Page 116 of Dirty

He nodded. “Long story. Bank foreclosure. Previous owner lost his job, and when they foreclosed on it, he got mad and tore the inside all to hell. It needs a lot of work.”

The home was a two-story with a three-car garage. The yard was landscaped beautifully, and had grass in it, which was something the homes in the other side of town didn’t have. I looked at the tall palms, got off the bike, and raked my toes through the grass.

“It’s got grass,” I said.

“Nice, huh? he asked.

“I love how it smells.”

He motioned toward the house. “C’mon.”

I followed him inside.

A man dressed in a black suit met us at the door. “Mr. Downey?”

“I’m Adam. This is Alexandra.”

The man shook each of our hands. “Greyson Winslow. I’ll show you around.”

Adam was right. The home had been damaged by the previous owner, but what remained allowed me to imagine the entire home free of fault without giving it much thought.

The windows in the back of the home had a view of the ocean. I hadn’t realized we were so close to the beach when we pulled in the neighborhood.

I stood at the windows and gazed out at the sea and imagined what it would be like to live in such a place.

There wouldn’t be any reason to ever leave.

A person could walk to the beach.

Or, make love in the living room while they watched the waves crashing against the sand. As Adam inspected for needed repairs, I stood and stared out at the sea.

And dreamed.

“What about the pool? Adam asked, bringing me out of my semi-conscious state. “Is it damaged? The pump? Filtration system?”

It has a pool?

I looked at him and then the realtor.

“No,” Mr. Winslow responded. “Oddly enough it’s working fine.”

Adam nodded. “Based on what I’ve seen, it needs $300,000 worth of work, and that’s conservative.”

“The bank has bids that range from $450,000 to $350,000,” Mr. Winslow said. “I’ll agree with that figure.”

Adam motioned toward the stairway. “Can you give us a few?”

Winslow nodded. “Take your time.”

We walked up the stairs, surveyed the master bedroom, and then Adam spent quite some time looking at the damage in the bathroom while I stared out at the ocean from my new vantage point.

He walked into the room and sighed. “Pretty rough.”

“It sure will be nice when it’s fixed,” I said. “How long will it take to fix it?”

He shrugged. “Six weeks with the right crew. Maybe five.”

“If you get the bid, when you’re fixing it, I want to come bone in here,” I whispered. “I’d love to suck your cock while I listened to the ocean.”