2. River
RIVER
Jade Sweeny is not a certified appraiser.
I knew this five minutes after reviewing her video application. I didn’t serve as an intelligence officer in the Marines for nothing. And yet, despite this instant discovery, I not only offered her the job on the spot, I doubled her pay if she was willing to fly out to Wildwood the next day.
To my surprise, she eagerly agreed. The only condition: I allow her married friends to stay with her in the guest cabin.
“What the fuck am I thinking?” I grumble to my dog, Marty, as I hold the truck door open. The German shepherd hops in easily, claiming his usual passenger side.
I rarely drive into town unless I have to haul back more than a sack of groceries. Granddad’s cabin is less than a mile from downtown. But expecting my guests to drag their luggage up a steep hill would probably put a damper on this whole thing considering I advised them against a rental car.
“I’m so fucked,” I mutter, hopping in the truck and shutting the door.
Making impulsive, questionable decisions is not how I operate. They’re calculated, intentional.
Until Jade’s video application, I searched for the right appraiser extensively. But any legit candidates were booked for months, and the others I didn’t trust. With my household goods arriving next weekend, I need to make space. And right now, Granddad’s cabin has anything but space.
Marty hangs his head out the window as I roll down the steep driveway, taking in the fresh mountain air.
I’m not thrilled about the circumstances that brought me to Wildwood, but fuck am I happy to be in the only place I’ve ever considered home.
I’ve traveled the world during my time in the Marines, but nothing beats this quaint Oregon mountain town.
The fresh mountain air, the scenic backdrop, and the quiet—all things I longed for when I was overseas.
I spot Jade and her entourage huddled on the curb outside Latte Da! A pile of suitcases surrounds them, as though the trio plans to stay a month rather than the one week I’ve allotted for this assignment.
I wait for the annoyance to settle in, but what I feel is the exact opposite. It’s a thrilling, primal sense of mine.
Jade Sweeny is a fucking sight to behold in her oversized pink Oregon hoodie she no doubt picked up at the airport.
Tight black leggings show off her toned legs, making my mouth water.
Because I don’t want to sport a hard-on ten seconds after meeting Jade and her friends in person, I focus instead on how Marty’ll have those pants covered in his graying fur in thirty seconds flat.
“Stay here, boy,” I say to the pup as I pull into a parking spot nearby and put the truck in park.
He glares at me.
“I don’t know how they feel about dogs yet,” I say, as though we’re having a conversation.
Marty’s irritation is understandable, considering the first words out of Jade’s mouth are, “You have a dog?”
“You must be the cabin owner,” the other female says.
“River.”
“River,” she says, as though chewing over the unusual name. But before I can explain that my mom was about as big a nature lover as they come, the man at her side pipes up.
“My wife’s an author. Anything you do or say might be put in one of her books. I’m Josh,” he says, extending his hand.
“Can I pet him?” Jade asks, her sparkling green eyes fixated on Marty. He’s no longer glaring. In fact, he looks downright sappy. As though he’s already in love with her. With any other woman, that would annoy me. But with Jade, it makes some unrecognizable feeling fill my chest.
Happiness?
Nah. I don’t fucking remember what that feels like these days.
“Go ahead,” I say, nodding.
Marty has managed to roll his window down all the way, both paws hanging out the opening as he enthusiastically greets his new love.
“You’ll want to check her suitcase before she leaves,” the author friend warns. “She might try to steal your dog.”
“Noted.”
Because I seem to have an impossibly hard time keeping my eyes off Jade and the way she eagerly interacts with Marty, I busy myself with loading the luggage into the bed of the truck.
The last thing I want is her author friend meddling or figuring out I know damn well that Jade’s not an appraiser.
That’ll bring my motives for hiring her into question, and I don’t have the fucking answers right now.
How the hell would I explain that the moment I saw Jade’s angelic face fill my phone screen, I was fucking hooked? That the sound of her voice was enough to make me want to move mountains to get her here?
Never in my thirty-eight years have I ever felt that way about a woman.
I don’t know where this leads or if it leads anywhere at all. But the one thing I do know? I’m desperate to find out.