Chapter 22
Kade
The house was just outside Mayridge, tucked behind overgrown trees and a long, winding drive that hadn’t seen regular traffic in years. I pulled my truck up behind a sparkling clean grey Mercedes, the kind that screamed money and vanity in equal measure and would look off in a town like this one.
The client was already there, standing on the front steps, hands in his pockets like he owned the place—which, technically, he did.
“You must be Kade,” the man said, stepping forward with a grin that looked like it had been practiced in a mirror. “Appreciate you coming out.”
I shook his hand, firm grip, too confident. The guy was well-dressed, especially for someone talking about knocking down walls and replacing old plumbing.
“You said you just closed on this place?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
“Yeah. Needed a change of scenery.”
I watch him for a moment. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who’d choose a place like this.
Everything about him—his sharp suit, clean shoes, the expensive watch half-hidden beneath his cuff—screams money.
And the way he glances around at the surroundings, like the trees themselves offend him, tells me this isn’t his idea of a dream home.
“You an investor?” I ask, more curious than I probably should be. “Planning to flip it?”
“I’ll definitely be flipping it,” he says with a smirk. “Just not sure when yet.”
I nod and let it lie.
Inside, the house smells like dust and stale air. I pull out my notepad and start jotting down the usual suspects, cracked drywall, outdated fixtures, floors that creak like they’re hiding secrets.
Running a hand along the hallway wall, I pause at a long, splintering crack. “This’ll need some serious attention. It’s holding for now, but if you’re thinking long-term, you’ll want it reinforced.”
He barely acknowledges me, still moving through the space like it’s a formality. No real questions. No comments. I’ve worked with all kinds of clients over the years, but this is the first time I’ve had one so completely uninterested in the work recommended to him.
My curiosity wins out.
“So… you got a wife or family moving out here with you?” I ask, watching for a reaction.
“Fiancée,” he corrects casually. “And yeah, eventually. For now, it’s a surprise. Gotta keep them guessing, right?” He laughs, but it feels a little too rehearsed.
We finish the walkthrough in the kitchen, where the cabinets are warped and the tile’s coming up along the back wall. I snap a quick photo, more out of habit than anything else.
“That’s about it,” I say, closing my notebook. “I’ll work out a price and have Liv send over the quote to you by the end of the week. She handles all the admin for us.”
His head tilts slightly. “Liv,” he repeats, letting the name hang in the air a beat too long. Then he smiles—something slow, deliberate. “Looking forward to hearing from her.”
Something sharp and sour prickles in my gut.
It’s not what he says. It’s how he says it, like her name means something to him. Like he’s been waiting to hear it.
I keep my face neutral, professional. But inside, something flares. Protective. Irritated. Not a feeling I have any business entertaining, not here. Not with a client.
I nod once, clipped. “We’ll be in touch.”
He says nothing else, just walks toward his Mercedes with that same quiet, casual confidence. Like he’s got all the time in the world.
I don’t watch him leave. I just head to my truck, jaw tight, already wanting to scrub this whole visit from my day.
I tap my Bluetooth as I turn back onto the main road, gravel crunching under the tires before it fades into pavement.
“Hey,” Brandon answers. “You done for the day?”
“Just wrapped up a site visit,” I say, hesitating for a second, fingers tapping the steering wheel. “Something weird, though.”
“Weird how?”
“This new client—bought that old place off Elson. Said he wants a full reno but didn’t care about any of the usual stuff. Barely looked at the house.”
“Out-of-towner?”
“Yeah. Real polished type. Doesn’t fit out here.” I pause before adding, “What was his name again? I didn’t write it down, but he would have told the office when he booked.”
Brandon hums. “Hang on, let me check the intake forms… here—Glen something. Glen Woods. Sounds more like a gated community than a guy.”
I chuckle, “Trent will love this one. He’ll just pay the bill. Doesn’t seem like money is an issue.”
“Sounds good. I’ll get Liv to check the diary for availability.” Brandon adds.
“I’ll have the quote ready before the end of the week so she can send it over.”
I hang up and, not for the first time today, my mind drifts to Liv. I haven’t really seen her since our date—just a few passing moments in the office between meetings and job site runs.
Work’s been nonstop lately, and I know Aubrey’s been hogging most of Liv’s attention. Dragging her to the Bakery for “essential girl talk”—her words, not mine. Not that I mind. I love that Liv has a good relationship with my sister.
I shake the thoughts off as I head home, the late afternoon sun already starting to dip. The quiet of my house greets me like a sigh, the kind that settles in your chest after a long day.
I shower, letting the hot water wash the hours from my skin, the meetings, the phone calls, the way Liv’s name stuck in my mind like a note that wouldn’t stop playing.
Afterward, I sit at the kitchen table with a beer in hand and get to work on the quote.
I want to make sure it’s done before Friday.
Before I turn in for the night, I shut the laptop, leaving the quote sitting in drafts, and stretch the tension from my shoulders.
Work can wait. I’ve done enough for today.
I head upstairs, the floorboards creaking softly beneath me as I move through the quiet. I flick on the bedside lamp, plug in my phone, and sit on the edge of the bed for a minute, not quite ready to sleep, not ready to think too much either.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I send her a message.
Me: Hope you had a good day. Is it weird that I missed you?
Liv: It’s not weird. I missed you too.
Me: Night, Liv.
Liv: Sweet dreams, Kade.
I stare at the screen a little longer than I need to, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
Then I set the phone down, kill the light, and lie back. Letting the dark settle around me.