He heard a whispered, “Goodnight,” as he made his way through the living room and up the stairs. His hand slid across the mahogany wood. At least he had his home. Blood, sweat and cash made it all happen.
Jonah would never win “Parent of the Year,” but he’d done his best.
Sometimes, that was worth more than any award.
Chapter Five
“This can’t be it.”
Right?
Roxanne eased up on the gas pedal as she came to the end of the street. She eyed the house, the number on the mailbox, and scanned the neighborhood. According to her GPS, she’d arrived at her destination. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She pulled in front of the last house on the cul-de-sac.
She shut down the engine and got out of the car, surveying her surroundings. It was something out of a movie. A tree-lined street in a quiet residential neighborhood. Most of the houses had a similar style. Cord’s stood out all on its own. She rounded her bumper heading up the paved walkway. The only car in the driveway was an old green beat-up hotrod. Definitely not the car from the accident. She eyed the detached garage, wondering if the car in question was hidden away in there.
Roxanne brought her attention back to the house. The wraparound porch reminded her of her childhood home, but more upscale. She walked up the stairs, admiring the railing, brushing her palm across the smooth surface. The finish had so much detail as if it were hand-crafted. It was grandiose in an almost subtle way. She peeked over at the far end of the porch.
It was bare of any decoration or furniture.Such a shame.It’d be the perfect spot for a set of rocking chairs with a small table wedged between them. She followed the line of the roof. Hanging plants would add the perfect touch for ambiance. Ferns were sturdy and strong to withstand the Texas heat in thesummer. Though the house was in dire need of color accents. Maybe marigolds instead of ferns?
What am I doing?
Roxanne shook her head, turning toward the front door. She’d gotten distracted and needed to stay focused. The only thing she was interested in was tracking down Cord and getting the money for the repairs.And he will pay!Twelve hundred dollars wouldn’t be a huge hit to her bank account, but it was the principle. He’d hit her, fed her a bullshit story that played on her compassion and convinced her not to go through insurance. Of everything she’d listed, his sob story had specifically pissed her off the most. She trusted him and gave a stranger the benefit of the doubt.
Sucker.
Roxanne rang the doorbell, retreated a few steps and eyed the welcome mat. At least that was what she assumed it once said. The only visible letters were the w, half a c and an e. Roxanne leaned past the door, peeking into the side window. With the etched glass, she couldn’t make out much. And there was no sign of movement. It was almost eerie how quiet it was. She glanced back at the street. It was a nice neighborhood, but there was no one in sight.
An unsavory twist knotted in her stomach. She was about to confront a guy with no backup if the situation turned hostile. She hadn’t considered that prospect on her drive over. Roxanne rocked on her heels, wondering if maybe she should’ve taken Stone up on his offer to come with her.
No. She was an adult. It would be fine. Hell, even Bogs, who tended to be a little overprotective, had her back when she insisted on going alone. Though she couldn’t quite shake the odd feeling she had about having his support in this situation. He seemed very eager for her to venture to a stranger's house by herself.Weird.
Roxanne rolled her shoulders, inhaling a deep breath.I can do this on my own. Independence was something Roxanne had in abundance. She leaned forward, opting to knock on the door instead of ringing the bell again.
The door flew open seconds later and she was met with a guy who definitely wasn’t Cord, though they shared similar features. He was tall with a lanky build and a messy mop of blond hair falling around his eyes. Calling him a guy might’ve been a stretch. Boy would’ve been a more accurate assessment. Sixteen, seventeen, maybe.
He didn’t say a word. No type of greeting. He was too busy ogling her. The corner of his mouth curled as his eyes slid down her body, landing and perusing a bit too long on her breasts. His mouth crept into a full-fledged grin. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.Teenage boys.
“Eyes up here, buddy.” She snapped her fingers, and his gaze darted up. His cheeks shaded to a deep pink, and she bit back her smile.
“Hi.” Roxanne wiggled her fingers in a short wave.
His eyes widened, and he shifted on his bare feet, gripping the doorknob in a tight hold. He lifted his chin in what should’ve been a simple move to pull off. Not for this kid. He was trying way too hard to seem unaffected.
“Uh, hey.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, hi.” His eyes once again dropped to her breasts, but he seemed to catch himself and quickly return to her stare.
This wasn’t the first, or second, or even the hundredth time she’d been standing in a situation similar to this one. She was by no means, the most beautiful woman on the planet. But she owned a mirror. She knew her beauty, as all women should. However, this whole scene was slightly absurd.
Black hair, blue eyes and breasts. There are a million of us out there. Pull it together, kid.
She drew in a breath, smiling. “Is Cord here?”
She knew he heard her, but he remained in a semi-awkward daze. Now, she was wholeheartedly regretting her decision to come on her own. The boy might not pose any threat, but getting his eyes off her body and actually engaging in some semblance of conversation might be a hell of a lot easier if she had Stone standing next to her.
Ah, teenage boys.
“Sweetheart?”
He blinked, white-knuckling the doorknob. “Yeah?”
