She takes a deep breath. “I accept your offer on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“I want to have the final say in whoever buys the house.”
I scoff. “Why? So you can make it impossible for anyone to buy it?”
She can’t even look me in the eyes, which only adds to the hollowness in my chest.
“Because I want to make sure whoever owns it next loves my home as much as I do.”
I instantly feel like a dick for thinking the worst about her. “Lana—”
Her nostrils flare. “Yes or no, Callahan?”
And now we’re back to Callahan.
Lovely.
I nod. “You get the final say, so long as you’re not vetoing potential buyers for no good reason.”
Hopefully I don’t end up regretting my choice.
***
Lana
I’m starting to wonder if you have a shopping addiction.
She sends me a photo of a box waiting on the porch. I bolt off the couch, scaring Merlin, who wiggles his way underneath the TV stand.
Be there in a few.
My excitement grows with each step I take across the property toward the main house.
Lana stands on the porch, waving at the red-headed mailman as he drives off.
I walk up the steps. “Do you know him?”
“Ernie? Yeah. He’s Isabelle’s son.”
My brows rise. “I’m surprised my packages have arrive undamaged then.”
“Me too. He’s not too happy with you given the thirty packages delivered here in the last few days alone.”
“This is the best one yet.” I lift the heavy box into my arms.
She peeks at the cardboard box. “What is it?”
“A Kees van der Westen Speedster.”
Her brows pull together.
“It’s an espresso machine,” I clarify. Caffeine, Adderall, and I don’t usually mix well. But now that I’m working until late, long after my medicine wears off, I need a little pick-me-up in the afternoons.
She snorts. “Sounds like the name of a car.”
“And costs about the same as a cheap one too.” I give the box a loving pat.