"Something like that." And then, Brody surprised me by revealing that he had a real thing for historic homes, fixing them up, restoring them to their original glory.
Listening, I was surprised not only by what he was saying, but that he was saying it at all.
I found myself nodding in agreement when he launched into a long tirade of how people were too quick to tear things down, rather than fix them up.
And just when I was beginning to conclude that he might not betooterrible, I recalled how all of this had started. "Hey, wait a minute," I said. "Does this mean youneverconsidered tearing down the house?"
"Not for a minute," he said. "It would've been a crying shame."
Even though I agreed, I couldn’t resist saying, "Yeah, but speaking of shame, don't you feel bad for telling me otherwise?"
"I didn'ttellyou anything," he said. "You assumed."
"Yeah, but youletme assume it."
"Well maybe I get funny when people break into my house."
My stomach sank.Hishouse. Not mine.As if I needed the reminder.
Still, I protested, "I didn't break in. I had a key."
With a half shrug, he replied, "It's still my house."
For now? Or forever?Bracing myself, I asked, "So, are you planning to keep it?"
He was silent for a long moment. And when he finally spoke, his answer was entirely unsatisfying. "Don't ask."
Chapter 29
Brody
Next to me, her pace slowed. "Don’t ask?" she said. "What doesthatmean?"
"It means what I said. Don't ask."
She gave me a subtle sideways glance. She did that a lot. She thought that I didn't notice. But I did, just like I'd noticed how her eyes had lit up when I'd mentioned fixing up old houses – and how those same eyes hadn't glazed over when I'd gone deeper into the details.
The crazy thing was, she'd looked genuinely interested – which probably explained why I'd told her more than I'd planned.
Funny, I hadn't planned to tell her anything at all.
But she had this way of getting under my skin, of making me say more than I wanted – and making me think things that were best unthought.
Like right now, I was thinking how sweet she looked with the morning breeze lifting the ends of her long hair and how the flush of her cheeks made me want to smile – although hell if I knew why.
"But about the house," she said, "you're either planning to keep it, or you're not."
"Yeah, so?"
"So why won't you tell me? Is it because you really don't know? Or because you don't want to say?"
Ihadbeen thinking of keeping the house – not as a rental, and not as a vacation spot either, but as my own personal residence.
I liked my condo well enough. It was big, luxurious, and right on the river. Even so, it had never felt like home.
Come to think of it, no place had felt like home – or at least not in a long while. But there was something aboutthisplace that made me think otherwise. Maybe it was the full package – the beach, the view, the architecture, and yeah, maybe Arden Weathers, too.
So, why was I being such a dick about it?
