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“Of course. I’ll let Blair and the owners know.”

What? You don’t just cancel an open house. That’s not fair to the sellers. Potential buyers might come through. What if Marcus doesn’t want the house after a second tour? Those buyers might put in offers on other homes by then. What is Coleman thinking?

Marcus shoots me a questioning look. I must be staring at him with my thoughts written all over my expression.

“Why would you block me from looking at a home I’m interested in?” He seems genuinely curious.

“That house is a big commitment.”

“I’m not afraid of commitment,” he says, staring into my eyes with a determined gaze.

“Don’t you want something more … sleek?” I make an attempt to steer him down the road.

I’m banking on the fact that he has a taste for the showy and opulent. I’ve seen YouTube tours of professional football players’ condos and homes. They’re all clean lines, metal and marble. My future brother-in-law has a place far more like I’d expect Marcus to pick since he’s all about the show. Why would Marcus pick a home like Seventeen Cherry Hill? It’s gorgeous, but it’s not for show. It’s the kind of home you build a life in, not one you purchase to impress the masses.

“You could get a place in Declan’s neighborhood. You could even get two or three. One for your private life, another to use for your out-of-town guests, one for parties ....”

Coleman is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Loretta’s mouth keeps opening and then shutting as if she has something to say, but can’t figure out what. Her eyes are pinging from Marcus to Coleman to me.

“What’s so special about this house, Delaney?” I ask.

I know what’s special. Everything. The land, the location, the detailed craftsmanship, that porch. Everything. I need to hear from him what he sees in Seventeen Cherry Hill.

“I want it,” he says, tipping his chin in an almost defiant gesture. “It’s the house I want.”

“And that’s that,” Coleman says, his voice bright and clipped. “What Marcus Delaney wants, Marcus Delaney gets.”

I owe Coleman an explanation. And an apology. He knows I love Seventeen Cherry Hill. If it were literally any other client, I’d be pre-emptively pulling together the contract. I know I’ll never live there, but I want it to go to the right person. And that person is definitely not Marcus Delaney.

Coleman furrows his brow in my direction and then turns back to Marcus with an adoring smile. “We’ll set up another tour when you’re ready.”

“Sounds great, Coleman. I’m looking forward to it.”

Marcus turns and walks out of the office, pivoting to look at Loretta before he leaves. “Afternoon, Miss Loretta. Y’all have a nice evening.”

Melted butter. Glazed carrots with brown sugar.

Why does his voice make me want to eat decadent southern food? It’s not right.

Loretta’s smiling like a schoolgirl as the door to the office shuts behind the most infuriating man on the planet.

She looks over at me, dreamy-eyed.

“What are you smiling about?” I ask, shuffling a stack of papers on my desk and staring at the woman I love like she’s my own family.

“Nothing,” she says, smiling wider. “Nothing at all.”

“That’s what I thought.”

She giggles. It’s an actual giggle. “You two are somethin’. I’ll tell you that. He’s got his eye on you.”

“Well, I’ve got my eye on him.”

“I can see that,” she gets this giddy expression on her face like she’s watching the final episode of the bachelor.

“Not like that. At all. More like a sniper has his eye on the target.”

“Oh, Cass,” Loretta says as if I’m joking. “You’re a silly one. One of these days that man is going to win you over.”