“If you have a house on Prospect, you go all out for the holidays. Everybody spends the weekend after Thanksgiving getting ready for all the traffic that drives by to see the decorations.” She pressed her forehead against the cold window glass, imagining twinkle lights lining the picture window and a cascade of pine and mistletoe gracing the front door. “Isn’t that nice?”
“It’s a Norman Rockwell nightmare.”
His reply was unapologetically horrified, and on instinct, she reached out and flicked a finger against his bicep. Even though it would barely have registered through all his winter layers, she froze, a nervous smile fixed on her face. They definitely didn’t have a touchy-feely relationship, and she’d probably made it weird.
But he just laughed and wrapped one of those workman’s hands around his upper arm. “Geez, killer. That’s some left hook.”
The pressure in her chest dissolved at the curl of lazy amusement in his voice. “Ha, sorry,” she said weakly. God, she hated when her natural exuberance went to war with her fear of rejection. But his grin assured her she’d worried for nothing yet again. Story of her life. She shrugged and returned to the topic. “After years of apartment living, the thought of being part of a community like that is intriguing.” Intriguing and a little scary actually. But there was no sense dwelling on whether she was brave enough to commit to a house before knowing if she could even afford the damn thing.
“So if the neighborhood is all about community, what causedthis?” Aiden gestured toward the property in front of them.
She sighed. Age hadn’t been kind to her house. The timber beams badly needed a coat or three of paint, and the gutters sagged drunkenly off the roofline in all directions, soggy leaves and tufts of birds’ nests sticking out haphazardly.
“Okay, you know Faith Fox?” Thea asked. “She graduated in my year.”
“Faith Fox…” He frowned in thought. “Tall, blond hair, blue streaks?”
She nodded, and he shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve seen her around.”
Of course. Good ol’ Thea never got a second glance from Aiden in high school or beyond, but he knew exactly whatthebrash, gorgeous Faith looked like.
“Well.” She cleared her throat and pressed forward. “Faith’s parents know half the people on the block, and apparently the owner moved into assisted care about fifteen years ago. Mrs. Rebhetz’s family tried it as a rental property for a little bit but got tired of the maintenance, so it sat empty until she died last winter.”
She fought back a wave of sadness. Doris Rebhetz had loved this house and lavished it with care until she wasn’t able to anymore. Now more than anything, Thea wanted to be the person to set the house to rights and make it a beloved home once more, even if it required the biggest commitment she’d ever made.
“That’s a shame.” Aiden’s eyes moved across the bedraggled, overgrown landscape, dressed in the dead brown of winter.
“It is,” Thea said fiercely, her anger surging at the thoughtless family who let this beautiful place fall into disrepair. “I guess it took a little while for her estate to settle. I’ve had my Realtor friend stalking the listings for me, and… here we are.”
“What’s your renovation budget?” Aiden asked.
“Yeah. Umm, about that.”
The only good thing about 201’s sad state was that it made the listing price almost—almost—within the realm of affordability for her. If it were in even slightly better shape or anywhere approaching the size of its fancy neighbors, it would be comically far out of her price range. She gnawed on her lip for a second, then blurted out the renovation amount she’d calculated based on the house’s listed price, the estimated monthly payments, and the lack of zeroes in her bank account.
Aiden grabbed a zippered portfolio from the center console and opened it to jot the figure down. And then because she was still a little nervous and being nervous made her talkative, she filled the truck with more chatter.
“So it’s got three bedrooms, which is perfectly cozy, and a master bath with a claw-foot tub. Oh! And there’s a breakfast nook and built-in bookshelves, and I know the landscaping’s a mess, but I think there’s something salvageable in there once summer rolls around. And look! The front door’s round on top, like something out of the Shire.”
“Bilbo-approved,” Aiden said. “What else?”
She cut her eyes to him, searching for sarcasm, but his mouth was curved into a relaxed smile as his gaze traced the steep roofline, so she plowed ahead.
“I know its interior was last updated in like 1973, and since it was built near the turn of the century, I’m sure it has wiring issues and God knows what else, but I don’t want somebody to buy this house and tear it down so they can build something bigger and fancier,” she said. “Too many people overlook the small and the cute in favor of the extravagant and the obvious, and that’s too bad.” She blinked and stopped talking.
Aiden had turned in the passenger seat to face her, his eyes alight. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll give you a fair estimate of how much work it’s going to take to make your small little charmer into a habitable home.”
Before she started burbling a monologue of gratitude, the Realtor’s SUV pulled into the driveway behind them.
“Showtime.” Aiden tossed open the door and let a blast of cold air invade the cozy interior.
“Thea!” Melinda May, with her steel-wool hair and her red blazer peeking out from her faux-leopard coat, greeted her with a hug when they reached the round-topped hobbit door. “I didn’t know you were bringing your boyfriend.”
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend!” Thea exclaimed, and Melinda looked more closely at him once they were inside and out of the cold.
“No, he’s definitely not.” She inclined her head. “You’re Aiden Murdoch.”
He returned her nod with a curious lift of his brows, and she explained, “Your company did a remodel on my office building about five years ago. Most of the girls took long lunch breaks when you were there working.”
