I’m quiet for a moment because the thought of Michelle’s gramps not being able to live in his house anymore is damn sad. I hope the day never comes when we have to make that decision for our parents. But then I remind myself that Michelle’s parents should be the ones dealing with this, not her, but that’s a fight I gave up on long ago.

  I meet Eden’s eyes. “It’s a great house,” I tell her. “Solid construction. The old man took good care of the place. Real good. But unless the family’s done something in the last five years, and I’m guessing by that purchase price they haven’t, the interior needs a gut rehab. If you’re in the market for a fixer-upper, that’d be a safe investment. But if you want move-in ready…”

  Eden is quiet, but then she shocks the shit out of me by resting a hand over mine. Her touch is light and soft. “You’re divorced?” she asks. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

  I can’t tell from her tone if she thinks I’m still nursing a broken heart or if she’s digging a little for dirt. I hope it’s that second one.

  “Yeah,” I say. “My marriage was like your bathroom fire. Hot, wild, and over almost before it really got going.”

  Eden yanks her hand away and covers her mouth with a hand as she blurts out a laugh. “Vito.” She shakes her head. “You’re so unexpected.”

  I grin at her. “Well, it’s true. I’ll tell the story. I ain’t shy about it.” I cross my arms over my chest and kick my legs out in front of me. “I was a twenty-six-year-old hothead,” I start out, setting the scene for her. “I’m fighting fires by day, and at night, well, let’s just say I’m spending a lot of my nights off at The Body Shop. You know the place?”

  She shakes her head. “What is it? A fragrance store? Candles and soaps and stuff?”

  I crack a laugh. “Nah. We’ve got two Body Shops in Star Falls. The one where my sister works is a tattoo shop. Gracie, you met her, is an artist and the owner. My ex danced at the other place, under a stage name Exotic.”

  I watch as the emotions flicker across Eden’s face. Confusion, recognition, and then understanding.

  “You married a dancer?” she asks.

  I watch the flush creep up her neck. “It’s totally fine to say I married a stripper. I knew what she did for work, and I didn’t give a damn how she made her living. She didn’t do anything more than dance, even though I know she got offers, but she had big dreams. She wasn’t about to have a criminal record hold her back.” I think back on the good times I had with my ex-wife, and I have to admit that.

  She wasn’t bad at all until, of course, she decided to dance her way across my heart and out of my life.

  “We dated for two years, got married on a whim, and split one year later. And that was that.” I look down at my hands. I’m fine talking about it, but it seems weird to tell this woman who I’m just getting to know—and feeling no small amount of attraction to—that I was heartbroken when my marriage split up. “I loved her,” I admit. “But I learned pretty fast, love isn’t enough. Not to make a marriage work, that is. Funny, isn’t it? I guess families are the same too. I love my parents, brothers, and Gracie. And that love is enough. It can be too much sometimes. But that’s why I moved back in with my parents after the divorce. The world didn’t feel right without people around me who I could trust and count on.”

  Eden is quiet, and I wonder if I’m bringing her down.

  I tap my fingers against the table and motion toward the phone. “So, yeah, you want my ex’s grandfather’s house, put it on the list.”

  She reaches across the tiny space that separates us and covers my hands with hers. “I’m so sorry if seeing that house brings back painful memories. There’s no way I’d take you there even if I did want it. But I don’t. I don’t have it in me to rehab a house.” She nods toward Juniper. “She’s a very easy baby, but no baby is easy enough to raise in a construction zone.” She squeezes my hands and then releases them. “Thanks for sharing all that, Vito.”

  I nod, not sure what else to say. Almost everyone in town knows my history with Michelle. It’s been a long time since I talked about it. It almost feels good to. “Thanks for listening,” I tell her. “And not judging me. I married for the right reasons. I just picked the wrong person.”

  My words hang between us, and a slight shift charges the air between us.

  “So,” she says, swiping at her touchscreen. “What do you think about a ranch versus a two-story?”

  I offer to drive so Eden can look over the neighborhoods, the streets, even scanning for parks and things as we drive to each of the houses that have been set up.

  “Want to take my car?” she asks, bending down to lift Juniper into her arms.

  I look away from the view of her cleavage, but only after I get a nice eyeful. I’m respectful, but hell, Eden’s body is something straight out of my fantasies. I never thought of myself as a guy with a type before. I’ve dated skinny, toned women like my ex, women with a little extra junk in their trunk, tall, thin, dark, light. I don’t discriminate. But I also don’t ever stick around and get too close. Not since Michelle, at least. But if I did have a type, tall and lush with a rack I could bury my face in would be it, and that’s Eden.

  Fuck.

  I’d better concentrate on inspecting properties for hazards. Not inspecting Eden’s smoking-hot curves and dreaming of touching her.

  “Vito?” She meets my eyes, and I snap my wandering thoughts back to her.

  “Sorry,” I say. “Ready to go?”

  She follows me out the door, giving me a sexy smile as I wait for the hotel door to close behind us. Then, I turn and test the handle to make sure the electronic safety has engaged, and the door is actually locked.

  “You always like this?” she asks, accepting my silent offer to take the diaper bag from her.

  “Like what?” I ask.

  She is studying my face over the top of Juniper’s curly hair. “Attentive,” she finally says. “Thoughtful. Maybe safety-conscious?”

  I shrug. “I don’t think anyone in my line of work can avoid it.”

  She grows quiet, and I follow her to a brand-new SUV with Ohio plates. “I’m sure,” she says softly. “Do you mind driving my car? It’s a pain installing the car seat over and over.”

  I laugh out loud at that and lean maybe a little too close to her. “You realize that’s one of the services we offer?”

  She looks confused for a second but then bursts out laughing. “Is that true? Do people really come down to the fire station to make sure their car seats are safely installed?”

  “All the time.” I hold open the rear passenger door while Eden secures Juniper in the seat.

  “I don’t know why I thought that wasn’t really a thing,” she chuckles. After Juniper is buckled in, Eden turns to me and extends the hand holding the keys. “You sure you don’t mind?”

  I take the keys, and I’m damn sure she almost clasps my hands as she passes over an efficient silver ring with just one simple key fob for the car on it. It startles me a little when I realize she doesn’t have any other keys. No place to call home that requires keys. The hotel has cards for entry. She just lost her rental home. As far as I know, she has no job, but she does have money. I have so many questions about this woman.

  I do my best to shake off the quick brush of her soft skin as I take the fob. I roll my shoulders and hold open the passenger door so she can slide in. Once I’m settled and my seat belt is secured, I look back at Juniper. “Everybody ready?”

  Juniper is smashing a plush rabbit against her knees, and of course she’s securely belted in. Eden is too, so I adjust the mirrors and punch the address of the first house into my phone even though I don’t really need it.

  “Fancy,” I say, grinning as I plug my phone into the loose cable that connects my device to her car. “Your in-dash display is bigger than my parents’ television.”

  It’s a joke, and she laughs, which I love. She may have money, but she’s not weird about it. Which is great. I don’t give a shit if she’s got two cents to her name. A woman with a sense of humor and a low-key attitude is worth her weight in gold.

  As we drive, I point out the schools and parks and other little points of interest. Star Falls is a great place to live. Great people, beautiful land, big sky. I love it here, and it must show.

  “You sound like an official tour guide,” she says, but there’s a smile in her voice.

  “Small-town living,” I tell her. “Can’t beat it.”

  She’s quiet, staring out the window as we turn onto the street where the first house is. I know the area, but I don’t see a for-sale sign in any of the lawns or front windows, so I slow down to a crawl.

  “Did you ever live anyplace else? Ever want to live someplace bigger?”

  “Like Los Angeles?” I ask but don’t give her time to reply. “Nah.” I wrinkle my nose. But then I stop and really think about it. Something about her makes me want to dig a little deeper. Give her more of me. “Let me rephrase that. I would absolutely consider moving away from Star Falls for the right reason. I actually applied for a job at a bigger firehouse about a month ago.”

  “Yeah?” She turns fully in her seat to look at me, but then Juniper starts fussing. “We’re almost there, honey.” Eden turns in her seat to pick up the bunny that’s somehow been slingshotted deep behind the driver’s seat. She bends and twists, and I keep my eyes on the damn road, refusing to ogle her while she’s picking up her baby’s toy.

  Once Eden has the bunny, Juniper stops squirming, and I see a for sale sign up ahead about another half block away.

  “That looks like our stop,” I tell her. “Juniper, we’re almost there. You ready to look at a new house?

  “Yah, yah, yah.” In her excitement, she throws the bunny again, and it must land behind me, because Eden shakes her head and blows air through her lips.

  “Baby, we’re about to get out of the car. I’ll get your bunny in a sec,” Eden tells her.

  Juniper seems fine with that, so as I find a place to park on the street near the property, Eden asks me a gentle question. “But you didn’t get the job? Or you did and didn’t take it?”

  “Didn’t get it,” I say simply. “I’ll tell you what happened on the way to the next house. If you want to hear the boring story.”

  She nods, and I kill the ignition and offer the key back to her.

  “You hang on to it,” she says. “As long as you don’t mind driving to the next place?”

  I nod and jump out of the car. I run around and open the door for her, then stand by while she gets Juniper out of the back.

  “Ready?” I ask, locking the car and slipping the fob into the pocket of my jeans. “This could be your new home.”

  She looks nervous but excited, and she nods vigorously. “I’m so glad you came. Thanks for being here.”

  A wave of sweet warmth floods my chest at her words, but I just urge her ahead. “Come on,” I tell her.

  We walk up the drive, but we don’t even make it to the front door when a very stressed-looking woman meets us.

  “Eden?” She’s waving her hand and trotting down the concrete driveway in ridiculously high heels. As she meets us, I can’t help noticing that even in heels, she’s like six inches shorter than Eden.

  “Hi, Taylor.” Eden secures Juniper on one hip. Since I have the diaper bag, she’s got a free hand to shake the real estate agent’s hand.

  “So nice to finally meet you,” she says to Eden before turning her attention toward me. “You must be Dad.” She extends her hand.

  I chuckle and Eden’s about to say something, but I shake the lady’s hand. “What gave me away?”

  I’m not trying to horn in on Eden’s party or nothing, but if the real estate lady thinks there’s a man in the picture, who knows. Maybe the sellers will be more reasonable if they think some happy couples about to buy their dream home.

  Taylor steps a little closer to us and lowers her voice. Her bright-pink lipstick has smeared onto her front teeth, and she’s got a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. “I hope this won’t make you uncomfortable.” She tosses a look behind her toward the open front door of the house. “The homeowner was supposed to leave to let you view the place privately. It’s something we ask, but this homeowner won’t go.”

  I look at Eden for guidance on this. “You want to pass?”

  She bites her lower lip. “It’s really cute,” she says. “I’d like to see it. Do you think it’ll be too awkward?”

  “We’re fine. Eden wants to see this house, she’s going to see the house. It doesn’t bother us that the man is home.”

  I look at Eden. “You good?”

  She’s looking at me with the cutest expression of shock and something I can’t make out. But she nods.

  “Excellent,” I say. “Ms. Taylor, you good?”

  “I’m fantastic,” she says, looking relieved.

  “Then if this one’s ready,” I say, lifting a brow at Juniper, “then we’re solid. Let’s see this house.”

  The real estate lady turns on her super-high heels and rushes ahead of us toward the house. “Mr. Incandella,” she calls. “The family is here.”

  As I start to follow her up the drive, Eden rests a hand on my elbow. “Vito,” she says, those melted-chocolate eyes boring into mine. “I told her you were just a friend. I’m sorry about that. I think she just assumed.”

  I chuckle. “You think I care that she thought I had something to do with this?” I jerk a thumb at Juniper. “I’m freaking flattered. Now, come on. Let’s see this house.”

  6

  Eden

  The second we walk into the house, the homeowner appears wearing the world’s most aggressive scowl. I’m taken aback, honestly. He looks angry, and unless he’s being forced to sell his home for financial reasons, I can’t imagine why he’d greet a prospective buyer looking like he’s about to go off on us.

  “Uh, hi,” I say, “I’m Eden. Thank you so much for making time to see us today.”

  I hold out my hand, but he looks from me to Vito and then back at my hand. Then he reaches out and shakes mine. “Robert,” he says.

  Vito shakes his hand too, but stays quiet, letting me do the talking. I’m asking how long he’s lived here and wondering why Taylor isn’t saying anything. Suddenly, I see Vito shift from one foot to the other.

  “Do you mind if I take off my shoes?” Vito asks. “My mother would send me to my room without dinner if I wore my shoes in the house.”

  Taylor looks mortified, but immediately the homeowner’s shoulders soften a bit. I look down at his feet and see he’s wearing socks with pristine-looking open-toed house slippers just like the ones I saw Vito wearing the day we met.

  “Well, if it’s all the same to you,” Robert says, “I’d appreciate that. My wife…my, uh, late wife felt the same about shoes as your mother.”

  Taylor tries to get out of her shoes so fast, she nearly tips over. She has to hold on to the wall to wrench her bare feet out of those heels, but she does it, and she finishes just as Vito gets his running shoes off.

  He’s wearing the most hilarious socks, and I nearly snort. They must have been some kind of gift. I watch him walk up to me, staring at the truly ridiculous sight of a small Chihuahua lifting its leg to pee on a fire hydrant. I’m not sure if they’re making some kind of statement, but the socks keep me from being too distracted as the hunky firefighter comes close.

  Without saying a word, Vito points at Juniper’s super-soft baby slippers. “Come on, kid. This is another one of those no-shoes places. Don’t make a scene.”

  The homeowner, Robert, actually cracks a half smile at that and gives Juniper a wave. “Hello, there.”

  He seems awkward with her, so maybe not a grandpa himself, but I go through the motions and tug off her shoes and hand them to Vito. He tucks them into his back pocket, and then he holds out his hands for my daughter and, without a word, nods at me.

  I hand him my baby and toe out of my shoes. Once we’re all out of our shoes, Robert steps aside and lets the real estate agent bring us into the kitchen.

  There is a glossy, full-color listing sheet on the marble countertop, and she starts right in, pointing out features of the home and comparing what we can see around us to the stats on the printout.

  Vito hands Juniper back to me and stands by quietly with Robert while Taylor shows me the new fridge, the oven, and the double sink.

  “The kitchen was rehabbed just two years ago,” Taylor says. She’s droning on about the appliances being energy efficient, but I stop listening. I’m in love with this kitchen. It’s like the designer of my dreams put this place together. You can tell by the layout that the original kitchen was designed for a family. A built-in table with bench-style seats is in a nook on the rear wall of the kitchen and is surrounded by windows that look out onto a fenced backyard.

  The counters are white marble with wisps of bronze-gold running through them. The cabinets are a rustic-looking dark wood with matching bronze pulls, and the floors are a lighter wood than the cabinets, likely original but in great shape. The appliances are all stainless steel, which you’d think would clash with the bronze of the hardware, but I don’t care. This kitchen has tons of counter space and light. There’s even a little window box that could hold plants over the large farmhouse-style sink.

  I walk up to the sink and run my hand over the pristine porcelain. “This sink is so big, I could give Juniper a bath in there.”

  Junie leans out of my arms, trying to turn on the faucet, and I don’t try to stop her. I grab the handle to test the water pressure, and to my delight, the fixture has several settings to adjust how much water comes out.

  I know better than to act like I’m in love with this place in the very first room, so I look closely at everything I can. I flick the switches and watch the lights come on. I peek inside the fridge and oven… Sadly, they seem brand-new.