Worth Loving (Paradise Place #19)

Prologue

“Thanks for meeting me on short notice,” Dean Easton said as he stepped into the realtor’s office.

“No problem. That’s my job. I’m Ruby Turner. Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand. Firm. Professional. “I’ve actually been to your bar a few times.”

“Oh, yeah?” His brow lifted. “What’d you think?”

“It’s interesting. Took me a minute to connect the name. My husband figured it out first. Pulse. All the heart paraphernalia on the walls.”

He laughed. A short, sharp sound. His private joke. Or maybe a middle finger aimed squarely at his grandfather.

The renowned cardiac surgeon.

The man who still dangled a trust fund like a leash.

Was Dean smart enough to follow in his footsteps?

Fuck yes.

Driven enough?

With the last name Easton, drive was practically genetic.

But he’d carved his own path. Bled for it. Built something that was his with no scalpel and no legacy strings attached.

“It works,” he said with a shrug and a smile.

His laid back personality was just another thing that set his grandfather off.

Too damn bad. He wasn’t changing who he was just because of his last name.

And even if his bar didn’t succeed, it wouldn’t matter. He’d chosen it.

He’d made it his.

“Seems to be working well for you,” Ruby said, turning to her computer. “So, you’re looking to buy a house?”

Not something he’d planned. Not something he’d wanted.

Not another responsibility to carry, but that was nothing to what was coming around the corner at breakneck speed.

But the life he’d been living? That clock was done running.

Bachelorhood was going to be a thing of the past.

“Yeah. A residential area. Something quiet. Ideally with an in-law suite.”

Her fingers paused, then resumed typing. “Anything specific? Like size, upper, lower floors. I’m not sure if you have limitations.”

“Preferably not in a basement. Maybe behind a garage. Or a separate structure. Their own entrance. I guess privacy from their life and mine.”

She winced. “That’ll be tough. Would you consider building? Or adding on?”

He thought of the money sitting in accounts he pretended didn’t exist.

The inheritance waiting in the wings.

And the woman who’d just detonated everything he’d built.

“Money isn’t the issue,” he said flatly. “Time is.”

Ruby looked up. “What kind of timeline are we talking?”

He exhaled. Slow. Controlled. “My son will be here in four months. I need space for a nanny. I can’t step away from the club for too long.”

Because he was staffing up. Because he’d be working earlier, longer, harder.

Because none of this was optional.

“Okay,” she said carefully.

He didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need the whole story, just his signature and funds. He had plenty of it.

“I want to stay in Colonie. Close to the bar, but not Albany. I’m not sold on the school district there.”

Words he never thought he’d say. Ever.

But if he was doing this, he was doing it right.

“Paradise Place might work,” Ruby said. “It’s a great development. I live there, so I know it well, on top of having a good relationship with the Butlers who built it. If you weren’t in a rush, I’d suggest building from scratch.”

“None of this was planned,” he muttered. “Life has a way of throwing me off course.”

She laughed. “Don’t I know it. But if you’re open to adding on, as I said, I know the Butlers well, they’ve built all the homes there, so they’d be good to do any other work.”

Something more to think about.

“I might have to hold you to it if you’ve got pull to get it done faster.”

She laughed at what she thought was a joke. It wasn’t.

She turned the laptop toward him. “There is one listing. No in-law suite, but a finished walk-out basement that could be converted by adding a kitchen. The other option is that there is space behind the garage, and you might be able to build out that way.”

“Better than nothing,” he said. “If I can even find childcare willing to live there.”

Another item on a list that hadn’t existed a week ago.

The house was newer than he had expected. Two stories. Clean lines. Solid.

“Hmm,” Ruby said. Nothing more. Not like he expected her to say anything.

“I can make this work,” he said, swiping through the pictures in front of him.

Primary bedroom on the first floor. Four bedrooms upstairs. Not ideal for a newborn, but later? He’d want the distance.

Which was insane, considering last week he’d been dodging women at the bar and arranging drink specials for an upcoming event.

“Let me see if I can get you a viewing today,” Ruby said. “Possibly within the hour.”

He checked his watch.

Like everything else lately, he said, “I’ll make it work.”

Because choice was a luxury he no longer had.

The clock was already ticking.