Two bedrooms, both with big windows and bad tile flooring with wretched old grout. A tiny office that would be adorable with the right light fixture and several coats of fresh paint. A laundry room that needed…prayer.
But thatview. That impossible gorgeousness could be seen from every window that looked across the beach road and straight to the sand and sea.
“This is really something,” Tessa said, her heart pinging against her ribs. “But…I definitely can’t afford this.”
Lorna didn’t argue, just smiled. “The upstairs is almost an exact replica, though there’s carpet, which is heinous, and no laundry, but a second bathroom. The stairs are here, behind this door.”
She urged her toward a closed door in the kitchen.
“I can’t look at any more,” Tessa said, holding back as Lorna opened the door. “There’s no way?—”
“I can’t afford this, Lorna.” A muffled and familiar masculine voice finished her sentence, accompanied by footfalls on stairs.
Tessa froze.
Dusty stepped through the doorway, phone in one hand, a skeptical expression on his face that melted instantly into shock.
They stared at each other.
Tessa’s heart stopped. Or maybe stuttered. Possibly did a full-on backflip.
“Hi,” she said, because her brain had been replaced with tapioca pudding.
“Hey,” he said, equally dazed.
“I…I didn’t see your truck.”
“She told me to park across the street in the beach lot.”
They both turned to Lorna who gave a playful cringe-face. “Yeah, I, uh…did that. But doesn’t it make sense?”
Absolutely nothing made sense right then, especially not the presence of a man Tessa hadn’t stopped thinking about since they said goodbye. Certainly not the splash of attraction and longing and sheer happiness at the sight of him—that made zero sense.
“You’re having us bid against each other?” Tessa asked, stepping back to let Dusty into the kitchen. “Because you will have multiple offers on this place.”
He just looked confused and pointed toward the upstairs. “Are these…two different listings?” Dusty asked.
Lorna shook her head, looking entirely too conspiratorial and maybe a little delighted with herself.
“It’s one property,” she said. “Two units—upper and lower that can be lived in, rented, renovated, shared, invested, whatever. But the owner only wants to sell to a single buyer, with one contract, one bank mortgage, and a thirty-day close if possible. That’s why it’s not on the market yet.”
They both stared at her, no doubt reciting the same questions—who, when, why, andhow much? But they were silent, waiting for more.
“Youcanafford it,” she said to both of them. “Ifyou buy it together. It’ll be at the high end of each of your budgets, but it’s entirely doable as a co-purchase.”
“A co…”
“What?”
“Just hear me out,” Lorna said, holding up two hands. “I mean, you don’t have to be related or married or anything like that. Just buy it together, with both names on the contract, and one loan from the bank. You can have separate living quarters—well, you’ll share the laundry. But won’t that make wash day more fun?”
They stayed slack-jawed and silent.
“Okay, well, it’s totally possible, doable, and if you don’t buy this property, you are out of your minds,” Lorna finished. “I’ll let you look some more, walk around, discuss. Oh, here’s the price.”
She held out a listing sheet and both of them stared at the upper right corner. Yes, theycoulddo that…together.
Lorna pivoted and headed toward the door and slid on her sandals. “Take your time. I’m going to make some calls, and I really hope one of them can be to the listing agent, who has agreed to cut her commission if I can get an offer in today.”
