Her door was open and with a light knock, he headed in, closing the door behind him. Sage, on a call, waved at him, and he took his usual chair over in the conversation area of her office.
They’d established a routine. Knew each other’s expectations.
It was nice.
In a black, slim-fitting, above-the-knee skirt, tight white tank and short black jacket, she came over to join him.
He didn’t react.
A definite sign of successful wall building.
Of recovery.
Holding up the folder he’d carried in, the house sale papers she’d requested him to bring, he asked, “Which do you want to do first?”
She’d brought a pile of folders over with her.
“The house.” She didn’t even hesitate on that one. Held out a hand. Their fingers brushed as he passed it over. And...he didn’t get hard.
She’d become only a friend. No more heightened senses around her. No more tension as he worked hard to be everything she needed. To get every bit of everything right.
And no more open door to sexual memories, either.
He watched her pore over the pages, was fond of the focused look on her face as she read every word of a very standard, very boring real estate contract. And then copies of title papers that he’d be signing as soon as he left her.
The tip of her tongue snuck out to lick her bottom lip. He noticed. Stared at it for the second it took him to realize he was doing it and stop.
And he didn’t get hard.
She read the last page, nodded and said exactly what he’d expected her to say. “Everything looks good.”
He nodded. Not surprised. But pleased to have her expert opinion just the same. He had hundreds of thousands of dollars on the line. Even after all his years of success, he didn’t feel the wealth lightly.
Putting the pages back in the folder, Sage didn’t hand it back to him as he’d expected. Half sitting forward to take it from her, he watched her put the folder on her lap, her hands clasped over it, and sat back.
Was something wrong? Making her hesitate? He didn’t ask. If there was a problem, he didn’t have to pull it forward. It would find him.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Gray?”
The compassion in her expression as she met his gaze hit him hard. He hadn’t been expecting it. “You think it’s a bad move?” He was pretty good with numbers...and getting more than market price on a cash deal.
“Not financially,” she said. “Of course not. You come way out on top here. It’s just that...” She glanced away, and then back. Taking him back.
To that damned surfboard.
Which couldn’t be happening.
But he’d seen the look before. The time he’d told her he’d sold the board for the earrings. He hadn’t thought about that transaction in a decade, and suddenly it was there twice in a week?
“This house...it’s everything you always wanted, Gray. Your dream home. And it’s not like they’re a dime a dozen around here. Obviously. Based on what the new owners are willing to pay to get it. I just hate to see you give it up.”
He opened his mouth to speak. Stopped the words that were about to come out because he’d be mirroring a scene from a lifetime on the other side of the wall.
“I’m pretty sure we’re going to be able to get you that income fund, Gray. The deposits all line up exactly, as you’d said they would. We’ve already talked to the judge. A hearing is scheduled, which is part of what I have to talk to you about today.” She nodded toward the much larger pile of file folders on the table in front of her. “You don’t have to do this.”
Maybe not in her world. In his...he didn’t have his account back yet. His own fault for leaving the money in the corporation at all. And Gray didn’t live on hopes and probablys. “If I renege on this offer, I might not get another one as sweet,” he said. And then, feeling cornered, finished with the blast from the past. “I just don’t have an attachment to things, Sage. If I need another house on a cliff over the ocean, I’ll find it. And pay what I have to pay to get it.”
He knew, even before he’d finished, that he should have kept his mouth shut.
