2. Chapter One
Chapter One
Christian
“ T his is so quaint.” I grinned as I examined the two-story white house with gingerbread accents. Well, the cut-wood trim probably had a more official name but, to me, the house looked like a gingerbread house would—only white instead of light brown.
Noah leaned against my SUV next to me as we surveyed our new home. We’d driven through the heart of Foggy Basin to get here—which had only been a few square blocks. This town was tiny. So much smaller than the town we’d come from.
This house stood on several acres of fenced, flat grassland.
Perfect for running a dog-training center.
Our landlady, a charming woman named Miss Esmeralda, had lived here her entire life, but recently had fallen, broken her hip, and been forced to move into a nursing home.
She knew she was likely never coming back to her childhood home, but she also couldn’t bear to part with it.
She had enough in her inheritance to cover her nursing-care home costs, but a little rental income would help ease things.
More importantly, she wanted to know her home was well-cared-for.
Two enterprising young men, one of whom was starting a business, were just the sort of tenants she was looking for.
Personally, I’d question two single dudes from out of state with no references, but something about me reassured her.
Or so she’d claimed during our three-hour marathon conversation while I’d been hunkered down in a cheap motel in Texas.
I’d tried not to let desperation leach into my voice.
Just…I promised Noah I’d take care of this. That everything would be perfect.
So it just had to be.
Because I was sort of in love with Noah and wanted the best for him.
Sort of? Sheesh, who are you trying to deceive?
Yeah, no two ways about it. I was head over heels in love with Noah Gainey.
“It’s better than I expected.” Noah tilted his head the way he always did when he was deep in thought.
“Miss Esmeralda did warn me it’s old-lady furniture and decorating, but that we could put the excess furniture and knickknacks in the attic or cellar.
” I sighed. “She knows she’s not coming back, and she’s still trying to figure out who will deal with her estate when she passes, but she’s got a few years left.
” Or so she maintained. Once we were settled, I would fulfill my promise to her and go visit properly.
We’d picked up the keys at the sheriff’s office where the man himself had given us a bit of a grilling.
Sheriff Clayton West was about forty, with brown hair and piercing blue eyes that saw everything and missed nothing. He gave us the lay of the land and made it clear we were expected to be law-abiding citizens, and respectful of all—especially Miss Esmeralda.
We didn’t mind the third degree. We had nothing to hide.
I held the keys out to Noah.
After a long moment, he took them. “This feels too good to be true. How do we know there aren’t bodies stacked inside? That the place isn’t coated in blood? Maybe human heads in formaldehyde jars in the basement?”
“You sure can be morbid.” I grinned. “The sheriff locked up the place after Miss Esmeralda went to the hospital. After having met the guy, I can confidently say he did an inventory of everything. And I mean everything. If so much as a doily goes missing, he’ll track us down.”
A laugh burst from Noah’s chest. “Okay.” He clutched the keys. “Doilies go in a box to the attic. I’ve hated your mother’s doilies since I accidentally spilled chocolate sauce on one when I was eight.” He pursed his lips.
Drat. I’d forgotten about that incident. Shouldn’t have mentioned doilies. I wracked my mind for any other potential triggers. The truth was, Noah was a sensitive soul, and when someone hurt him—whether intentionally or not—he felt that hurt down to the marrow of his bones.
Hence the reason Leroy’s cheating had been such a blow to my good friend.
Sunny days from here on out.
Noah pushed off my SUV and headed up the walkway to the house. He opened the gate, then held it for me. After I stepped through, he closed it. “We need to get into the habit of always closing it. I plan to go along the fence line carefully to ensure it’s intact. ”
“Of course.” I wasn’t going to point out the thing had only been installed five years ago. Miss Esmeralda had grown tired of rabbits eating her lettuce and carrots. Only some seriously determined dogs would be able to jump the fence.
We mounted the steps.
“I love this veranda.” I pointed to the swing for two. “I can’t wait to just sit and watch the sunset.”
Noah squinted as he pivoted to look out. “How do you know which direction everything is?”
“Google maps.”
“Ah.” He might’ve spent the last five years working on a computer as a bank teller, but he sure didn’t enjoy them otherwise.
I was always prodigiously careful not to point out that his phone was just a minicomputer. That wouldn’t have gone over very well.
He unlocked the door and gestured for me to go first.
Ever the gentleman . He didn’t always come across that way—especially with his potty mouth and cynical attitude—but he rescued kittens from trees, helped aging ladies across the street, and always gave due deference to his elders.
Well, most of his elders. He had no time for my parents and their shenanigans.
And I didn’t blame him.
The front hall was a little dark, so I hit the light switch.
The sheriff explained how he’d shuttered the place as best he could, so all the blinds were closed, the air conditioning had been turned off, and all the perishables removed from the fridge.
For which I was incredibly grateful. “Shall we open the drapes? Miss Esmeralda’s only been gone a couple of weeks. She used to have a cleaner come in once a month. Nice young fellow whom she highly recommends—”
“We can probably manage our own cleaning.” Noah gave me a once-over. “Well, I can. Do you even know how to hold a duster?”
“I’m assuming I hold the handle in my hand?” I raised my arm and purposely made my wrist limp.
He nudged me. “God, you’re an asshole.”
A comment at which I took precisely zero offense.
He loved assholes. Well, except when he didn’t.
Tone of voice usually gave me the direction I needed to know where he was headed with a thought.
“I’m capable of cleaning.” I hadn’t…but that didn’t mean I couldn’t learn.
“Although I will be occupied finding employment.” I stalked into the parlor and threw the drapes open.
Huh. Not as much dust as I expected.
“What employment are you planning to seek?” Noah followed me in. “You’ve been a junior executive in your family’s company since finishing business school. I don’t know how many executive jobs there are in Foggy Basin.” He eyed me dubiously, with a little furrow between his brows.
“I’ll cope.” I grinned. “I always land on my feet.”
The furrow deepened.
“What?” I stepped closer to the very floral pink- and-white sofa. And eyed the side table with its shocking amount of lace in the cloth.
“You’ve never had to struggle, Christian.” He rubbed his face. “Which is why I don’t understand why you’re doing it now. I mean, how much money were you able to bring with you?”
I squinted as if I was doing some quick math in my head. “Enough for a few weeks.” I crossed my fingers at the blatant lie. “I’ll need to find employment straight away, but I don’t believe that will be difficult. This town has a robust service-and-goods sector.”
“A what?”
“I plan to get a job in a store. ”
He blinked. “Doing what? You think they’ll just make you a manager?”
“Of course not. I intend to work as an employee. Cashier, or greeter, or sales assistant.” I tilted my head as I examined a table lamp, trying to find the switch. Oh, as part of the cord. Well, why not? “Why don’t we check out the dining room before proceeding into the kitchen?”
“You’re as formal as this house.” Noah nudged me. “Yeah, we can do that.”
He’d been teasing me for twenty years about my formality.
Still, my parents had ingrained in me that Carters behaved a certain way.
That much was expected of them. And I’d done everything I could to meet those expectations.
Even going so far as to remain at home until I married—so as to not be living a profligate life.
Well, you can see how well that went.
My parents had, collectively, left about twenty-two messages on my phone.
I need to get a new number . The few acquaintances whom I trusted to not share that new number would receive a text before I shuttered the Tennessee number entirely.
Noah’s phone had, to the best of what I could see, been silent.
Hope he blocked Leroy.
My friend didn’t need that riffraff in his life.
The formal dining room stunned with its elegance and a table that sat twenty.
Noah caught my gaze and arched an eyebrow.
I grinned. “We’re going to have so many friends that they won’t all fit at the table.”
He snorted.
Of the two of us, I’d always had more faith in positivity.
Which, given my family’s predicament, I really wasn’t entitled to.
“I believe this room will require much dusting.” I moved to the china cabinet that bore a stunning blue-and-white Delft pattern on display.
“I don’t recall Miss Esmeralda mentioning she had Dutch heritage.
Somehow…” I considered. “I figured she would have…”
“Floral?” Noah pointed to the large canvas of a vase overflowing with pink roses.
“She painted that.” I grinned. “She’s an accomplished painter and, to the best of her memory, she has at least six of her paintings displayed. Another eight or ten are in the attic. She likes to rotate them. Oh, we must find those and honor the tradition.” Excitement grew within me.
“Are they all—” Noah tilted his head. “Pink?”