Heating Up

by Stacy Finz

  “Hey.” He nuzzled her cheek. “It’s morning.”

  “Huh.” She came awake gradually. Disoriented, but so, so beautiful she made Aidan’s chest ache.

  She blinked at the clock on the side table, and Aidan watched as she slowly put the pieces together. “Uh-oh.”

  “Is this gonna be a problem?”

  She looked at him like he was out of focus and she was trying to clear her vision. “You mean with my parents?”

  “Yeah.”

  Letting out a humorless laugh, she said, “No. They won’t even have realized we stayed the night. But I have a ten o’clock appointment.”

  “I can get you there in time.”

  She slid her legs over the side of the bed, holding the blanket against her chest, scanning the room. “I can’t remember where I left my clothes.”

  “In one of those changing rooms outside. I’ll get them for you.” He reached across the bed for her. “Hey, come here for a second.”

  She suddenly seemed shy and guardedly leaned closer. Aidan kissed her.

  “I have morning breath,” she said and got up, pulling the blanket around her, and went to the bathroom.

  Aidan grabbed his clothes off the chair and started to dress. He’d shower at home. Before Dana came out, he went in search of her clothes, came back in, and handed them to her through the bathroom door.

  “Thanks.” She emerged a little while later fully dressed and ready to go. “I just have to leave a note for the housekeeper about changing the bedding.”

  “Okay. You want to meet me in the truck?”

  “That would be good.”

  Aidan figured she’d probably go inside the main house to check on her parents. “Come get me if you need anything.” Like rescuing.

  She flashed a wry smile and he left, finding his way back to the front of the house to his Expedition. For a house in the city, it had a lot of grounds. Everywhere he looked were expansive gardens, lawns, and terraces. The Calloways must have a hell of a landscaping team. Funny, he’d never figured Dana for a rich girl. He knew her family owned the candy company but had no idea that it was this profitable. Besides, she worked harder than most people he knew and seemed to be conscientious about money, not like a woman who’d been born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

  From the looks of the house, the furnishings, and the manicured grounds, he’d say it was a pretty safe bet that she came from more money than Sue, whose family had been quite comfortable. Yet Dana acted more like someone from his family’s background—good middle-class stock. Sue wouldn’t even have considered a home in Nugget. Too rustic, too rural, too blue collar.

  He took a few seconds to check out the front of the house. Last night he’d been too bowled over to take a really good look. In the light of day, it was very impressive. The place had to be a hundred years old but meticulously maintained right down to the water in the giant fountain. Strange that Dana’s parents hadn’t just let it go, like they seemed to have done with everything else, most notably their daughter. He’d seen the hurt in Dana’s eyes when her mother had ignored her last night. If one of the McBrides’ houses had burned down, his parents would’ve been involved in every aspect of the aftermath. As far as he knew, Dana hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell her mother about the big real estate transaction on which she was about to close.

  He got in his truck and checked his phone for messages. Nothing but a few emails from his folks and brothers. He’d hoped to get a few tips on the sporting goods fire but nada. It was already getting hot, and Aidan questioned the wisdom of turning on the AC. Running the engine might draw more attention than necessary.

  But a few seconds later Dana opened the door and scooted into the front seat, throwing a bag at him.

  “What’s this?”

  “Calloway candy. I used up your stash at our barbecue.”

  His lips curved up into a smile and he started the engine. “Thanks. Crack one open.”

  “Now?” She made a face.

  “Yeah. Breakfast of champions.”

  He found his way back to the main road as she fed him chocolate. “Did you talk to your parents?”

  “They weren’t up yet.” She fiddled with the vents until they blew maximum cool air. “Are we going to talk about it?”

  He knew she’d eventually get back to her rules and regulations. “Why can’t we just enjoy it? Without a doubt, our night together was the best thing that’s happened to me in the last seven months.” Maybe ever.

  “We’re roommates, Aidan. Last night could make things really strained.”

  “Why? You planning to bring men home?”

  “Of course not. Are you planning to bring home women?”

  He slid her a sideways glance. “Not the way I roll.”

  “So we’re just planning to play house?”

  He tilted his head against his backrest in frustration. Why couldn’t women just live in the moment? “We should just see how it goes, don’t overthink it. Can you at least try to do that?”

  She sat quiet for a few minutes and finally said, “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t tell you so when it blows up in our faces.”

  “You’re one of those I-told-you-so chicks, aren’t you?” he teased.

  “I’m just very practical.”

  No, she was scared shitless. He got that because he was too. In fact, he should be running in the opposite direction. But for some crazy-ass reason, he wanted to stick around to see what would happen.

  “Are you going to work?” she asked him.

  “Technically I’m off, but with the sporting goods case I thought I’d put in a few hours.” Though he had nothing to go on.

  “Is there a possibility the fire could’ve been an accident?”

  “Not likely.”

  “That kind of stuff just doesn’t happen in a place like Nugget. Although we had the cattle thefts and a big drug bust. Then there was the dead guy who washed up . . .”

  Aidan knew that had been Sloane’s case. Sad story. “It might’ve just been kids, but it was intentional.”

  “You’ll solve it,” she said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because you’re good at your job.”

  He wondered if this was postsex flattery because she had no way of knowing whether he was a good arson investigator. Aidan was fairly sure he was the only arson investigator she’d ever met. However, it just so happened he was the best.

  “Thanks for the confidence. You have time for coffee? We could drive through the Bun Boy.”

  “I’ll just make a pot at home. As it is, I’m cutting it close because I still have to shower and blow-dry my hair.”

  He’d like to shower with her, but he had a feeling if he did, she’d really be late. But they should think about it in the future . . . for the sake of the drought.

  “I’ll make the coffee, you get ready,” he said.

  Her brows went up, and he got the impression the gesture alluded to them playing house again. She should know he wasn’t very good at it. All she had to do was ask Sue.

  * * *

  The cabin was even more darling than Dana remembered. Immaculate and furnished tastefully, without too many personal touches.

  What most sellers failed to understand was that their family pictures—no matter how sweet—eclectic art collections, and porcelain figurines actually distracted perspective buyers. Or worse: they creeped them out. People wanted to see themselves in a house, not the former occupant. That was why most model homes were decorated as generically as possible. No signs of a person’s religion, political party, or what kind of clubs she belonged to. Unless it was the yacht club. For some reason, nautical themes—except fishnet strung on the walls like at Long John Silver’s—were completely acceptable, even to people who didn’t spend time on the water. Dana supposed it represented a lifestyle of leisure and glamour.

  “So what do you think the house is worth?” Mr. Castro followed her around the cabin as she took notes.

&nb
sp; “It’s worth what someone will pay for it. The question is how shall we price it? For that I brought along a list of comparatives in the area. I thought we could sit down and look them over together.” She really wanted the listing but knew Mr. Castro would be disappointed with her suggested asking price.

  He’d gotten it in his head that the house should be priced at half a million dollars. If she had to guess, that was what one of her competitors had told him in order to get the listing. Well, she wasn’t about to lie.

  “Sounds good.”

  They sat at the dining room table, and Dana passed him a folder showing all the sales in Nugget over the last three months. It had been a good period as far as the number of sales but still paled in comparison to an urban community of this size.

  “I don’t see anything that compares to my property.” He continued to scan the paperwork.

  “Not exactly, but other than Sierra Heights, this area is pretty varied. Everything from large ranches and farms to one-room cabins.” She pulled out another sheet from the folder. “These are homes that are currently on the market; your competition, so to speak. I’ve been in all of them. While none is as turnkey as yours, this one”—she pointed to a custom home two miles away—“is a thousand square feet larger and has a pad for a boat or motor home.”

  “It doesn’t have a river view.”

  “Nope. And that’s certainly worth some money. But this one”—she showed him another listing fresh on the market—“does.”

  “I’ve seen that house. It’s a dump.”

  “It definitely needs work. But it’s on ten usable acres.”

  “So what you’re saying is half a mil is unrealistic.”

  “We could certainly list it for that and see what happens,” she said. “But unless we find a buyer who falls so in love with this place that he or she doesn’t care what other homes in the area are selling for, yeah, it’s unrealistic.”

  He let out a sigh and waved the folder at her. “You make a good case. Why do you think Daniel from Heavenly Homes thinks I can do better?”

  “You have a beautiful place, Mr. Castro. Anyone can see you’ve put a lot of love into it, and sometimes that blurs what’s really happening in the market. We could list at that price, but I think you would wind up being disappointed.”

  “What do you think is realistic?”

  “Priced to sell? Three hundred and fifty thousand if we go by the comps.”

  She figured that would put the kibosh on her getting the listing. No question Mr. Castro wanted more. But what he wanted and what he could get were two different things.

  “How would you market it?”

  “I’d advertise the listing on the Nugget Tribune’s site with a virtual tour. I have a videographer who does beautiful work, and your home is ideal for something like that. A lot of out-of-town buyers subscribe to the Trib for the real estate ads. Of course it would go on our website as well, in our newsletter, and to a number of other publications. And, depending on how you feel about it, an open house or two. Of course we’d hold an open house for local brokers as well. You live in Sacramento so it shouldn’t be too inconvenient.”

  “How soon could all this happen?”

  “I could get it on the MLS today. Get the videographer out here next week and do the broker’s tour Thursday.” Man oh man, did she want the listing.

  “How fast can you sell it?”

  She smiled. “Mr. Castro, I would be lying to you if I gave you a time frame. There is no way to predict something like that. But I’ll do my very best.”

  “That other fellow said two months.”

  She merely shrugged. “Again, you have a beautiful home. I think potential buyers will be impressed. But I’m not going to tell you two months; that’s just not my style.”

  “I like your honesty and I like your integrity,” Mr. Castro said. “Let’s do business together.”

  “Nothing would make me happier.” Inside, she was jumping up and down. Dana pulled a set of documents from her briefcase. “This is our standard contract. Together, we’ll fill in a price and all the other pertinent details, then I’ll need you to sign everything.”

  Two hours later, she headed to the office, over the moon. She might even add the cabin to her list of places to show the couple interested in Sierra Heights. They were coming up today, staying the night and looking tomorrow. The cabin was smaller than what they were looking for, but you never knew. Ideally, she hoped they’d settle on Sierra Heights. Despite telling themselves they wanted more privacy, Dana could see the planned community was better suited to their needs and lifestyle. They had kids, were extremely sociable, and the husband was an avid golfer. In Sierra Heights he’d have a golf course as his backyard. She worried that a house in the woods would be too secluded for them. But she would let them come to that conclusion on their own.

  Right now, she just wanted to set up a time for the videographer to shoot pictures of her new listing, go home, and take a nap. Last night with Aidan . . . she’d never done anything like it. Had never experienced that kind of passion. Not with Tim, not with Griffin, not in her wildest fantasies. She’d had a sneaking suspicion Aidan would be good, but not that good. If she didn’t know better, she’d think it had meant something to him.

  It wasn’t that she thought he was a player or a user, or even the type to hook up with any convenient woman he could find. Aidan had too much integrity for that. But she’d been the first woman since Sue and understood the implications of that. She wouldn’t be his last.

  Carol’s car sat under a shady tree in the parking lot. Typically, she didn’t work weekends. That was where Dana came in. The day had turned sweltering, and just from the short walk from her car to the office she could feel perspiration drip between the valley of her breasts. That made her think of her parents’ pool, which made her think of Aidan.

  A gust of cool air hit Dana as soon as she walked into the office. “Hi,” she greeted Carol, who was doing paperwork at her desk. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

  “A couple up for the weekend mentioned to Maddy that they were looking for a second home. She told them about Sierra Heights. They took a drive through, called the office, left a message, and because you were already out . . .”

  “Are they serious?”

  “As a heart attack. They’re grabbing a bite at the Ponderosa to talk it over and should be back”—Carol looked at her watch—“in forty-five minutes.”

  “That’s fantastic. Which model?”

  “That’s what they needed to talk about. She wants the Sierra and he says they can only afford the Pine Cone. How ’bout you? How did you fare with Mr. Castro?”

  “I got the listing.” Dana high-fived Carol. “Sounds like both of us had productive days.”

  “The market is hopping. Anything new with the Rosser place?”

  Dana quickly sorted through her mail and waved a FedEx envelope in the air. “The papers! I just have to send them off to Del Webber and the ranch officially goes into escrow.”

  “Wow! That’s by far the biggest sale this office has ever had.” Carol came over to where Dana was sitting, pulled her up out of the chair, and hugged her. “You rock, girl.”

  “So do you, Carol.”

  Carol gave her another squeeze. “I’m running over to the Bun Boy. Want anything?”

  “No thanks. I’m hoping to finish up a few bookkeeping items and take off. Tomorrow I’ve got that couple from the Bay Area.”

  “All right. If I don’t see you when I get back, have a good rest of the day and good luck tomorrow.”

  “Right back at ya. I hope your folks get the Sierra.” Dana crossed her fingers.

  After Carol left, Dana tore open Gia’s envelope to make sure the documents were in order. Everything looked perfect. She quickly jotted off an email to Gia to confirm that she’d gotten the paperwork and got her videographer on the phone. He agreed to do the photos of the cabin on Monday so Dana could have the virtual tour done in time for the br
oker’s tour.

  Dana tidied up her desk and was just about to leave when the door jingled. Griffin came in.

  “Jesus, it’s hot.”

  “Not in here. Shut the door before you let all the cool air out. You looking for Carol?”

  “No. I was over at the Nugget Market getting charcoal and saw your car outside. Just thought I’d say hi.”

  For the first time since he’d gotten back with Lina she didn’t feel like he was being patronizing. Just friendly. Maybe it had always been that way and she’d been too bitter to notice.

  “It sounds like Carol may have a buyer for one of your houses. The couple is having a late lunch, mulling over which model.”

  “That’s great,” Griffin said. “Seems like business has picked up. What’s going on with you?”

  I had sex last night with Aidan McBride in my parents’ swimming pool. “Not much. How about you?”

  “The gas station has been crazy busy.” Besides Sierra Heights, Griff owned the Gas and Go, where he also built and sold custom motorcycles. “Other than that, not a whole lot. It seems like you and Aidan are getting pretty tight.”

  “We’re good friends.” The fact was, she didn’t really know what they were.

  His lips curved up in a knowing smile. “Seems like more than that to me. I even heard you hosted a party together.”

  She was about to argue that they’d only thrown the barbecue as roommates; then it dawned on her that perhaps he was offended they hadn’t invited him and Lina. “It was just a last-minute thing. Very small. We would’ve called you . . . I figured you had plans.”

  “We went to Clay and Emily’s. They had a cookout at the ranch. But Harlee and Darla said yours was nice, that you went all out on the decorations.”

  “Like I said, totally impromptu.” She racked her brain for a subject change, but he beat her to the punch.

  “I heard Aidan’s investigating the fire at the sporting goods store. He have any leads?”

  “I don’t think so, but he’s professional and won’t talk about it, even with me.” She didn’t know why she’d said that last part—like she was somehow privy to special information.