Glass and timber and iron, built into the mountain like it belongs there.
A massive wraparound porch.
Warm exterior lights casting golden glows against stone.
I think I spy a hot tub tucked into one corner around back, overlooking a yard that stretches into shadow.
And—wait—is that a?
“Is that a basketball court?”I breathe.
“Uh, yep.”
“And a soccer net?”I add.
He nods and parks smoothly before he cuts the engine.
“Are you the only one living here?”I ask quietly.
Because suddenly this feels bigger than I expected.
He glances at me, expression softening just a little.
“Yeah.It’s just me now.Maddox lives in town.”
His son.
I’ve met Maddox a few times.
Charming.Sharp.Definitely his father’s kid.
“You ready?”J.T.asks.
“Yep,” I lie.
Because honestly?
What am I doing here?
Are we going to talk more?
Sign something?
Cross a line I can’t uncross—as in are we gonna fuck?
He opens my door, helps me out, and I follow him up the steps like I’m stepping into another life.
Inside, it’s breathtaking.
Exposed beams.
Custom timber joinery.
Warm wood floors.
Two fireplaces—one a dramatic wood-burning centerpiece in the living room, another propane one near a breakfast nook that looks like it belongs in a magazine.
The kitchen is massive, but welcoming.
