by Aimee Laine
In the hall, she took a moment to adjust her suit jacket and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Using the portrait’s glass reflection, she checked her lipstick and her teeth. Time to get a mirror for this hallway, too. One deep breath and another sigh later, she stepped into the lobby.
Lexi froze.
He stood at the door, one arm in a sling, his jeans drawn low on his hips, and a T-shirt stretched tight over muscles she’d had her hands on twice before.
“Tripp.”
“Lexi.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks; she’d never told him her real name. Except for the few arrangements of flowers which added color and fragrance to her office lobby, she didn’t hold the title of florist either.
“What are you … doing here?” Despite the air conditioning, Lexi wished for a fan as her embarrassment flashed through her entire body.
“I’m looking to buy a house.”
She angled her head to the side. “Where?” In an unconscious move, she wiped sweaty palms against her skirt.
He smiled, raised an eyebrow. “Here. In Rune.”
“Ah …” Lexi found herself at a loss for words. Why would he come here to buy a house? What about his fiancée?
Tripp’s gaze traced the room. “That’s something you can help me with, right? I believe your sign said real estate.”
An image came to mind of a house on the market for over ten years. The owners didn’t want to rush their sale. In fact, they’d agreed to sell only with Lexi as a dual agent and only when she found them the perfect buyer. On a number of occasions, Lexi showed the house just so she could walk through it, breathe in the scents of fresh baked breads and pies, and experience a place that called to her.
Dammit. I want that house! She clenched her fists but forced herself into professional mode—or tried to.
Tripp stepped toward her.
Lexi kept to her spot, refusing to back away from the barrage of emotions running through her body like sensory overload.
He took another step. “Are you willing to take me on?” A smile bloomed against strong cheekbones.
“That’s a trick question. Are you already otherwise engaged?” Hers held a double meaning, too.
“Yes and no. Why didn’t you stay?”
“My vacation was up. Duty called.”
Tripp’s grin remained as he moved even closer. “I was coming to get you.”
She closed her eyes as the burn of tears hit the back of her eyes. “It’ll never work.”
“One can’t know if one doesn’t try.” With his free hand, he removed the necklace from his pocket.
Lexi’s hands went to her hips. “How in the hell did you get my pendant … again?”
“You know it won’t matter if you get mad or call the cops because what’s done is done. This is a sapphire, Ms. Shepherd, and it should be around your neck forever and always.”
Lexi backed up as he advanced. “You broke into my house?”
“Only to show you who I am.”
“I know who you are. You know who I am. Which means you already know this will never work.” Her voice broke. “Go back to wherever you live, Tripp. I said goodbye once, and I meant it.” She pressed at a spot on her arm, the throb growing more intense the closer he came.
“Why are you rubbing your arm just there?” His brows drew together.
“It … hurts.”
“I see. But why right there?” He pointed to her arm, to his sling, and back to her again.
The dawn of recognition broke. “Oh, my god. I felt you get shot.”
7
Lexi spun away, marched toward her office and left Tripp in the lobby. She expected he would follow but hoped he’d give her the moment she wanted. In front of the hall picture again, her face reflected sadness and worry mingled with a deep desire and longing.
Hadn’t I already decided to go to him? She’d dressed, worked up her courage and walked down the stairs only to be sidelined by the rush of physical pain. With her hand over her chest, she closed her eyes and drew in a breath, the sensation receding.
“Contemplating life?”
She jerked at his voice. “No. Yes.” Her fists balled at her sides.
“All I want is a house, Lexi.”
She steeled herself and waved him forward. “Let’s go look in the system.”
“I don’t think you need to do that now, right? I mean, if you’re my antithesis, then I believe I’ve figured out the racket you’ve got going. It’s a great one, by the way. Sweet way to rake in the funds and keep it totally legit. I’m guessing that makes you one of those really … good girls.” The way he said ‘good’ made her want to melt into his arms.
Lexi crossed her arms. “And you … Tripp? Do you do anything … legal?”
“Most of the time.” His smile remained in place as the tingles in the tips of her fingers and toes grew.
“Hello?” Another voice called out with the chime of the door again.
At the proverbial ‘saved by the bell’, Lexi pushed past Tripp. “We can talk in a few minutes.”
She extended a hand toward the man. “Hello.” A plastered smile would get her through the torture. Lexi ignored the footsteps behind her and took in the man in front of her—light cocoa skin, deep sultry eyes and just as much muscle as Tripp, though in far more refined attire, including a green shirt the color of those eyes.
“How long did it take you to find a parking space, man?” Tripp’s chuckle had Lexi pulling back her hand.
“You must be Lexi. Ian Sands. I’m Tripp’s partner.” His eyes widened. “In business, I should add—for clarification purposes.” A small laugh followed with a cough.
Ingrained politeness pushed her to extend a formal handshake his way. “What can I do for you, Ian?”
“Nothin’ for me—”
Then he’s here with Tripp. Dammit.
“I’m just moral support.” He bobbed his head.
Another house popped into her mind. A bungalow out near Wheaton Farm, along one of Rune’s outer corridors. Why it would appear, if she didn’t search and he didn’t ask, she didn’t know.
“Would you care to join us? I was about to run through some options—”
“She was going to show me … the one.” Tripp nudged her shoulder.
Lexi huffed a breath and strode to her office. “Fine. I’ll show you the damn house.”
“She’s not so happy about a potential sale, is she? Kinda odd don’t you think?” Tripp’s tone bled with sarcasm.
Lexi smiled when the light slap Ian added to Tripp’s arm had Tripp cursing under his breath. She put herself behind her desk and pulled up records of houses she knew could work—if he would accept one of them.
She refused to give up the Fergs’ house—the one Lexi loved and which had appeared in her mind’s eye for Tripp.
Should have bought it yourself years ago, Lex. She’d hesitated for reasons she could no longer remember, and they’d never pushed her to buy.
Lexi turned the screen to Tripp. “This one is a two-story—”
“Nope.”
She sighed, scrolling to another option. “This is a charming ranch. It’s old and a bit of a fixer-upper, but the price is—”
“Uh-uh.”
“Might be a good investment.” Ian leaned toward the screen. “I should look into something like that.”
Tripp shook his head.
Lexi spun the monitor back to herself and switched to another window. “This one, you’ll love. It’s at the edge of a lake, surrounded by trees—” His stare broke her concentration. “What? I’m trying to find you a house … like you asked.”
“Show it to me.”
“Show you what?”
“The one you don’t want me to see.”
“Dammit. No. It’s not the right one. Sometimes I’m—”
“Don’t say ‘wrong’.” Ian dove into the back and forth. “Even I know you saying ‘sometimes’ is a waste of breath. Tripp here … he’s never wrong e
ither. Always right, and it chaps my ass on a regular basis.” Ian propped a foot on his knee and leaned back with his hands in the air as if he’d scored a touchdown.
“You don’t know me.” Lexi tried to rein in her anger, but the tone of her words betrayed her.
Ian popped forward again. “I don’t, you’re right. But I know this guy. If what he says is true, then boy the sparks are gonna fly. And I gotta say, it’s damn fine you’ve found each other because the blonde bitch needs to be put in her place.”
Lexi opened her mouth to speak but stopped as Ian continued.
“She’s all the while telling him what to do, or rather doing whatever the hell it is she wants so he’ll do what she wants. Or whatever the hell that means.” He waved a hand in the air. “But, dammit, I’m tired of sitting by and watching Tripp settle. Time for some challenge to his life. Now, show him the damn house.”
Lexi stared wide-eyed at Ian, unable to think or create any coherent thought. Instead, she clicked a single link—one she’d bookmarked for herself and reviewed daily, if not multiple times a day—and turned the monitor back to Tripp.
Dammit. I ought to go buy it right now.
• • •
Old. Tripp wouldn’t call it anything but. Two-story farmhouse on three acres, with a detached garage, two big red barns and a simple white fence around the perimeter. Tripp didn’t need to see more. He and the house had to meet.
“Will you make an appointment?”
Her sigh almost hurt. If she didn’t want him around, if it all went to hell, then he’d leave and sell the house. Otherwise, he wanted to see inside it.
“I don’t need to—just gotta call ahead.” Lexi picked up her phone, punched a few numbers, and after a quick conversation, looked him straight in the eye. “Marge is ready for us. It’ll take about twenty minutes to get there … maybe less. How about you guys follow me?”
“You two drive, and I’ll sit in back.” Ian jingled keys. “Tripp still has some issues, which means I did all the work getting us down here. I want a nap, and twenty will do.”
“Will it kill some of the personality, too?” Tripp’s quip bounced off Ian like a Nerf bullet.
“Nope.”
The three of them trudged to Tripp’s car.
“Are you serious about this?” Lexi’s tone, confused and curious at the same time, plucked at the strings that had lorded over him since his re-arrival in New York.
He slipped to the passenger seat as Ian slid in the back.
“You want me to drive your car?” Incredulity coated her question.
“You’re familiar with this area. We aren’t. And I like keeping my car with me. Besides, I’m not supposed to drive. Ian doesn’t want to, and … well … it’s a Jag, Lexi. Who doesn’t want to—”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll drive your damn car.”
“You know you secretly want to.” Tripp smiled.
“You guys chat all you want. Wake me up when we arrive—and don’t forget, either. It’s too damn hot to stay back here without air like some forgotten kid in the rear seat.” Ian tucked himself into the edge and closed his eyes.
Lexi slid the seat up, though Tripp thought her long legs would have reached. When she adjusted the mirror, he internalized the groan. He asked her to drive, forgetting she’d shift important equipment.
“Why are you down here?” The question came out expressionless as they drove away from her office.
“Because over a week ago, I’d already made up my mind to go get you—”
“Why?”
“If you’re quiet for more than two seconds, I might be able to give you the whole story.”
She zipped her lips, complete with invisible key, like a second grader promising silence.
“I was going to get you the night I was shot. I have no idea who it was, by the way. Apparently, someone called the cops—”
“Emma, my sister, did.” Lexi scrunched her shoulders up toward her ears. “Oops. Guess the zipper didn’t work very well.”
Tripp chuckled. “Guess not. Anyway, the nurse told me two women were outside in the waiting room. When she described them, you came to mind. Then Jill showed up with a friend, and I thought maybe you hadn’t come to check on me. But I saw you. Why’d you leave?”
She drove them onto a highway. “It wasn’t my place to stay. It was your girlfriend’s or fiancée’s or whatever you call her.”
“But you slept in the waiting room the entire night, didn’t you?”
She shrugged.
“Jill came in on the helicopter eight hours after she found out. Apparently, someone at the hospital recognized me, got in contact with her father and then he her. She waited until morning to check in. You didn’t.”
“So.”
Tripp blew out a breath. “You know, us finding each other has never happened before, right?”
“You don’t know that.” Lexi cringed as she turned to him, but shifted back to the road just as fast.
“Okay, no, you’re right. But let’s assume there were others like us. None of the mythology says they ever got together. Ever met. Nothing. Whoever had this gig before you and me, before them and before then, never found the other, or it would have been documented … somewhere. It’s like the mythological ‘find’ of the century.”
She continued on. “Or, let’s look at the flip side. If they did find each other, they realized what we already know … the stakes are too high. Give up before it gets trickier than it already is.”
“I don’t want to.” Tripp shook his head. “I honestly don’t know why—”
“Maybe because you like a challenge too much. I mean, you did steal my necklace … twice. Clearly you like the unlawfulness of your gift. What happens, then, if we figure out how to beat it? You going to give up part of your life and settle? You could have just done that with your beach girl.”
Trip banked the groan. He’d thought of that issue, too. He’d run through them all. Like Ian had said, he had a shot that no one else had. “If we can beat this, hopefully it means we have a shot at true happiness. And if we can’t, I hope we’ll each use it for good, not evil—at least against one another.”
A slight grin accented Lexi’s features. “You’re serious about this?”
“Completely.”
“He is, too. I heard the whole plan on the way down from New York and at every pit stop.”
“I thought you were sleeping, Ian,” Lexi said.
“I would have been if you two hadn’t started to agree with each other. I figured you’d fight for a minute, hit the silent treatment, and I’d be down for the count. But, oh no, you talk reasonably and respectfully. Shit. You two? You’re damn made for each other.”
• • •
Lexi pulled into the long curvy drive, passing the old farmhouse mailbox with the American flag tucked behind it and the watering can at its foothold.
“This is like an Americana painting,” Tripp said. “But it’s in desperate need of fixing up.”
“It’s my favorite of all houses.”
“The way you say that sounds like you’re madly in love with it. Why haven’t you bought it?”
“Hasn’t felt … right. The owners are in no rush. They love their home, and they’ve said a thousand times they’ll only sell to the right person.” I’ll be damned if it’s not going to be me.
“Why didn’t you ask them for yourself?” He touched her hand on the stick shift.
“Like I said—”
“Wasn’t the right time. I got ya.”
Gravel crunched under the wheels, blowing up a fog of dust along the unpaved driveway. Marge sat outside on the front porch, in her rocking chair, a pair of Basset Hounds keeping her company. Their long ears dragged along the ground as they shuffled their way toward Lexi’s car.
From within the house, George, somewhat overweight from all of Marge’s home-cooked meals, waddled out and took the second chair. Lexi found them in exactly the same spots every time she arriv
ed—no matter the time of day.
At the car’s front fender, Lexi knelt to rub Buster’s and Moxie’s backs. “Ooh, how are you guys today?”
The dogs licked her hands. Moxie gave one quick bark at the question as if she had to answer, but Buster leaned into Lexi’s palm. The constant swish of their tails built up a bigger cloud of dust right around them.
Lexi waved with her free hand, scratching with the other. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Fergs!”
“Afternoon, Lexi.” The squeak of Marge’s rocker, slow and steady, reminded Lexi of times gone by—when folks sat outside and enjoyed their time and didn’t rush from one place to the next.
“Come on, Tripp. Let me introduce you.”
Old, handmade lace curtains graced every window. The scents of fresh cut grass and sunshine, if Lexi could classify sun as a smell, followed the breeze. She stopped, closed her eyes, letting the moment engulf her. Relax, Lex, this is your house. The time will come.
Lexi shook off the emotion. “How are you today, Mr. Fergs?” She leaned down to him, offered a quick hug and repeated the same with Marge.
“I’m good, Miss Lexi. How about you?”
“I’m good, too.” She turned to Tripp. “I’d like to introduce you to Tripp Fox. He’s the … interested party I told you about on the phone.”
Marge positioned her hands on the rocker’s arms, pushed until she made it to her feet. Lexi put the couple in their eighties, maybe even nineties, if not older—she didn’t know and never cared to ask. One of the many photos in their entry showed Marge in a nineteen twenties style dress, though with the most recent return of the style, it could have been taken a day ago.
She held out her hand. “Mr. Fox … it’s so nice to meet you.”
Tripp took it, brought it to his lips and offered a kiss upon her wrinkled skin.
Marge’s cheeks pinked up like a school girl at her first dance. “Now that’s how you treat a lady.” She twisted to her husband who widened his eyes as if to say, ‘it’s been eighty years, why do you need more now?’
Lexi couldn’t contain her smile; she never could when she visited. The Fergs brought out the best in her. Her heart flip-flopped at the idea they would sell to Tripp.
“Let’s go in.” Marge shuffled toward the door as slow as Moxie, who padded her feet and swung her floppy ears.