Chapter 2
2
M ason led the way up the stairs in case someone was still up there. He was happy he was buying a lower unit; he wouldn't want to do these stairs all the time. Climbing stairs was not hard, but he preferred his workout to be more of an organized effort. Weights, then rowing, then a swim. On alternate days, a nice long jog.
He stepped onto the landing of the second level and stood to the left to wait for Carley. He was torn between asking her to stay downstairs or letting her follow him. What if someone was still down there? What if they were still up here? He'd been away from his military training for a few years now, it was supposed to be ingrained in him so tightly that it'd never leave. Where was it now?
Carley stepped into the upstairs entryway. He watched her swallow and hug her folder to her chest. His heart felt heavy for her fear. He'd never know what it was like to be a woman and feel afraid that someone would harm her. He'd been in combat; he'd hurt people as part of his job, and he'd lost people. Some of them due to acts of war and some because he couldn't save them. Those were the people who haunted him at night. The blank stares of men and women on his operating table after they'd passed on, because he couldn't save them. If he'd been a better surgeon, he could have helped them.
She turned her face up to him, her smile faltered slightly, and he sucked in a breath. He had been told he could look menacing at times. It was usually when he thought of his past life as an Army doctor. He had so much darkness in his past and he carried the weight with him every day.
He took a deep breath and let it out. "Do you want to wait here while I check the units?" he asked.
Her smile grew and she shook her head. "No, I can check them out."
"How about we go together?"
Carley's face brightened and the fear that had been so present a moment ago seemed to vanish. He smiled at this beautiful woman. He'd watched her at the Sandbar when she came with her sister, Margo, who was married to his boss, Jace Marriott. She stuck with the women she came with and refused the many passes from the single men who frequented the bar, especially on music nights. She also seemed sad and that's what he first noticed about her. This little dark-haired beauty seemed sad. As sad as he was. His soul called to her, but she didn't answer the call. She never made an effort to come and chat with him. He couldn't take the step of talking to her though, after all, he was a bartender and as damaged as anyone could be. What on earth would she want with him?
He placed his hand lightly on the small of her back and matched her steps as they moved to the first unit on the left. The door was locked, and that seemed to put her at ease. She unlocked it, and they stepped inside together. Mason quickly did a recon, checking all points where someone could hide. When he returned to the living room from the bedroom, Carley stood facing him.
She smiled sweetly. "You've done that before."
He shrugged and felt his cheeks heat. "Military training."
She nodded. They stared at each other for a moment before she took a deep breath. "On to the next?"
"Sure."
He followed her out the door, waited as she locked it, and stepped to the next unit. Within a few moments, they'd checked all the units and found no evidence that anyone had been there.
She shook her head. "I feel silly."
"You shouldn't. I saw someone running away from here, so there was someone inside."
She shrugged. "I don't know how he would have gotten in. The front door was locked when I got here."
"There's many ways he could have gotten in. Let Quinn know. Maybe he needs to get the security cameras up and running sooner rather than later."
"I will, for sure." She took another deep breath and tucked a soft, wayward strand of hair behind her ear, and the motion mesmerized him. Her fingers were slender and looked smooth. Her hair was dark and wavy, and it shined where the light hit it. She was petite in build, but her straight posture made her look taller than she was, which he guessed at about five foot three.
She nodded. "Okay. Let's head downstairs and I'll write up your offer."
"After you."
He followed her down the stairs, watching her hair as it moved with each step. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. Carley moved to the first small round table near the wall and sat down. She pulled a long sheet of paper from her folder and removed a pen from her purse.
He sat across from her quietly, watching her hand as she neatly printed on the Offer to Purchase form. His name, the address of the condo, and the basic information she easily recalled from memory without having to look things up. That impressed him. It didn't hurt that he liked looking at her, so there was that.
As she worked on the Offer, she halted and turned her eyes up to his. "What price do you want to offer?"
His brows furrowed. "The asking price."
Her head cocked to the right. "Okay."
"Is that wrong?"
Her smile was beautiful as it grew. Her eyes twinkled. "I don't want to tell you what to do, but most people would offer less and see if it works."
"How much less?"
She took a breath. "I'm not supposed to help you with that part. After all, I work for Quinn. I'll only say some people have offered five thousand less and have been happy with the acceptance. You didn't hear it from me."
His heartbeat quickened as he watched her. She was helping him. "Okay. Let's go five thousand less than asking."
Her smile grew and she nodded. "Perfect."
Her hand flew across the page until she got to the bottom. "What will you put down for earnest money?"
He shrugged. "Five thousand seems like a good number."
She grinned, and he saw the hint of a dimple on her left cheek. She wrote the earnest money in the blank spot, then looked up at him again.
"When would you like to close?"
He shrugged. "It seems nearly ready, just closet doors. I'd like to move in right away if possible. I have to give thirty days’ notice on my apartment, but that gives me time to move slowly and get someone to clean my apartment."
"Will your bank be able to get the funds available to you right away?"
"I'm not getting a mortgage. I have the money. I only need to go to the bank and withdraw it."
Her eyes widened but she wrote a date on the blank line. "I have to give the title company a week. Will that work?"
"A week is good."
She finished up the offer and tucked her paperwork away. "I need to head back to the office and enter this on the computer. I'll email it to you through a document signing company we use. You'll electronically sign it, and I'll send it to Quinn. I'm sure he'll be happy to accept it."
She stood and picked up her folder. She held out her hand and he happily wrapped his fingers around it. It was smooth and warm, and felt wonderful in his hand.
"Thank you, Mason. It was nice seeing you."
"Thank you, Carley. It was nice seeing you, too. Next time you come to the Sandbar, please stop and say hi. I'll buy you a drink."
That smile. Wow, it shined brighter than the biggest star. "Thank you. That's lovely."
They exited the building, and he decided to step up and be chivalrous. He moved toward her car and opened the door for her. Her eyes met his and held for a few moments and he felt his stomach twist. He shouldn't be encouraging her. He really had nothing much to offer her, as damaged as he felt.
She gracefully seated herself in her car, and he closed the door. He moved to his truck, got inside, and blew out a deep breath. Whew, that was...something.