She spread the dishcloth over the oven handle to dry, then turned to face him, her back against the counter.
"Do you remember the Garcias? Manuel Garcia's son was one of the kids at that party you investigated."
"Yeah, I remember him." Terry crossed his arms, waiting.
Sandra explained her work reviewing contracts for Manuel and several other clients, then launched into the story of what had happened with Mrs. Patterson. As she talked, Terry found himself paying closer attention to the details… the significant price discrepancy, Manuel's distress, the homeowner's accusations.
"It could be simple financial errors," Sandra concluded. "Or it could be fraud."
Terry felt something click into place. "It just so happens that I've had to deal with Harrison Blackwood recently too. He owns the rental house where that party happened."
Sandra's eyes widened as her chin jerked back. "Really?"
"Yeah. The house is registered to Blackwood Luxury Custom Homes as a corporate property. I have to admit, that place was absolutely gorgeous. And the views of the bay? Incredible."
Sandra's expression shifted to something playful. "Well, if you suddenly find a couple of million dollars for a custom home, let me know. I'm sure you can have him build it, and I'll sneak in an extra bedroom for myself."
Terry stepped closer, placing his hands on either side of her on the counter, leaning in until they were almost nose to nose. "Who the hell says you'll need a separate bedroom?"
Color rose in Sandra's cheeks, but she placed her palms flat against his chest. "I just don't want to rush anything."
He grinned, enjoying the way her breath caught when he was this close. "I'll be sure to let you know if I get a windfall of over a million dollars."
She tilted her head to the side, her smile looking like she was holding back laughter. "What would you do with a home that big?"
"For one thing, I'd have my own gym."
"Gym?" Her chin jerked slightly in surprise. "Why would you want a gym in your home?"
"So I can do whatever workout I want without having to wait for someone else to finish or trust that they're going to wipe down the equipment afterward."
"Oh." She looked genuinely thoughtful. "I never considered that."
"You go to the YMCA, which, by the way, the kids loved, so it looks like I need to use them more often besides just their gym equipment and the kids’ swim lessons."
"I go to swim laps and use the stationary bike or treadmill. I don't really use the other exercise equipment."
"Well, if I had a home gym, then you could have all of those things without having to wait on anyone."
She slid her hands from his chest around his waist and pulled him closer. "Are you saying I would have access to your home gym? No membership fees?"
"Well"—he grinned—"I might charge you in kisses. How would that payment plan work for you?"
She lifted onto her toes and sealed her lips over his. "I think I could handle those terms." Then she dug her fingers into his sides, making him jerk and laugh.
"Anyway," he continued once he caught his breath, "you didn't say what you'd want in your million-dollar luxury custom home."
"I love my little house, but the kitchen is tiny. So I'd want a really big kitchen with lots of counter space and maybe an island."
Terry glanced around his own kitchen and grinned. "Mine's bigger than yours."
Sandra snorted, then dropped her chin and let her forehead rest against his chest. "I think our attempts at flirting and our terrible puns are getting completely intertwined. And I'm not sure either one is very good."
Terry loved the sound of her laughter echoing in his home. He kissed the top of her head, then linked their hands together. "So other than the fact that Harrison Blackwood builds luxury homes, what are you going to do about him and Mr. Garcia?"
"I'm going to talk to him about these discrepancies." She shrugged. "I guess I think he's slick, but not slimy."
Terry barked out a laugh and shook his head. "I've never heard that distinction before."
