Chapter 29
29
PORTIA
I woke to the warmth of Dean’s body beside me, his bare chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. Morning light filtered through the blinds. The room was hot and stuffy. We had fallen asleep with the window open and now the morning heat and humidity were pouring in. But I didn’t want to get up and close it. Not yet. For a moment, I just lay there, watching him—the way his dark lashes brushed his cheeks, the faint stubble shadowing his jaw. Last night had been unexpected. And perfect.
He showed a side of himself I had never seen. I got the impression that few people got to see it. Dean carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was a rock. It was evident he didn’t let people in. I knew that feeling. I could be a little closed off myself.
It was self-preservation. Letting people in put you in a vulnerable position. I certainly didn’t like to feel vulnerable, and I wasn’t this tough, leather-wearing biker dude. He had a totally different image to keep up.
I sighed softly. I would love to lie in bed with him all morning, but I had to pee, and I needed coffee. I could feel the coffee headache coming on. That was the worst. He was probably going to be craving caffeine as well. For a brief second, I considered making him breakfast in bed. And then I dismissed the idea. That was way too cheesy.
Careful not to wake him, I slipped out of bed and padded barefoot to the kitchen. The coffeemaker gurgled to life as I leaned against the counter, scrolling through my emails on my phone.
And then I saw it.
Subject: Job Offer – Willow Creek Realty
My stomach flipped. I hadn’t actually expected a response from them, let alone an offer. The owner of the firm had made it pretty clear he didn’t like me. He acted like I was a girl that got too big for her britches, and he wasn’t interested in dealing with me.
I tapped the email open, scanning the words.
Dear Ms. Winston,
After reviewing your qualifications and speaking with Vanessa Carter, we’re pleased to offer you a position as an agent at Willow Creek Realty…
My fingers tightened around the phone. Vanessa Carter. Of course.
Something felt off. Vanessa fired my ass. Why would she be telling these guys to hire me? I didn’t trust the guy or Vanessa.
The coffeemaker beeped, pulling me from my thoughts. I poured a cup, the rich scent filling the air, and took a sip, scalding my mouth. Cursing my own stupidity, I stared at the email like the words might change if I looked long and hard enough.
“Morning.”
Dean’s voice, rough with sleep, sent a shiver down my spine. I turned to find him standing in the doorway, shirtless, his hair tousled from sleep. He rubbed his hand over his chest and yawned.
“Hey,” I said, forcing a smile. “Coffee’s ready.”
I grabbed another mug and filled it for him.
He crossed the kitchen in a few strides, his fingers brushing mine as he took the mug I offered. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said. “If they’ve found Seth or there’s bad news, don’t tell me. I don’t do bad news until after coffee.”
“Not Seth. Although I haven’t checked social media. This is, well, I got a job offer.”
His eyebrows lifted. “That’s good, right?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“You don’t know if a job offer is a good thing?”
I hesitated. “I had an interview, and it absolutely did not go well. The man was never going to hire me. On my way out, I ran into my old boss, the one that fired m in New York. She mentioned she was looking at partnering with small-town brokerage firms. Apparently, Vanessa went in and sang my praises after we ran into each other. And now I have a job offer. I don’t get it.”
Dean’s expression darkened. He took a slow sip of coffee, studying me over the rim. “Sounds like she’s covering her own ass.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
I was secretly glad he was taking my side, but I wanted to know his reasons. I knew my own. I thought I was being biased, but if he thought the same thing, that gave my initial opinion validity.
He shrugged, setting the mug down. “She sees you as a threat. If you’re stuck behind a desk at some small-town brokerage, she can swoop in and start making moves to open a branch of her luxury real estate empire.”
I hadn’t even considered that. My fingers drummed against the counter. “You think that’s her angle?”
“I think people like her don’t do favors.” He smirked. “I can see the wheels turning.”
I chewed my cheek, frustration bubbling up. “I don’t want her coming in here and turning this place into some soulless luxury enclave. These towns—they’re full of history. Character. They don’t need glass monstrosities with no heart. I don’t want my old brokerage coming in here and changing everything that makes this town what it is. These towns are full of heritage homes and history. This place doesn’t need massive luxury mansions with sharp edges and no character. It needs people who care about its integrity and the type of people who want to live here.”
Dean tilted his head. “Sounds to me like a mission statement.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’ve been trying to figure out what you want, right?” He leaned against the counter, his feet crossed at his ankles. “Real estate’s your passion. You know this town—the good, the bad, the nosy reporters. The history. You know that at its core it’s a good place with good people. Maybe what it needs is someone who actually gives a damn. Maybe an expert like you handling housing sales is what’s missing around here.”
My breath caught. “You think I should open my own firm?”
“Why not?” He grinned. “Your old man made a name for himself here. Why not bring it back? Make it yours. Breathe new life into the Watson family legacy.”
The idea hit me like lightning. Not the swirling unease from yesterday, but something bright. Electric. A spark. The thing I had been looking for since I dragged my sorry ass back home.
Dean chuckled. “There it is.”
“What?”
“That light in your eyes.”
I couldn’t help it—I kissed his cheek, my mind already racing. “I have to go.”
He blinked. “Now?”
“Yes, now.” I set my coffee down and darted toward the bedroom. “I have to shower. Don’t come in. Not because I don’t want your naked body in my shower, but if your naked body is in my shower, I’m not going to be going anywhere.”
He followed me into my bedroom. I stripped off the pajamas, not caring that he was there watching me strip. He’d seen all of it already. His lips had been everywhere already. I didn’t have time to feel ashamed.
I turned the shower on, stepped in, and closed the glass door behind me. Dean sat down on the closed toilet, his coffee in hand, watching me through the fogged-up glass with that amused smirk of his. He didn’t say anything at first, just sat there like he was enjoying the show.
“So, what’s the plan? You gonna go all-in on this?”
I lathered my hair, letting the water run down my back. “I think so. I mean, why not? I know this town better than anyone Vanessa could send. And if she’s really planning on swooping in here, I’m not just going to sit back and let her turn it into some corporate playground.”
“Good. You’ve got the guts for it. And the brains. Just don’t let her get under your skin.”
“She already did,” I admitted, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair. “But not anymore. If she wants to play games, fine. I’ll play better. New York was her playground. This is mine. No one is going to want some big city chick moving in here and bringing all her bullshit.”
Dean chuckled, setting his mug on the edge of the sink. “That’s what I like to hear. But you’re going to need more than just fire to pull this off. You got a game plan yet?”
I reached for the body wash, scrubbing quickly as my mind raced. “Not yet. But I know where to start.”
I stepped out and reached for the towel he was holding out. I quickly dried off and walked back into my room to dress. Dean watched me the whole time. This had to be the strangest yet best morning-after experience of my life. I felt like we had done this dance a hundred times. After putting on some moisturizer and putting my hair up, I paused and looked at him. I was a little surprised he was still here. Technically, it was his house.
“Will you lock up on your way out?”
“I was gonna ask if you wanted to take the boat out today.”
“Raincheck?” I asked as I put on my sandals. “Tonight. I promise.”
“Where are you running off to?”
“I need to talk to someone about this idea you’ve given me.”
Dean caught my wrist as I stared out of the room. He pulled me against him. His lips met mine, giving me just a little taste of the pleasure that only he could give. “So you don’t forget to come back tonight,” he murmured.
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I grabbed my purse and keys and stopped to look at him one last time. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but I liked it. I just hoped he didn’t change his mind. I liked this, whatever this was.
I drove to my parents’ house. It stood at the end of a tree-lined street, its wraparound porch and sprawling gardens unchanged since my childhood. It was in one of the old districts in town. A place that so far had been untouched by progress. I didn’t bother knocking—just let myself in, the familiar scent of lemon polish and fresh-cut flowers wrapping around me.
“Mom? Dad?”
“Out back!” Mom’s voice floated through the screen door.
I found them in the garden, Dad in his favorite rocking chair with an iced tea in his hand. Mom was tending to her roses. A pitcher of tea was sitting on the table next to my dad’s chair.
“Portia?” Dad sat forward. “What’s going on?”
I dropped into the chair beside him. “Can I pick your brain?”
He exchanged a glance with Mom. “About what, sweetheart?”
I leaned forward, feeling excitement for the first time in a long time. “About reopening your brokerage. Together. ”
Mom stopped her pruning. Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Together?” he asked.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Well,” he said slowly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Guess we’d better hear you out.”
And just like that, the spark inside me flared into a flame.
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts as I looked between them. “You built something amazing here—not just a business, but a legacy. People trusted the Watson name because of you. Because you cared about this town, about the people in it. I want to bring that back. But I need your help.”
Dad set his iced tea down. “Portia, honey, we’ve been out of the game for years. The market’s changed. It’s not the same as when we were running things.”
“I know,” I said quickly. “But that’s where I come in. I’ve got the freshest knowledge—what works, what doesn’t—and I know this town. You know this town. Together, we can make it work. We have to take control before Vanessa does.”
Mom wiped her hands on her gardening apron and sat down beside Dad. “Vanessa?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
“Vanessa Carter,” I explained. “She’s some big-shot real estate mogul from New York. She’s my old boss. She fired me and now she’s looking to get into the market here. But she doesn’t get this place. Not like we do. I don’t want her to get a foothold here. If she does, she’ll change this place and not for the better.”
My dad smiled. “We wouldn’t that.”