Almost Like Being in Love

by Beth K. Vogt

  With a mumble, she buried her face in the pillow.

  He crouched beside her, raising his voice in an attempt to break through her drugged sleep. “Are you hungry? I brought you some lunch.”

  Her lids flickered . . . open . . . shut . . . open . . . revealing bloodshot eyes that held no glint of recognition. “Wha—?”

  “Are you hungry?”

  She closed her eyes, lifting her hand in a feeble attempt to push him away. “No . . . go away . . .”

  Alex rose to his feet. Covered his mother with the top sheet. Best to let her sleep it off. She wouldn’t remember he was there. And if she did wake up, she’d only get herself all worked up again, talking to him—and then drink more once he left. He knew the routine well. All too well.

  Once in the kitchen again, he drained the third bottle into the sink and then threw it in the trash, the rattle of glass too loud in the silence that lurked in the house. Grabbing a piece of paper, he scrawled a note and left it on the counter, letting his mother know he’d left the salad in the fridge.

  Crisis averted. Again. He’d report back to his father. He could call Caron and ask her for prayer. But he wouldn’t. Not when she was already so stressed. This kind of day with his mother was nothing new. They’d talk later tonight and she’d know just what to say. At times like this he realized how much he loved her. Needed her. This was one of the reasons they were so right for each other. She knew his secrets. Kept his secrets. Loved him in spite of his secrets.

  SIX

  Kade could either ignore the growling of his stomach until he got home and scavenged through the few leftovers in his fridge, make himself a protein shake, or stop and grab something to go and reheat it.

  A guy had to eat.

  He merged into the left-turn lane leading into University Village, mentally scrolling through restaurant options. Tokyo Joe’s. Which Wich. Chipotle. Panera. Noodles & Company. Or he could just drive through Starbucks . . . but his body demanded something more than sugar and caffeine topped off with cream.

  Chipotle. He’d grab a burrito and an iced tea, and get back on the road in less than ten minutes.

  After circling the crowded parking lot twice before finding a parking space, he resigned himself to the reality that his wait at Chipotle might be longer than he’d prefer. He moved between cars, his thoughts scrolling ahead to the work waiting for him at home. He needed to check in with Mitch. Touch base with Eddie Kingston . . .

  He stopped midstride as the driver’s-side door of a white sedan swung open and a woman with short brown hair and sparkly earrings that almost reached her shoulders stepped out.

  “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there—” The woman apologized with a light laugh that ceased altogether when she saw his face. “Kade!”

  “Hey, Margo, what are you doing here?”

  “Um . . . I’m going to dinner with—” She removed her tortoiseshell sunglasses, her gaze tracking left as someone else stepped out of the passenger side of the car.

  Caron Hollister.

  The woman gripping the roof of the car was Caron Hollister. Light brown hair that hung past her shoulders. She must have abandoned the blonds-have-more-fun motto. Hidden behind a pair of pink retro sunglasses as they were, Kade couldn’t see her brown eyes, the same color as a smoky topaz gemstone. She offered him the smile of a professional Realtor. Businesslike, but with just a hint of practiced charm.

  “Kade.”

  “Caron’s visiting me this week.” Margo rushed into the looming silence. “Taking a few days off after—”

  “Just taking some time off.” Caron shut the car door with enough force to rock the car. “We’re having dinner at Hacienda.”

  “Nice choice. I like their fajitas.” Kade could maintain a casual tone, too, as if running into Caron Hollister, who should be two thousand miles away from here—and who was two years in his past—was a normal part of his day.

  “We’ll keep that in mind.” Margo took a few steps back.

  “Did you see the e-mail I sent you?”

  At Kade’s question, Margo stopped, sparing a quick glance at Caron, who waited by the front of the car. “No. We’ve been out and about all day. Garden of the Gods. Glen Eyrie. That sort of thing. I haven’t checked my e-mail that much.”

  “I found a few new listings I thought you and Ronny might want to look out. Let me know what you think.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “We can take a look at them later this week if you want to—”

  “I’ll have to check with Ronny. And Caron is here until Sunday night.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Margo.” Caron raised her voice to be heard over the sound of a passing Harley. “I can entertain myself if you want to go look at some houses.”

  “Just text me. Whatever works.” Kade nodded at Margo, then Caron. “Ladies. I’m off to get dinner. Enjoy yourselves.”

  • • •

  He’d tossed the white Chipotle bag into the passenger seat of his SUV, secured the cup of iced tea in the holder, and cranked up the radio, the lyrics to “What We Ain’t Got” filling the car—until he twisted the knob and silenced the song. Dinner would be cold by the time he got home, but so be it. Any food he dropped or dribbled, he only had to clean up later.

  Not worth it.

  His phone rang and he connected to the in-car Bluetooth before it had a chance to ring a second time.

  “Kade Webster, Webster Select Realty.”

  “Hey, boss.”

  “How goes it, Mitch?”

  “It’s been a productive day. Although it is good to get my legs off and get back in the wheelchair—”

  “Really, man? When are you going to stop saying stuff like that?”

  “Hey, the things make me more mobile, but after a while they get old.” Mitch laughed. “Gotta have a sense of humor, right? Anyway, I got a good offer on the property out in Falcon.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Lacey told me to call you, see if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

  “Your girlfriend is determined to feed me. Thanks for the invitation.” Kade maneuvered the car onto I-25 heading north, allowing other cars to go ahead of him on the on-ramp. He wasn’t in a rush. “But I picked up a carnitas burrito from Chipotle. I’m good.”

  “You sure? A burrito will keep. Have it for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but tell Lacey I’ll take a rain check this time.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Sure.” He debated saying anything more and then continued. “I ran into Caron Hollister earlier.”

  “Caron . . . Hollister? The Caron Hollister?”

  “One and the same.”

  “She lives in Florida—”

  “She’s visiting Margo Owens, who happens to be one of my clients. I saw them in the University Village parking lot. They’re going to dinner at Hacienda.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. I saw her.” Kade tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel, stuck behind a slow-moving U-Haul van hauling a Jeep. “I’m not even certain we managed a formal hello and goodbye.”

  “If Lacey were in on this conversation, she’d ask how you were feeling.”

  “But she’s not. And I’m fine. A bit surprised to see Caron on my turf . . . but fine. According to Margo, she’ll be gone in a few days.”

  “Then let’s get back to talking business, shall we?”

  “It beats talking about old girlfriends. Let’s leave that to the country songs.” Kade signaled, moving to the left lane to pass the U-Haul. “I know how to sell houses. Caron Hollister? Obviously I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.”

  SEVEN

  Quitting her job had its perks.

  Caron slipped into a jewel-tone swing tank that complemented her khaki capris. A few days of sleeping in, several shopping days with Margo that might require her borrowing a second suitcase to get everything back home, hiking through Ute Park—she was beginning to remembe
r how to relax.

  “You dressed?” Margo rapped on the door to her small guest bedroom and then walked in.

  “Hey! How about giving me a chance to say yes or no?”

  “But you’re dressed.”

  “But I might not have been—oh, never mind. Honestly, you’ve reverted back to acting like we’re living in a dorm again.” Their laughter blended together as she selected a pair of gold hoop earrings from her zippered jewelry case and Margo stretched out on her bed. “So, what’s on the schedule today?”

  “I thought we’d keep it low-key, since we’re heading to Telluride tomorrow.”

  “You know we don’t have to do that.”

  “Oh, yes we do. You’re going back to Florida to tell Alex you won a destination wedding in Telluride, right? You need to see the area so you can tell him how beautiful it is.”

  “I certainly haven’t figured out how to tell him over the phone that I won a wedding.” Caron slipped on the first earring. “I’m not sure what he’s going to say when I come home and tell him that I brought him a destination wedding back from my impromptu vacation. I think he’ll be expecting something more along the lines of a Colorado T-shirt or a key chain.”

  “Like you’ve never done something surprising, Caron? Remember, Alex knew you back in high school when you went through your various fashion stages, including a toned-down Goth girl, skater chick, and finally settled on the award-winning athlete.” Margo gave her a quick once-over. “I bet you go to bed at a decent hour every night now, don’t you?”

  “Trying to fit in at Hollister Realty.” She finished with the second earring and did a quick bend-over-and-back-up to flip out her hair. “Be more of what my dad expects from one of his employees.”

  “Well, even with the conservative hairstyle and clipping your nails short, that doesn’t mean you’ve clipped your wings, does it?” Margo rolled over on her back and sat up. “You’re still allowed to be yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Of course. Off hours.”

  “Huh. If I know you, those are few and far between—for the same reason. You’re trying to keep your dad happy.”

  Keeping her father happy. It’s what she did best—or rather, what she’d tried to do for so many years, it came easily to her. And yet here she was, unemployed. She wasn’t as good at pleasing her father as she thought.

  “Can we get this conversation back on track? What are we doing—”

  At the sound of her cell phone in the other room, Margo bolted off the bed. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

  She returned ten minutes later, phone in hand, her red-tinted lips twisted and her well-thinned eyebrows furrowed.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” She slumped onto the edge of the bed. “That was Kade. He called to tell me that we could go see one of the houses he found a few days ago. He has an appointment set up today. At noon. But I told him I couldn’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re here, obviously. We have plans.”

  “Today’s our low-key day. I can hang out here while you’re gone. Go ahead and see if it’s something you and Ronny would like.”

  “I don’t want to leave you alone here.”

  “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

  Now why did she say that? Seeing Kade for even those brief, barely-say-hello moments in the parking lot had unsettled her. The man’s black hair, his broad shoulders, his brown eyes that she’d recalled even though they’d been hidden behind his dark sunglasses—how easily she remembered the man’s attractiveness. Why was she offering to be in the same room—the same house—with him?

  Because she could tell her friend was torn—wanting to go check out the house but not wanting to abandon her.

  “You will?” Margo had every right to sound surprised. “You’d have to see Kade Webster again.”

  Caron scrambled for an answer. “I won’t have to see him that much. I’ll look at the bedrooms while you and Kade tour the living room and kitchen. Then we switch. It’ll be fine. Then you and I can go have lunch or something. Go ahead and call Kade back and get the address. Tell him we’ll meet him there.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, I’d like to go see the house—”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “All right.” Margo started pressing numbers on her keypad. “I’m calling Kade now. If you’re going to change your mind—”

  “Not changing my mind. Make the call. I’ll start the coffee. And I hope there’s time to grab a quick breakfast.”

  “Hello, Kade, this is Margo.” Her friend turned so that Caron was staring at her back. “Have you canceled that appointment yet? You haven’t? Good. I want to keep it.”

  • • •

  All he needed to do was walk Margo through the house—and ignore Caron Hollister.

  Kade would concentrate on his client, highlight the assets of the three-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath house in Rockrimmon, and be ready to answer Margo’s questions. Caron wasn’t his concern. She hadn’t been for two years.

  Both women waited behind him as he removed the key from the metal lockbox around the doorknob and gained entry to the house. Caron allowed Margo to precede her into the house, disappearing down the hallway to the bedrooms as Kade began listing the advantages of the open-concept living room/dining room area.

  An eighteen-hundred-square-foot house should be big enough for both Caron and him to survive in for the next half hour.

  “It’s an older house, but they’ve remodeled the kitchen.” Kade deposited his business card on the kitchen counter. “And put in new wood floors. Both bathrooms are updated, too. And, thanks to the last hailstorm, there’s a new roof.”

  “I like the stone fireplace in the living room area.” Margo did a slow turn. “Are those countertops Corian?”

  “No, high-quality Formica. They’ve improved the product quite a bit.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed Formica.”

  “There’s a decent backyard, too. It’s xeriscaped so it doesn’t require too much upkeep or watering.”

  “That’s good. Ronny and I both like yard work, but we don’t want a yard that costs a lot to keep up.”

  The house showed well. No lingering scents of cigarette smoke or pets, which were both immediate reasons to say no for a lot of his clients. No odd paint colors that he had to help potential buyers overlook, reminding them how inexpensive it was to paint.

  They met up with Caron as she exited the bathroom off the master bedroom.

  “I wouldn’t label this an en suite, but it’s still a good size. It’s large enough that you could replace the single sink with dual raised glass bowls. Maybe paint the bathroom a classic gray. New light fixtures will make a difference, too.” Caron pressed her lips together, raising her hand. “Sorry. Kade’s the Realtor here, not me.”

  “But I want to know what you think.” Margo’s gaze switched back and forth between Kade and her friend. “You’re Ronny’s stand-in.”

  “We can always talk afterward. I’ll let Kade do his job.”

  “I’m interested in your opinion, too.” The comment escaped before he realized what he was going to say. Caron always had a way of casting a design vision for a house. “Realtor to Realtor.”

  Caron’s eyes widened at his statement. “It seems to meet Margo and Ronny’s requirements. The layout is nice. And the owners have done some good upgrades. Refinished wood floors will work well with the two Turkish rugs your parents said they’re going to give you. The other bedrooms are decent sizes and you could have fun with colors. I could show you how to do some geometric patterns to create an accent wall in one of the bedrooms if you want. It’s not that hard. The measurements for the half bath are small, so depending on what’s already there, you might want to put in a pedestal sink. I did see that the hot water heater and furnace are older . . . sorry, I scrolled through the listing you e-mailed Margo.”

  “Understandable. If Margo and Ronny decide to put an offer on the ho
use, we’d wait to see what the inspector said—”

  “And possibly request the sellers purchase an extended home warranty?”

  “That’s always an option.”

  “Is the price negotiable?”

  “It just came on the market a couple of days ago, so I’m not sure how much the sellers are willing to budge.”

  “The carpeting is in good shape. Not brand-new, but clean.” Caron paced the perimeter of the bedroom, stopping by the door where Kade and Margo waited. “Rooms are good sizes. One could work as an office. You could replace the solid wood doors with glass-paned ones to let in more light.”

  “The third bedroom—the smaller of the two?” Kade tilted his head left, in the direction of the other room.

  “Well, if Margo and Ronny want a guest bedroom, it makes sense to use the larger of the extra bedrooms for that, don’t you think?”

  “Good point.”

  Caron offered him a smile that might as well have been a sucker-punch to his solar plexus. This was the Caron Hollister he remembered—well, one facet of her, anyway. Talking houses. Suggesting improvements. Self-assured. And an alluring smile that slammed him up against the wall. A dash of Caron’s casual beauty mixed with her warmth.

  He faced Margo. His client. “So, Margo, you ready to look at the other rooms?”

  “Sure.”

  Caron’s voice slipped past any defense he tried to erect. “I’ll just get out of your way and check out the rest of the house.”

  “Hey, you’re keeping your skills up.” Margo wrapped an arm around Caron’s shoulders in a side hug. “Don’t want to get rusty before you find another job.”

  “Margo!” With a quick shake of her head, Caron shrugged out of the other woman’s embrace. “We’re here to talk about whether this house works for you and Ronny—not about me.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  “It’s all good. Go on and finish the tour with Kade.” With a soft “excuse me,” Caron eased past them, escaping down the hallway and back toward the front of the house.

  Kade stilled. What did that exchange mean? Caron was looking for a job? That made no sense at all. Back when they dated, she was focused on achieving success at her father’s real estate office.