Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
MICAH
“Really? Who?” His grin almost knocked me to my knees. It was open and bright. But the worst thing I could do was flirt with a client.
“Actually, I’m not sure,” I said with a small chuckle. “I guess you just have that kind of face.”
He laughed, and my insides clenched. “Maybe I do. Never been told that before, but then again, everyone looks like someone else to me. The curse of my childhood.”
I was about to ask what he meant by that but did not get the chance because his phone rang. “Hello?...No, I’m not changing my mind…No, I’m not confused…You know what, Sheila, kiss my ass.” As soon as he hung up, his hands dove into his hair and pulled.
“Everythin’ okay?”
“Yeah, just my ex who doesn’t want to take the hint. I’ve done everything I could to make the breakup easier for her, and she doesn’t want to listen to me. Now, she’s demanding that I get my ass back to Lexington, and we’ll put this whole mess behind us.”
“Stalker?”
“Nah. For her, the breakup came out of left field. For me, it was way past time.” He stopped and chuckled softly. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this.”
I didn’t either. It made me a bit uncomfortable, but at the same time, I was willing to listen to him. There was just something about him. He reminded me of someone…but who? “Well, if you’re ready, I have your keys for you. I’ll let you do a final walk-through, then you can sign a few pieces of paper, and this house will be all yours.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
When he brushed past me, I held my breath, forcing myself not to react to the heat coming off him. What was it about this guy?
“There are hardwood floors throughout, and everything has been renovated and updated. You have a brand new kitchen, and both bathrooms have new hardware and have been renovated. There are three bedrooms and two baths, including a large master suite, a chef’s dream kitchen, and a sunroom.” I was rambling and didn’t know how to stop. He’d already bought the house; I didn’t need to sell him on it. “As stated previously, you will still need to get a refrigerator, washer, and dryer. The other appliances have recently been upgraded and are stainless steel. I can tell you where to get the best deal if you’d like.”
He grinned again, and this time, I saw a small dimple on his right cheek. “I’d like that. Thank you. I know no one and nothing.” He laughed.
Shaking my head with a smile, I said, “No one? What brought you to Rolesville?” For some reason, I assumed he had family or friends in the area.
“A new start, new job.”
“And Rolesville fell in your lap?” Rolesville was a great place to live, but most people came here to get out of Raleigh or because they had family within driving distance…at least, that had been my experience.
“Sort of. I came here for vacation a couple of years ago with some friends, and it felt good. I can’t explain it, but I always thought that if I moved somewhere, it would be here.”
“Here?” It seemed like an odd place to come for vacation. Normally, people stuck to the bigger cities. We were thirty minutes from Raleigh, but when on vacation, most did not want to have to drive that far. They’d rather be in the heart of all the hubbub.
“Yeah, my friend found an Airbnb here, and we spent our week on the hiking trails not too far from here. It was how he wanted to do his last weekend as a bachelor. I loved it here, and if I could’ve, I would’ve stayed.” He’d said it so matter-of-factly it surprised me, but I understood what he meant.
When I was seventeen, my parents divorced after my dad retired from the Navy. He found Rolesville and never left. Honestly, his decision to move here had shocked me, but when he bought the bar, I thought he’d been taken over by aliens, had been possessed by a ghost, or had lost his mind. Maybe a midlife crisis or brain injury. It had been none of those, however. He simply wanted to do something new. He’d been working on jets his whole military career, and he was tired of it. He told me if it didn’t work out, he could always fall back on the plane stuff. The bar was a success, and he loved his life. When I graduated college, I moved out here to be closer to him since my mom had remarried, and I even helped out at the bar on weekends or when he was short-staffed. “I get it. Well, since you are minus a fridge, why don’t you come out to my dad’s bar tonight? I’ll treat you to dinner and a beer to welcome you to the area.”
He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning pink. What was that about? “Uh, yeah, sure.”
“Great. Why don’t we finish the tour, sign some papers, and then we can head out. Unless you have other things you need to do first. If so, I can give you the address.”
Resting his back against the kitchen counter, he crossed his arms over his chest. We were about the same height, but he might have had an inch on me. His dark brown hair had highlights that looked almost caramel, and his tanned skin made me look like a ghost. But it was his dark eyes that really held me captive. They were deep and dark and swirled with something.
He grinned again. I swore I knew that smile, but how? From where?
“I need to get a fridge and a washer and dryer. Want to help me with that?”
Shrugging, I bit the inside of my lip to hold back my own grin. “I suppose I could. Don’t got anything better to do.”
Wilder chuckled and stood straight again. “Well, let’s finish here and get to it. Trust me, after the last month, I could use a beer.”
I couldn’t hold back and laughed with him. “Come on then.” I felt at ease with him, which was weird for me. I’d never really felt a connection with someone like this. Not this quickly.
Mentally, I slapped myself. I was getting ahead here. First, I’d just met this man. While I might have started talking to him a month ago, this was the first time I’d done more than hear his voice over the other end of the line. It was almost overwhelming.
Second, just because I could feel the zing didn’t mean he did, and it sure as hell did not mean he was gay or bi or whatever. He might be straight as a board and just looking for a friend or enjoying my friendly nature. Joke was on him; I was not normally like this. Usually, I could fake it with the best of them as I sold houses and property, guiding my clients through their home ownership journey. I smiled, I nodded, I joked and laughed at the appropriate moments, but most of the time, I didn’t feel it. Maybe I used to, but I hadn’t been like that for a long time. I think it was life. I’d become disillusioned. Or lonely. Or both.
Growing up in the Navy, I’d learned to make friends easily. It was sink or swim. If I wanted to live an isolated existence, I could have easily done so. If I didn’t make friends, I wouldn’t have to say goodbye, wouldn’t have to worry about keeping in touch, and wouldn’t have to start over when we moved to the next place. I’d tried that once, and it was a very lonely existence where rumors about me flew around the school faster than the jets my dad worked on. And when I tried to argue or make friends after that, people treated me like an outcast and bullied me. So, when we moved to the next place, I’d swallowed my anxiety and pretended I was more outgoing and friendly than I felt. I faked the smiles and laughs, made friends, and soon enough, I began to enjoy myself.
By the end of my term there, I was truly having fun. And then we moved. Oh, I could have promised I would keep in touch, but it was harder than it should have been. Yes, there was email and texting, but one day turned into two, turned into three, and so on. Soon, the days between messages grew to the point they stopped completely. The only person I still kept in touch with was from my freshman year in high school. We moved a month before I finished that school year, and that was where I’d started my last school before college. Sure, I’d made friends in my new school, but once we parted and disappeared into the unknown, each attending different colleges, I didn’t keep in touch with anyone.
I tried to shake the one friend I’d kept, but Killeen was a persistent one. She made sure to text me every morning and call me once a week. I couldn’t get rid of her. In a way, she was like a parasite that clung to its host. She wasn’t a stalker by any means, and she wasn’t over the top; she was just a good friend who I’d connected with when we were both struggling at the same point in our lives. She was dealing with her mother leaving, and I’d made it to my millionth school. We were different and yet, the same.
It didn’t take long before I was driving Wilder to Best Remodeling Home Store. One of my previous customers owned it, and I liked to support them whenever possible. Plus, they had some of the best prices around.