When he’d grabbed me, and I landed on top of him in the snow, he’d looked at me like he wanted to bundle together to conserve body heat. Preferably naked.
My younger self would’ve been rejoicing.He noticed me!
My older, more responsible self was trying to rein in my wilder side. I didnotneed to be getting those kinds of ideas about Grayden O’Neal.
“I’ll give you the grand tour. Such as it is.”
Grayden unzipped his jacket, revealing a snug waffle-knit shirt beneath that hugged his chest. “Ready when you are.”
His deep voice hummed inside me. I had no idea if he was doing that on purpose or if it was just the effect he had on me. But Grayden sounded like pure sex whenever he spoke. It was distracting.
No, Piper. You may not flirt with Grace’s brother.
“As you can see, the house is pretty out of date. There are two bedrooms, one bath. The sunporch can function as a third bedroom.”
“I remember,” he said in that rumbly yet soft tone of his. “That’s where Teller slept. Been a while, but I’ve been here before. Thousands of times, probably.”
I breathed out a laugh. “Right. Of course.”
It was surreal having him here. This man I’d grown up around. Who’d been Teller’s closest confidante. My first intense crush.
Gah, how many nights had I fantasized about Grayden while living in this house?
Grayden was that same man, and yet different too. Like a distorted double image. Fifteen years was a very long time.
We went into the kitchen. I gestured around us, trying to be professional. As if real estate agents commonly had snowball fights with prospective tenants and wound up lying on top of them.
“My mom kept living here until she died. She left the house to me in her will. Surprised the heck out of me.”
There. The perfect subject to erase any pleasurable feelings. My mother.
Grayden took in the dusty stove, linoleum floors, the cabinet doors that didn’t close all the way. The boxy white fridge straight out of the 1990s.
“That was good of her,” he said.
I smirked, the bitterness impossible to hide. “Maybe it wasconsolation for all the years I took care of her and she told me daily how much she hated me. Teller was gone for a lot of it, but Mom never failed to remind me he would’ve done a better job. After Teller was wounded and took his medical discharge, he tried to do his part. But Mom would freak out every time she saw his scars.”
Grayden winced. “And I assume your husband wasn’t much help with her?”
“Danny? Not at all. Mom couldn’t stand him. Said he was all facade with nothing beneath, and it turns out she was onto something. You know what they say about broken clocks being right twice a day.”
I forced a brilliant smile, pushing away the ugly memories this house always brought to the surface for me.
“Anyway, after Mom passed, I rented the place as-is to a neighbor from down the street. She used it as a quilting and sewing space until pretty recently. But then she passed away too, and her kids didn’t want any of her stuff. Told me to get rid of it, but I haven’t had much time to focus on it.”
We’d moved on to the living room, where piles of scrap fabric still lay in heaps. A huge work table with an ancient sewing machine occupied the space where a couch might’ve gone.
Lint and loose threads wereeverywhere. Not to mention boxes of my mom’s old stuff in all the storage spaces.
From here, the open doorways to the bathroom and one of the bedrooms were visible. Those views weren’t much better. Grayden walked the short distance down the hall, peering into each room.
I gritted my teeth, staring at the mess in the living area. I’d seen it all a few minutes ago, but now it seemed to have grown, like something alive and multiplying.
Grayden had not only witnessed my near breakdown after that awful conversation with Danny. He was seeing my utter failure to manage this place as a landlord.
What had I been thinking, putting up that rental notice? Ishould’ve at least brought a vacuum in here and sprayed some air freshener first.
Like that would’ve made much difference.
