“Yeah. See ya.”
Noah hung up thinking about how he was turning into exactly what he didn’t want to be: his father. Unappreciative of his employees, always wanting more, not being grateful for what he had right at his feet. “It stops now.”
He had a house to make into a home, contractors to set up, ideas to see through. Starting with the house next door.
He nearly slammed the brakes when he pulled into his driveway and saw a rusty old truck sitting in the drive next door. It was piled high with a dresser, a bed frame, a covered mattress, and other odds and ends. His heart hammered so hard he wondered if it could break his rib cage.
“Are you kidding me?” He makes a vow to get this property and the owner moves intoday?
He got out of his truck, locked it, and walked next door, across the small lawn at the end of their shared fence.
The man leaning on the truck looked old enough to be his grandfather. There was no way this man was going to be able to lug that bed and dresser into the house. He looked like he might pass out.
“Hey, there. You the neighbor?” the old guy asked, the weight of his body slumped against the edge of a rust spot.
“I guess so. I didn’t think anyone was going to move into thisplace,” Noah said, pulling out the smile he reserved for pushing a deal in the direction he wanted it to go.
The old guy pulled an actual handkerchief out of his jeans pocket and mopped his forehead. “Me neither, boy. Me neither.”
Noah’s senses prickled. Everyone had a price. He didn’t want to be his father, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t learned from him.
“I was actually trying to contact the owner,” Noah said.
The guy pushed off the truck, attempting to straighten his naturally curved shoulders. “Oh yeah?”
Interest? Noah smiled. “Yeah. I’d be interested in buying the place from you at a more than fair price. Above market value.”
The guy’s furry brows moved together, a gray caterpillar over suspicious grayish-blue eyes. “Why’s that?”
Noah pointed to his place. “I’m looking to settle in. I like it here but I need more land than I have.”
The old guy shook his head. “Kids these days always want more than they got.”
Doing his best not to frown, Noah put both hands in his pockets, holding the man’s gaze. “Just looking to improve what I already have, is all. You’d make a great profit. Everyone wins.”
“Except me,” a voice said from his left.
Noah’s gaze landed on the woman who’d hovered at the back of his thoughts all day, standing with her hands on her gorgeously curvy hips, giving him a cutting glare.
“It’s you,” he said.
She tipped her head and he had the pleasure of watching the recognition roll over her features. She sucked in a sharp breath.
“You know this guy? He wants to buy your house,” the old man said.
She looked at the old guy, frowned even deeper, and put a hand on his arm. “You should sit down. Go inside for goodness’ sakes. Hugo will be here soon.”
“Name’s Morty. Good luck convincing her. She’s as stubborn as you are pretty,” the guy said to Noah.
Noah’s jaw dropped at the very odd exchange and watched the man—Morty—limp toward the house.
“Your… dad?” Noah asked, looking down at the woman watching him. Jesus. She had a pair of eyes on her that lit his insides up like fire. Which was not helpful, considering she had what he wanted. What heneeded.It felt like it’d been so long since he’d made a deal that gave him the energy-spiking adrenaline he craved.
“No. Good friend,” she said.
Noah arched his brow, waiting for her to explain, but she didn’t. “I’m Noah Jansen. You’re the dog walker.”
Her lips quirked. “That and more. I’m Grace.”
