CHAPTERTWO
Lucas
Ithrow my bag over my shoulder and raise my hand in a wave as I walk out of the firehouse. After four back-to-back shifts, I’m more than ready for my rest days. I walk across the parking lot and climb into my truck, tossing my bag on the back seat. It’s falling dark as I drive through town, and my stomach growls as I realize I haven’t eaten since lunch. There’s pizza and a cold beer with my name on it in my refrigerator at home. I’m looking forward to vegging on the sofa and doing nothing for the next few days.
I park in my driveway and climb out of the truck, reaching for my bag off the back seat. I’m surprised to see a moving truck parked next door. The place has been empty for months. My previous neighbor, Mrs. Marshall, passed away almost two years ago, and when the yard became overgrown and the house began to fall into disrepair, I tried to find out who was responsible for the place. It turns out it was her grandson—who lived in New York—who’d inherited her estate. I’d never seen him at the house before, but maybe it was him who was moving in. I’d be surprised, though. The house was barely livable when Mrs. Marshall was alive. I’d been in there a handful of times when she’d needed the occasional job doing, and from what I’d seen, it needed a complete remodel.
Locking the truck, I head inside and toss my keys onto the small table in the entryway. I go straight into the kitchen and open the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of Bud. I’m curious to see who it is that’s moving in, and taking a mouthful of my drink, I find myself at the living room window, looking out toward next door’s driveway. A woman walks out of the house, followed by a young boy. I frown as I watch them struggle to get a mattress out of the back of the truck. Someone surely can’t be moving in there with a child? Unless I’ve missed some major reworks on the house, it’s not fit for anyone to live in, let alone a family. My eyes flick to the house, expecting to see someone coming to help her. When no one does, I place the open bottle of Bud on the side table and make my way outside.
“Hey, do you need some help?” I shout as I jog across the driveway. The woman turns, and my breath catches in my throat when I see how beautiful she is. Stunning emerald-green eyes meet mine, and I find I can’t tear my gaze off her. Her long dark hair is piled up into a messy bun on the top of her head, with loose tendrils framing her face, and her cheeks are flushed pink from trying to move the mattress. She’s beautiful.
“Oh, hi. Erm… yeah, sure. If you don’t mind, that would be great,” she says.
“I don’t mind. Lucas Reed. I live next door.”
I move to the back of the truck and take the edge of the mattress from her. Bolts of electricity shoot through my hand as my fingers brush hers. I glance at her, wondering if she felt it too, but her expression tells me nothing. Pushing away my strange thoughts, I drag the mattress from the truck. She takes hold of the other end, and I walk backwards with her toward the house.
“I’m Melody, and this is Roman,” she says, gesturing with her head to the little boy following us. I smile at him and he smiles back shyly. I walk into the entryway and head for the stairs, but Melody stops me. “Oh, I actually need this in the living room.”
I raise my eyebrows in question.
“It turns out I’ve been catfished.”
“Catfished?” I ask in confusion.
She lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. Let’s just say the pictures of this place didn’t live up to the reality. I’ve only managed to clean down here so far. I need to tackle upstairs when Roman’s asleep.”
“I have to admit, I was surprised to see someone moving in. This place has been empty for a while, and it was run down when Mrs. Marshall lived here.”
“Who’s Mrs. Marshall?” she asks as I help her lay the mattress on the living room floor.
“The previous owner. She died almost two years ago.”
“Do you know the current owner? I’ve been trying to call him, but he’s not picking up.”
“No. Sorry. I’ve no idea who he is. All I know is he lives in New York.”
She sighs. “Great! I signed a six-month pre-paid lease with an elusive landlord for a house that doesn’t exist, because this place sure as hell isn’t what I was expecting. I don’t even have any running water downstairs.”
“The kitchen tap?” I ask, and she nods. “I can take a look. I’ve repaired it a few times for Mrs. Marshall. I tried to convince her to get a new one, but she never would.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking, I’m offering. You can’t be here with no running water in the kitchen.”
“I can call someone tomorrow. I don’t want to bother you with all my problems.”
“It’s no bother. I’ll come around in the morning and take a look. Do you need a hand getting anything else out of the truck?”
“No. I think we have everything we need for tonight. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Lucas.”
“Enjoy your camping,” I say to Roman with a wink. He jumps up and down excitedly.
With a chuckle, I leave them both in the living room and let myself out. I jog back across the street and grab my Bud from where I left it, then throw a pizza in the oven.