The one for you, p.21
The One for You, page 21
“The neighborhood hasn’t changed much,” he said, breaking the silence and shutting down his dark thoughts. “The trees are a lot bigger.”
Kincaid glanced over from the driver’s seat. “It’s still a good place to live. A lot of the houses have been remodeled, and it’s a quiet neighborhood. Plus, because the houses are older, first-time home buyers have a shot at getting a deal out here.” She turned onto his old street. “The Gomezes, the family I’m bringing the keys to, are buying that blue house a few doors down from your old place.”
“The Brownfields’ house?”
“Yep. It’s been fully redone and is going to make a great first house for this family. I’m really excited for them.” She slowed in front of Ash’s childhood home, letting him take a look. The paint color had changed and the garden had statues in it, but other than that, it looked the same.
Goose bumps prickled his arms, some sort of nostalgia mixing in with bad memories. He stared out the window. “It’s like looking back in time.”
“Same here.” She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “It used to hurt a little every time I passed it.”
He turned his head to look at her. “Why?”
She stared past him toward the house. “It’s going to sound weird because I know your memories there aren’t the happiest, but my memories of that house aren’t all bad. That’s the house where I snuck in and slept next to you all those nights. You made the world feel not as scary or lonely. It was my safe place.”
His chest constricted.
She met his gaze. “So all these years, not talking to you and being so angry, well, this house just reminded me of how things used to be and the best friend I’d lost.”
He tightened his grip on her hand. “KC.”
She smiled self-consciously. “But let’s not go down Depression Road. You’re here now. We’re friends again. And you’re back to sharing a bed with me. Guess that’s what they call a full-circle moment.”
“This is past full circle,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “I think we passed it at nudity. Last night was a little different than those nights we shared a bed here.”
She let out a quiet laugh and nodded. “It sure was. But either way, I’m glad I don’t have to be sad driving past this house anymore.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Me too.”
Her phone buzzed in the cup holder, and she slipped her hand from his to check the text. She sighed. “Looks like I’m going to need to go into the office this afternoon. My broker—my boss—wants to see me.”
“Everything okay?”
She frowned down at the text, distracted. “I’m sure it’s fine. But you may be on bookstore duty without me.”
“No worries. As long as you come by later, I’ll be able to make it through the day.”
She reached out and pinched his thigh playfully. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?”
“I cannot.”
“I know.” She gave a put-upon sigh. “You’re going to be ruined for all other women now. I apologize for being so awesome.”
He laughed, but the dip in his stomach made him wonder if there was more truth to her statement than he cared to admit.
Kincaid parked in front of the house a few doors down from his old place. An older model Ford Explorer was already in the driveway, and the moment Kincaid turned off her engine, two dark-haired kids, a boy and a girl, came rushing out of the back seat of the SUV.
He and Kincaid got out of her car and the little girl, who looked to be about seven or so, threw her arms around Kincaid’s waist. “Ms. Breslin! Ms. Breslin! Do you have them?”
Kincaid hugged the little girl and then bent down to get eye to eye with her. She pulled a set of keys out of her purse and held them out. “Oh, Daniela, you couldn’t possibly mean these, could you?”
The little girl snatched the keys from her with a squeal of delight and shook them at her younger brother. “Tomás! We have a house!”
The two kids raced up the sidewalk to the door as their parents headed over to Kincaid with pleased smiles on their faces. The mom, a tall Hispanic woman with long, wavy hair, embraced Kincaid warmly, and the dad, a few inches shorter than his wife but solidly built, shook Kincaid’s hand.
Kincaid touched Ash’s arm. “Mr. and Mrs. Gomez, this is my friend, Ash. He’s tagging along with me today.”
The couple greeted him, their excitement about the day clear on their faces, and then turned back to Kincaid. “Thank you so much for getting out here early. I think Daniela would’ve burst if she’d had to wait until the afternoon. She’s so excited about having her own room.”
“Mama, I can’t open the door!” Daniela shouted from the porch. “The key’s too hard.”
Kincaid swept her arm forward. “Let’s not make her wait another second.”
Mr. Gomez reached the door first and retrieved the key from Daniela. “Ready, little ones?”
The two kids bounced on their feet, and Ash couldn’t help but get swept up in their enthusiasm. Mr. Gomez opened the door, and the kids barreled in, all stomping feet and shouting voices as the adults followed behind. Ash entered last, trying not to get in the way. The house smelled of fresh paint and cleaning products, but everything was bright and airy inside. The wooden floors looked new, the windows were sparkling, and the baseboards were freshly painted white. A clean slate.
Mrs. Gomez put her hand to her chest as she looked around, and her eyes went shiny. She grabbed her husband’s hand, taking in the view. “It’s all ours, my love. Finally.”
The way he smiled at her, with such affection and appreciation, took Ash’s breath for a second. Mr. Gomez leaned over and kissed his wife. “Yes it is, mi alma.”
Ash caught Kincaid watching the couple, a tender expression on her face. She glanced at Ash and smiled before turning back to her clients. “Congratulations, you two. I hope you’ll make many happy memories here.”
The couple turned, smiling and thanking Kincaid for helping them find the perfect house, but before they could finish, Daniela was back and grabbing Kincaid’s hand.
“Ms. Breslin,” she said, tugging on Kincaid’s arm. “Come see my room.” She glanced at Ash. “You can bring your boyfriend.”
“He’s not—” Kincaid started, but she was helpless in the face of the little girl’s determination. Daniela was already pulling Kincaid down the hall. She sent Ash an apologetic look.
Ash chuckled and followed.
They stopped in front of a small room with a big window that looked out into the backyard. The walls were painted pale yellow. Daniela released Kincaid’s hand and then spun around in the middle of the room with her arms out. “Isn’t it soooo pretty?”
Kincaid beamed, clearly enchanted by Daniela. “It’s the prettiest room I’ve ever seen. How are you going to decorate it?”
Daniela stopped and considered, her little mouth pursing. “Like a princess castle? Or a unicorn cloud? Or, or, maybe a superhero lair!” She frowned. “Can I do all three?”
“A lair for a superhero unicorn princess,” Ash said. “That’s a winner.”
Daniela clapped and then went back to Kincaid to give her another tight hug. “Thank you for my room.”
Kincaid stroked her hand over the little girl’s silky hair. “I’m not the one to thank. Your mommy and daddy got this room for you. I just helped them find the perfect one.”
The Gomezes stepped up behind them, and Mr. Gomez put a hand on Kincaid’s shoulder. “You did more than that. You found the perfect house and got the price we could afford. We’re grateful for all the time you took with us.”
Kincaid patted his hand. “It was truly my pleasure. This is why I do this job.” She tipped her head toward Daniela. “Moments like this. Every little girl and boy deserves a room they can feel at home in.”
Emotion pinged through Ash at her words. Every little girl deserves a room they can feel at home in. Kincaid had never been given that growing up. Her room at her mother’s house had been one to survive in, not feel at home in. Now she made sure other kids had a different experience. Ash wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her right there, but that urge felt far too dangerous because it had nothing to do with sex or wanting her. He just wanted to kiss her for being the person she was.
A few more minutes of signing papers and taking care of a few things, and then she and Ash were leaving the Gomezes so the family could start living in their new house. Kincaid was quiet, her expression pensive, as they pulled away. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand. “You okay?”
She didn’t look his way. “I’m fine. They’re great, aren’t they?”
“They are.” He rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand. “I’m sorry no one ever gave you a room like that.”
Her shoulders stiffened a little, but eventually she glanced over with a soft half smile. “I told you, Ash. I had that room. It was just at someone else’s house.”
The words hit him in a place that made his chest burn. He was happy to know that he’d given her that place for a little while, but it only made it hurt worse to know how important his presence in her life had been to her. Because he’d left her. He’d taken himself and that room away, only thinking of himself and his own grief. “I’m sorry, KC. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you after…everything.”
She frowned his way and gripped his hand tighter. “None of that, okay? We’re not looking back, remember? The past is in the past.”
He nodded and shut up, but his brain didn’t stop going in that direction. The past was in the past. Maybe. But based on his nightmare last night, maybe not.
She turned out of the neighborhood. “Mind if I drop you off at the bookstore? I need to go home and change before I meet with my broker. I can’t face him in the same dress I was wearing yesterday.”
Ash smiled, but anxiety was still pinging inside him. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll get some work done.”
When she pulled up in front of The Stuffed Shelf, she leaned over and kissed him. “See you later?”
“Of course.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I’ll bring snacks.”
She laughed and nipped at his lip. “Smart man.”
* * *
Kincaid pulled into the parking lot of Postman Realty, and her phone rang before she could shut off her car. She groaned when Bethany’s name lit the screen. Ever since she’d bought the farmhouse before Bethany could put in a bid, Kincaid had been feeling like a terrible agent. She’d told Bethany the farmhouse wasn’t a good fit. A flat-out lie. Even if she didn’t like the woman very much, she’d always taken pride in being good at her job. Her role was to find the best home for her clients, not to jump in and snatch a house up before her client had a chance. She now was doubly determined to find Bethany the perfect home, but that didn’t mean she wanted to talk to the woman right this moment.
Still, she had a job to do. “Hello?”
“Oh my God, Kincaid,” Bethany said, talking fast and sounding oddly cheery. “You are such a sneaky bitch!”
“Uh…” Crap on a cracker. How the hell had Bethany found out about the farmhouse? “Pardon?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I called the office this morning and just happened to get that cutie pie Ferris on the phone. He told me that you had been holding back the juiciest information,” she said as if she were gossiping with her best girlfriend. “Girl. Why didn’t you tell me? Your lake house is going to be perfect! It is exactly what I’m looking for. Those windows and that view.” She made a sound that was the verbal equivalent of a swoon. “And oh my God, the kitchen! I will give you whatever you’re asking for it. Do not put that thing on the open market.”
Kincaid leaned back in her seat, stunned. “My lake house? Ferris told you about my house.”
“He is the sweetest,” Bethany said, her saccharine tone more over the top than usual. “When were you going to tell me about it?”
“Well, I, uh…” Damn, damn, damn. “It’s not on the market yet because I can’t move out for at least six months. The house I’m moving into needs to be renovated, so my current one is not ready to sell. And you need to be out of your place in two months. The timing doesn’t work.”
“Girlfriend,” Bethany said with a huff. “Get yourself a temporary apartment or a rental house or something. I need this house. Now that I’ve seen pictures, I’m not going to get it out of my head. You know I can give you the money you want for it. I’ll even pay a little extra to get you to move quick. Plus, if you sell it directly to me, you won’t have to go through that aggravation of having buyers tromp all over your house. It’s the perfect solution.”
Kincaid pinched the bridge of her nose. What in the hell was Ferris thinking? And how did he even get pictures? Did he use personal ones from when he’d come to her house for dinner parties? He knew she wasn’t ready to sell it yet. She needed a place to live. “Bethany, I’m so sorry, but I’m late for a meeting with my broker, and I’m going to have to call you back on this. My timeline is six months so I’m not sure we can make that work and—”
“Call me back,” Bethany said, cutting her off. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
The line went dead, and Kincaid stared at her phone in disbelief. After her meeting with Roger, she was going to have a come-to-Jesus talk with Ferris about sharing her private information with clients.
She headed into the office, which was quiet except for the chatter of Millicent, the office receptionist, who was answering calls. Two agents were there, bent over paperwork at their desks. Ferris’s desk was empty but his screen saver was still on, which meant he was coming back. Kincaid gave a little wave to her fellow agents and then headed to the back to her broker’s office.
Roger Postman had been the head of Postman Realty since his father had stepped down fifteen years ago. The agency had always been the most successful in town, but Roger had taken it over after the Long Acre shooting, and he’d had his work cut out for him when the market shifted. He worked hard to keep the business thriving and had exacting standards, but Kincaid had always found him to be a smart broker and a good manager. As long as they were bringing in steady commissions, he let the agents do their jobs without too much interference. When she knocked on his doorjamb, he looked up from his computer and frowned at her, making him look older than his fiftysomething years.
“You wanted to see me?” she reminded him.
He glanced past her into the main office and then waved her in. “Yes. Come on in and shut the door behind you, please.”
Uh-oh. She stepped inside and clicked the door shut, a pang of dread going through her. Roger rarely had closed-door meetings. This probably meant she was going to get a talk about her dip in sales. Postman Realty only wanted top-selling agents on the team. The last few months, she’d tumbled down that list. But she had talking points prepared to discuss the reasons and a plan to improve. She’d been anticipating this talk. All of them got it at one time or another. It was a feast-or-famine kind of job.
Kincaid took a seat in the chair across from his desk. Roger turned away from his computer to face her and tugged at his striped tie as if it’d suddenly tightened on him. She laced her fingers in her lap. “Is everything okay, Roger?”
He stared at her for a moment and then sighed. “No, unfortunately, it’s not.”
Her laced fingers clenched. “If it’s about my numbers, I have a plan—”
“It’s not about your numbers,” he said, cutting her off. “Those haven’t been great lately, but that’s not why I’ve called you in here.”
Her brow scrunched. “Oh. Okay. Then what’s going on?”
He flattened his palms on his desk calendar and looked to be steeling himself for the conversation. Foreboding filled her. He took a measured breath. “Kincaid, it’s been brought to my attention that you have violated our ethics policy.”
The words didn’t compute at first. She blinked, trying to process. “Wait, what?”
He cleared his throat, and his gaze shifted away.
“Is this about me buying that farmhouse before showing it to clients? Because I paid full price. I didn’t even negotiate. The seller got what they wanted.”
“No, it’s not that.” He sat back in his chair and twisted his wedding band around his finger, round and round and round. “Sam Caldone came in here yesterday afternoon and informed me of, uh, certain improprieties that happened during his home-buying process.”
A cold feeling crept through her. “Sam Caldone.”
“Yes.” Roger grabbed a yellow legal pad and flipped through a few pages. “He informed me that during the purchase of his ranch, you were acting as the seller’s agent. Is that correct?”
Kincaid could already feel the train coming, felt the rumble in the tracks. “I was.”
Roger shifted in his seat, still staring at his notes. “He also informed me that during this sale, you offered to get him a bigger discount on the price if he would, uh…” Roger flushed red from his collar up to his wide forehead. “If he would”—he cleared his throat again—“I’m quoting here. If he would ‘rock your world in bed.’”
Kincaid wished a trapdoor would open up in the floor so she could fall through it. Shame burned through her—shame and ugly, livid anger. Her hands trembled with the rush of emotion. She flexed her fingers, trying to center herself and stay calm. “Roger,” she said, voice steadier than she was feeling. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him, but I can assure you that nothing happened during the sale. I would never compromise my client’s needs for something personal like that. And I absolutely did not offer a discount or anything else in exchange for sex. That’s ludicrous.”
Roger’s gaze flicked upward, a hint of relief there. “So you’re saying you didn’t sleep with him?”
