Chapter 10
Gavin
A HARMLESS LIE
“How much are you planning to spend on this place? What’s your budget?” Ethan asks after being quiet for most of the drive to Wallula Lake.
Leave it to Ethan to only be interested in the financial aspects.
I shrug, staring out the window. “Don’t really have one.”
“What?” he nearly shouts. “What do you mean you don’t have a budget?”
My lips press into a smirk I just know irritates the hell out of him. “Exactly that. No budget.”
“But how? Everyone has a budget. That’s the financially responsible thing to do.”
“Well, for starters, I’m rich.”
He chokes on a cough. “Fucking hell, Gavin. You’re not supposed to say that.”
“Why? It’s just us. I’m rich. You are too, so don’t judge me for saying the quiet part out loud.”
“It just sounds…” he trails off before we both say, at the same time, “dickish.”
I’m only fucking with Ethan because it’s easy to do. Of course I have a budget—it just happens to be a large one. And if he knew anything about Wallula Lake, he’d know the median home price is well below the national average. It’s a small, quirky town, not Malibu.
“I get that you want Lily to feel connected to her mom, but couldn’t you get a rental on weekends instead?”
When this first began, it went from a far-fetched idea to a full-blown plan faster than I’d like to admit.
I guess there’s still an impulsiveness in me that refuses to let go.
Only now, instead of jetting off for my next adrenaline rush, I’ve decided buying a house on the lake Allison loved is exactly what Lily needs.
So maybe, one day, when she’s grown, she’ll know I did everything I could to honor her mother.
It’s not rational, but it makes sense to me. And once I decide on something, that’s it. It’s final. There’s no changing my mind—I’m relentless until the goal is achieved.
“It’s not the same,” I tell him. “Besides, if I do end up finding the right house, I’ll use it as an investment property when we’re not there.”
He nods, seeming to approve of my idea to rent it out on occasion.
The rest of the drive is quiet, which is exactly how I like it.
Ethan is probably overthinking the upcoming harvest season, creating stress where there doesn’t need to be any.
Our meeting earlier was with one of our more challenging distributors, whose warehouse sits about fifteen minutes south of Wallula Lake in Echo Springs.
Ethan invited me to tag along because, apparently, being tall makes me intimidating enough to keep the guy from being a complete asshole.
Since there wasn’t enough time to drive back to Red Mountain and then turn around for the open house, it only made sense for him to drop me off on his way back.
The GPS instructs us to turn down a narrow, tree-lined road. Sunlight filters through the branches, flashing in and out across the dashboard until the land falls away to reveal the shimmering expanse of Wallula Lake.
Even after seeing the listing photos, the real thing puts them to shame.
The water is a mirror—still, endless, a perfect reflection of the sky above.
The house sits back from the road on a gentle slope, framed by cedar and wrapped in weathered gray siding, with a deep front porch that curves around one side.
Ethan whistles low. “Not bad.”
“Not bad at all,” I say quietly.
It’s more than not bad. It’s perfect.
My excitement is quickly doused in ice water when I finally notice the long line of cars parked along the shoulder—at least a dozen, with more coming down the driveway.
I was expecting some interest, but nothing like this. This is unreal.
Ethan notices. “Looks like you’ve got competition.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, staring at the cluster of people already walking toward the house. “I’m fucked.”
Scanning the area, my eyes search for that familiar flash of red hair. But there’s no sign of her yet.
The sound of my phone vibrating pulls my attention.
Scottie
Running behind. Be there in ten. Sorry!!!!
My reply is instant.
Nothing to be sorry about. Your text better have been sent hands free. Drive safe.
Ethan pulls the truck to a stop and throws it in park.
“Well,” he says, eyeing the line of cars. “Good luck with that.”
“Appreciate the confidence.”
He’s still laughing as I climb out of the truck. I shut the door and wave him off before turning my attention to the house again.
A woman in a beige blazer stands near the front steps, she’s dressed professionally, handing out flyers to the various people approaching the home. The listing agent, I assume.
She greets me as I approach. “Hi! Thanks for stopping by. Feel free to take a look around, and let me know if you have any questions about the property.”
I nod, taking the flyer. “Thanks.”
The inside looks crowded, shoulder to shoulder, so I figure I’ll wait for Scottie to do the walk-through and take the flagstone path along the side of the house instead.
There’s a detached garage a short distance from the dock. It looks like the perfect spot to store paddleboards and a couple of kayaks, maybe even some fishing gear I’ll probably never use.
To kill some time, I wander over, following the path that runs between the garage and a small stretch of lawn.
From here, the view of the lake is even better—the water calm, sunlight flashing off its surface.
The faint sound of laughter carries from the dock where a few potential buyers are talking, but another sound pulls my attention.
Crying.
I pause near the corner of the garage—not trying to eavesdrop, but not wanting to walk straight into someone’s private moment either. I’m about to turn back when I hear a woman’s voice, thick with emotion.
“I hate letting it go,” she says. “So many memories here. The kids, the holidays, summers on the lake.”
A man sighs in response. “It’s time, Maggie. We can’t keep it in the family anymore. The upkeep’s too much, and he’s made it clear he’s not ready to settle down. The house deserves better than to sit empty.”
They must be the owners.
The right thing to do would be to turn around and not eavesdrop on their very personal conversation. Yet, for whatever reason, my feet stay rooted, my breathing quieting as I listen.
“I know.” She sniffles. “I just want it to go to the right people. Someone who’ll love it the way we did. Maybe a young couple—with kids. A family who’ll make new memories here.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” the man agrees. “It’s not about money. We’ve got plenty of interest, so we can afford to be picky. I want to feel good about who it goes to.”
A young couple.
A family.
The right people.
If that’s what they’re after, I’m already screwed. A single dad probably isn’t their idea of a picture-perfect family.
Unless...
The idea hits before I can stop it—ridiculous but somehow logical at the same time. If they want a couple, a family, then maybe that’s exactly what I’ll give them.
I step back quietly, planning to loop around the other side before they notice me. But as I turn the corner, I nearly collide with the couple themselves.
“Oh!” the woman gasps, steadying herself with a hand on my arm before smiling. Her eyes are red and shiny from tears, but her expression is warm. “You must be here for the open house.”
“I am,” I manage, clearing my throat. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
The man chuckles. “No harm done. I’m Carl, and this is my wife, Maggie. We’re the owners. We didn’t want to be in the way.”
I shake their hands. “Gavin Ledger. It’s a beautiful home.”
“Thank you,” Maggie says, her smile softening. “Are you thinking of putting in an offer?”
Lying is wrong. It would be awful to lie to these nice people. But…I also want this house. It would be different if there were anything else available, but that’s not the case. And who knows how long it’ll be before another one comes along? It’s a harmless lie. A white lie. It doesn’t hurt anyone.
“I am,” I say. “I’m actually waiting for my wife to get here so we can do the walk-through together.”
Maggie’s eyes light up, and Carl’s grin widens.
“Oh, how wonderful,” she says, exchanging a glance with her husband. “You two will have to see the view from the primary—it’s breathtaking.”
“She loved the pictures online. I’m sure she’ll love it even more in person.
” It’s not a total lie—Scottie did say she liked the house.
“Honestly, I’m mostly looking for something for my daughter.
Somewhere she can be a kid and run around.
Spend summers, holidays. Be out in the fresh air and off devices. ”
Maggie’s expression turns wistful, and I know I’ve said the right thing.
“That’s lovely,” she says softly. “We raised our family here. We were hoping to pass it down, but our kids travels a lot for work and aren’t ready for that kind of responsibility.”
Before I can say anything else, Carl’s phone rings. “It’s Andy,” he tells Maggie, glancing at the screen.
They both excuse themselves with quick, apologetic smiles.
“It was so nice meeting you,” Maggie says.
I nod, watching them head toward the dock. The guilt I should be feeling is swallowed up by how easily the lie slipped out of me—which is a whole other thing to unpack. Instead of dwelling on it, my phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling me back.
Scottie
Be there in a minute.
By the time I make it back around to the front, a white sedan is pulling up the drive.
Scottie steps out wearing a form-fitting navy dress that hits right above the knee, a small slit running up one side. It hugs her curves in a way that has my mouth watering. Her heels only make it worse—emphasizing her long, creamy legs. She looks so fucking gorgeous.
Normally, she dresses a little more eccentric—bright colors, fun patterns—but it’s obvious she wanted to play the part today.
I can’t help but smile, imagining her rifling through her clothes, trying on different outfits until she found this one and decided it fit the role.
I’m so caught up watching her strut toward the house—the subtle sway of her hips, the sexy confidence in her stride—that I almost forget the predicament I’ve landed us in.
She’s seconds away from introducing herself to the listing agent and unraveling the whole thing before I’ve even gotten a chance.
The listing agent greets her warmly, and I see Scottie reaching for a handshake, smiling, oblivious.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m moving—past the lawn, across the gravel, closing in on her before she can speak.
“Hey—” she starts, turning toward me, but I don’t let her finish.
I cup the side of her face and kiss her.