“You have good taste, Maeve.”
“Of course, I do. Good night.”
“‘Night.”
“Why don’t you come inside and I’ll make you breakfast?” I ask Hunter the next morning. He’s just pulled up in front of my house, and it’s only mid-morning. “I didn’t eat anything this morning.”
“No room service?”
“Just coffee,” I admit. “Come on. I make a mean omelet.”
We climb out of his car, and I walk ahead of him to my front door, unlock it, and then walk inside.
“I like your house,” he says.
“I do, too. I’ll give you a quick tour.” I lead him up the stairs. “It’s a small, historic home. Built in 1922, it’s only twelve hundred square feet. Three bedrooms, two baths.”
I give him some of the particulars and show him my favorite spots. My office. My reading space. And then we end up downstairs in my kitchen.
“The people who owned it before me did all the upgrades, which is awesome. I’m not a fan of construction. It’s been a good home.”
“But not your forever home,” he says as I gather all of the ingredients for our breakfast from the fridge. He sits on a stool at the island and watches me. When he leans on his elbows and his arm muscles flex, I have to take a quick breath.
Good God, his muscles do things to me.
“No,” I say and swallow hard. “I’d like to be on the water. It reminds me of Ireland.”
“Really?”
“Yes. My family is from the west coast of Ireland, in a little village near Galway. So, I’m drawn to the sea. I just feel…at peace there. I’ll end up there eventually. In the meantime, this house suits me.”
I dice up some mushrooms, toss them into a bowl, and then reach for a red bell pepper.
“Oh, speaking of houses, let me check my email.” I open the laptop sitting on the counter and tap some keys. Sure enough, there’s an email waiting for me. “Just as I thought, they accepted your offer. Congratulations.”
He smiles, but then the light leaves his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I feel like a dick for stealing the house out from under you.”
“If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else. I promise.” I shrug a shoulder. “Be happy about this. I’m happy for you. It’s a great spot.”
“You’re so calm about it today.”
“Yeah. I got over it.” I crack some eggs into a bowl for whisking.
“How soon do you think we can move in?”
“Well, I have to call the current owners’ realtor, but I suspect it could happen quickly.” I explain to him about the couple already being gone. “We just need an inspection and the title company to push things through.”
“Do you think I can move in sooner? Sort of rent it from them until the particulars are straightened out?”
“You really are in a hurry.”
“I have several reasons for wanting to be here quickly.” His eyes smolder as they fix on me, and I feel myself flush as I would have as a teenager.
“I think we can probably work something out.”
“Great, I’ll start calling movers today.”
I heat a pan on the stove, drop the eggs in, and then work quickly to make the omelet perfect. When I slide it onto a plate and pass it to Hunter, he grins.
“You’re gorgeous, and you cook?”
“A woman of many talents.” I wink at him and get to work on another omelet. My phone rings, and I quickly grab it to answer.
“Maggie? Are you okay?” I put the phone on speaker so Hunter can hear.
“He wasn’t a serial killer,” she replies. “But he’s also not my soul mate.”
“I mean, maybe your expectations are a little high,” I suggest and toss some veggies in with my eggs. “You were going for soul mate on your first date?”
“It’s a figure of speech. He’s not for me. But that’s okay, it was just breakfast. I didn’t give him a blow job in the parking lot or anything.”
Hunter sputters on his coffee, and I can’t help but giggle.
“Wait, who’s there?”
“I’m making breakfast for Hunter,” I inform her. “I should have said you were on speaker.”
“Well, at least I didn’t say that I did give Eddie a blow job. That would have been more embarrassing. Okay, have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Later.”
I click off and grin over at Hunter. “Never a dull moment.”
“I’d like to discuss this blow job in the parking lot option.”
I bark out a laugh. “No way. I’m more of a blow job at home kind of girl.”
His brown eyes narrow, but they’re full of humor and fun. “That works, too.”
“Eat your omelet.”
I’m in a mood.
My hot water heater gave up the ghost this morning, so I had to take a cold shower. Added to that, my garbage disposal also decided to die on me after I’d already put half an onion down there. Now, my kitchen smells like a back alley.