Chapter five #3
She scowls and says, “Oh, my opinion hasn’t changed. But circumstances have, and it looks like I'm stuck dealing with this town and its rabid geese much longer than expected.”
“First of all, geese can’t get rabies. And secondly, what circumstances?” I shove my hands in my pockets, struggling to contain my frustration. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer, given the timing of her arrival and what my brother told me yesterday.
“It looks like I’ve inherited a project,” she grates out, her eyes flashing with irritation. And, somehow, I find myself admiring her spitfire energy and the purse in her lips from irritation.
Stop looking at her lips, Dallas.
I shake my head and focus on making my case. “Well, what if I told you I could take this project off your hands?”
She twists toward me so fast, I think her head might spin off her neck. “What?”
“This house. That’s the project, right?”
“Yes…” she draws out hesitantly.
“I want it.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I widen my legs and stand my ground.
Her eyes bug out before a smirk flickers across her lips. “You want this house?”
“I do. And it’s clear that you don’t. So, if you sell it to me, it’s a win-win.”
“I can’t just hand it over to you. It needs a lot of work.” She waves a hand behind her.
“Well, you’re in luck. I will take it as is and fix it up myself. I’ll even pay more than it’s worth. If you sell it to me now, you can get back to your big city life that much sooner.”
She furrows her brow at me. “Why are you so set on this house?”
I let out a heavy sigh and answer honestly.
“Because it’s been my dream for years. And despite your disdain for this town, this is my home and this house is where I’ve wanted to live as long as I can remember.
I have the money for a down payment. It’s just a matter of drawing up paperwork for the loan and it’ll be done.
I just…” My words trail off as I search for the right words, but this woman’s face stays cold as stone.
I don’t see a glimmer of hope in those eyes, or in her stance—firm and unwavering. I feel like I laid my cards on the table too quickly. The silence stretches between us, thick with anticipation.
Then, cutting the tension sharply, she simply says, “No.”
Just like that, she smashes my dreams. My hands fall to my sides, like a toddler ready to throw a tantrum. “What? Why?”
She stays silent as we hold a stare-off. “Because you didn’t say please,” she replies, her smirk erupting into a full blown, clearly-pleased-with-herself smile.
With a heavy sigh, I roll my eyes and give the woman what she wants. “Please sell this house to me.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Still no.”
My patience snaps. “Why the fuck not?”
“It was given to me,” she says, letting out a harsh breath and shaking her head. “And even though I do plan on selling it eventually, I’m not in the position to make that decision yet.”
Fuck.
No wonder the previous owner never wanted to speak with me. This house wasn’t just a piece of property; it was a gift for this woman. Now the obscure name of the trust makes sense.
But I’m not giving up hope.
“You can’t be serious about wanting to fix this place up on your own.
Do you have even the faintest clue how to do that?
” My eyes dart around us, looking at the bones of the house and all of the potential here—potential that she could screw up by making the wrong decision or damage further with the wrong vision.
My blood is boiling with frustration the longer this conversation drags on.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Again, that’s not any of your concern. And a word of advice?”
My head pops up at her tone. “Huh?”
“The next time you want to ask for a favor, try not insulting the person beforehand.” She pops her hip out again, arching a brow at me this time.
“You’re one to talk, lady. You came into my restaurant with a stick up your ass, acting like you were too good for this place.”
Definitely not going to win brownie points with those words, Dallas.
Her gaze turns fiery. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just trying to help you out, despite the fact that you and I see things very differently, we come from completely different walks of life, and under that cold exterior, you clearly don’t have a heart.”
Her eyes blaze with anger now. “You don’t even know me!”
“I know you don’t belong here,” I say, and I’m surprised by the way she jolts as if I’d delivered a physical blow.
Her lips press into a thin line as we stare at one another, but she finally clears her throat and walks to the door, holding it open for me. “I think you should go.”
“Gladly,” I mutter. “This was clearly a waste of time.”
“No. It wasn’t.” I turn to face her as I step out of the house. “Now I know who I won’t be selling this house to when it’s finished.”
Fuck. “Well, maybe I’ll make sure everyone in town knows not to trust the seller,” I counter, feeling immaturity take over. Something about this woman makes me feel like a teenager, itching for a fight.
“Good luck with that.” She flashes me a tight-lipped smile as I walk out the door, and then slams it in my face as soon as I turn to have the last word.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I move away from the door, feeling her eyes on me through the windows as I walk around the porch and head back to my car, pissed off that I let this woman get under my skin yet again.
“HONK!” Behind me, geese start to gather and follow me down the gravel driveway. But hell, at this point, let them attack me on her property.
Maybe I’ll sue. Maybe I’ll use it as leverage. Because come hell or high water, I’ll find some way to get that woman to give up this house.
And find a way to get her lips out of my mind.