Chapter 10 Piper
TEN
Piper
“The place needs some work,” I warned him.
Grayden followed me through the back door and onto the sunporch. “That’s okay. I don’t mind work.”
I shrugged out of my coat. I’d turned on the heat earlier, but the air inside still held a chill. It had never gotten warm enough to be toasty in the winter. Just tolerable.
But my pulse was still racing from our snowball fight, heating me through. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so exhilarated.
I’d had plenty of snowball fights with Ollie, sure, but those were silly and fun. Mother-and-son bonding time. What just happened with Grayden had my blood pumping and my stomach fluttering like I was sixteen again and had just been noticed by a sexy bad boy.
When he’d grabbed me, and I landed on top of him in the snow, he’d looked at me like he wanted to bundle together to conserve body heat. Preferably naked.
My younger self would’ve been rejoicing. He noticed me!
My older, more responsible self was trying to rein in my wilder side. I did not need to be getting those kinds of ideas about Grayden O’Neal.
“I’ll give you the grand tour. Such as it is.”
Grayden unzipped his jacket, revealing a snug waffle-knit shirt beneath that hugged his chest. “Ready when you are.”
His deep voice hummed inside me. I had no idea if he was doing that on purpose or if it was just the effect he had on me. But Grayden sounded like pure sex whenever he spoke. It was distracting.
No, Piper. You may not flirt with Grace’s brother.
“As you can see, the house is pretty out of date. There are two bedrooms, one bath. The sunporch can function as a third bedroom.”
“I remember,” he said in that rumbly yet soft tone of his. “That’s where Teller slept. Been a while, but I’ve been here before. Thousands of times, probably.”
I breathed out a laugh. “Right. Of course.”
It was surreal having him here. This man I’d grown up around. Who’d been Teller’s closest confidante. My first intense crush.
Gah, how many nights had I fantasized about Grayden while living in this house?
Grayden was that same man, and yet different too. Like a distorted double image. Fifteen years was a very long time.
We went into the kitchen. I gestured around us, trying to be professional. As if real estate agents commonly had snowball fights with prospective tenants and wound up lying on top of them.
“My mom kept living here until she died. She left the house to me in her will. Surprised the heck out of me.”
There. The perfect subject to erase any pleasurable feelings. My mother.
Grayden took in the dusty stove, linoleum floors, the cabinet doors that didn’t close all the way. The boxy white fridge straight out of the 1990s.
“That was good of her,” he said.
I smirked, the bitterness impossible to hide.
“Maybe it was consolation for all the years I took care of her and she told me daily how much she hated me. Teller was gone for a lot of it, but Mom never failed to remind me he would’ve done a better job.
After Teller was wounded and took his medical discharge, he tried to do his part.
But Mom would freak out every time she saw his scars. ”
Grayden winced. “And I assume your husband wasn’t much help with her?”
“Danny? Not at all. Mom couldn’t stand him. Said he was all facade with nothing beneath, and it turns out she was onto something. You know what they say about broken clocks being right twice a day.”
I forced a brilliant smile, pushing away the ugly memories this house always brought to the surface for me.
“Anyway, after Mom passed, I rented the place as-is to a neighbor from down the street. She used it as a quilting and sewing space until pretty recently. But then she passed away too, and her kids didn’t want any of her stuff. Told me to get rid of it, but I haven’t had much time to focus on it.”
We’d moved on to the living room, where piles of scrap fabric still lay in heaps. A huge work table with an ancient sewing machine occupied the space where a couch might’ve gone.
Lint and loose threads were everywhere. Not to mention boxes of my mom’s old stuff in all the storage spaces.
From here, the open doorways to the bathroom and one of the bedrooms were visible. Those views weren’t much better. Grayden walked the short distance down the hall, peering into each room.
I gritted my teeth, staring at the mess in the living area. I’d seen it all a few minutes ago, but now it seemed to have grown, like something alive and multiplying.
Grayden had not only witnessed my near breakdown after that awful conversation with Danny. He was seeing my utter failure to manage this place as a landlord.
What had I been thinking, putting up that rental notice? I should’ve at least brought a vacuum in here and sprayed some air freshener first.
Like that would’ve made much difference.
“I know it’s not much,” I said when he returned to the living room.
“Good thing I don’t need much. Just want to open up my own studio. If I can live in the back and set up the front rooms for clients, that would be ideal.”
“The zoning is mixed use, so I don’t see why not. Depending on local regulations about tattooing and that kind of thing.”
“I’ve been checking on it. Shouldn’t be an issue.” He made a slow circle, hands on his hips as he studied the space. “Yeah. I think this’ll work well.”
“But it’s such a mess right now. It needs repairs and there’s all this old stuff, both the last renter’s and my mom’s. There’s probably something better out there for you.”
A frown creased his mouth. “You changing your mind about renting the place? Or you just don’t want to rent it to me?”
“No. I don’t have any issue with you, Grayden.”
“Seems like you do. You hid from me yesterday when I was at Silver Linings.”
“I didn’t hide. I was very busy.”
“Sure, busy staring at me and gossiping with your employees.”
My mouth dropped open. “I was shutting down their gossip. But can you blame people for being curious? Everything about you is mysterious.”
“That’s your excuse for not renting to me?”
“That’s not what I said!”
He crossed his arms, his body language making a clear accusation. Defensiveness made me keep talking.
“You were gone for years, then showed up in town with no warning. You spent the night at my house and took off in the morning without any word or even a note.”
“You expected a note?”
Geez, I sounded like a disgruntled one-night stand. “Not necessarily. I’m just giving examples.”
“About how I’m mysterious,” he deadpanned.
“And add to that your broody aura, the neck tattoo and scruffy hair, the hot-guy glasses—”
“Hot-guy glasses?” The frown hadn’t left his face, but I could’ve sworn he was smirking.
“Look, that isn’t the point. I’m just trying to say, I don’t have a problem with you.”
“You sure? You did just call me scruffy.”
Was he kidding or not? I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “Let’s sit down and talk. We can probably work something out with the rental.”
After a moment, he nodded. “Okay.”
“Do you want some tea? I’m pretty sure the kettle in the kitchen can handle that much. And there are some tea bags somewhere. Quilting lady loved her chamomile.”
“Sure. I’m an herbal tea guy.”
“When you’re not drinking double espressos?”
“Exactly.”
I snickered, which turned to a genuine smile when I saw Grayden giving me a soft yet sardonic smile back.
At least we weren’t lobbing snowballs at one another. Or perceived insults.