as Quinn made his way to the wall running down the middle of the house and decided to get this over with.
“Not even a little fucking bit,” Quinn said as he slammed the crowbar through the wall because he’d made sure the curse couldn’t fuck him over.
For the curse to work, he needed to fall head over heels in love with his neighbor to the point where he wasn’t able to think straight and was willing to risk a felony charge just to marry her and that was never going to happen.
Not with Dylan.
She was…
The pain in the ass that he’d spent the majority of his life rescuing, but she was also safe because he would never allow himself to want more from her. He wanted her. Christ, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t, but she was also the only one he trusted to make this deal. He would never take this risk with another woman and being fucked over again. Dylan would never make him lose his fucking mind. She would never try to play games with him or try to wrap him around her little finger simply because she preferred to fuck him over for her own entertainment.
That, and they weren’t neighbors.
This was a deal, nothing more and he’d made sure that it stayed that way by breaking all the rules that normally fucked Bradfords over. While he hadn’t exactly proposed, he also didn’tkidnap her and drag her across state lines into New Hampshire and in front of a terrified Justice of the Peace. They’d arranged to meet at the courthouse this morning. They’d taken separate cars, filled out the paperwork and waited to be called, and once they were married, they’d left the same way.
He’d also moved his stuff into the in-law suite, leaving her with the run of the house. They were now roommates. Nothing more. She would be able to come and go and live her life and he would be able to do the same. The only time that he would have to step into the house from this point on was for their child.
He planned on living in the in-law suite for as long as it worked for them. When the time came for them to divorce, he would give her the house and make sure that she never wanted for anything. Other than that, they would go on as they always had, only catching glimpses of each other in passing.
And for those times that they needed to have sex…
He wasn’t going to overthink it.
