Hot Property

by Lacey Diamond

  Betsy trembled at the sound of his voice. Had he read her mind? Did he know she was terrified of getting too close to him? Or did he think she was just playing some sort of childish game? That’s not what she wanted.

  “I just can’t,” she insisted and bustled past him and up the stairs to her office.

  “Is it something I said? No wait, it’s my breath. I have bad breath. That’s it isn’t it?”

  The smile came naturally as Betsy craned her neck away from the window where she’d taken root, and looked at him. He balanced his tall muscled frame at the top of the steps, by gripping the top of the archway. His head was tilted sideways, while narrow blue eyes peered up at her in a pitiful way. He reminded her of a little boy who’d just been scolded.

  “No, it’s not your breath.” The smile faded when an inner voice reminded her of her decision to practice restraint around him. “I have other plans. But you might want to ask Stephanie Rogers. I’m sure she’d love to have dinner with you.” Betsy wanted to bite off her tongue. She had no idea where the words came from.

  “I had lunch with Stephanie.”

  His words took her breath away. Reminding herself he could have lunch with whomever he wanted, allowed her to breathe.

  “I’m sorry. I had no right--”

  “You have the right to assume whatever you want, Betsy.” Their eyes met and held steady for a long time before Skylar broke the spell by speaking again. “Since I can’t convince you to have dinner with me, I guess I’ll go take a closer look at my new property to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.”

  But you have convinced me. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than have dinner with you. The words were all there, stuck to the roof of her mouth. And by the time her tongue had pried them loose, Skylar was already going out the front door.

  Betsy felt the loss immediately, a void deep within her. She crossed her arms over her heart, hugging herself, but the empty feeling did not leave her. If anything, it had widened into a big gaping hole.

  A few minutes to gather up her things and she left the building, surprised to find the temperature and humidity had dropped. The pleasant weather shouldn’t be wasted indoors.

  That of course was the explanation she gave to the sensible side of herself. The one telling her it was a mistake to think about doing what she was already making plans to do. And when she stopped by the mini-market on the way home selecting the things she would need, Miss Sensible was still badgering her. She didn’t let up once she arrived home or while Betsy changed her clothes. She persisted as Betsy loaded up the small basket she carried with her back outside.

  Betsy strapped the basket to the backend of her motorcycle seat and mounted her ride before Miss Sensible gave up and wasn’t heard from again until Betsy coasted to a stop at her destination.

  The instant old Betsy came into view, Betsy’s pulse quickened. When she coasted to a stop behind the truck, Miss Sensible returned insisting she turn around and head for cover before it was too late. But it was already too late. Hiding would not fill the gaping hole deep within her. Only Skylar could do that.

  Invisible fingers tickled Betsy from head to foot as she collected the basket from her bike and started making her way through the path of flattened weeds. She trekked over the ground and climbed the hill effortlessly in comparison to the other day. But today she was wearing her hiking boots and had already absorbed the shock of losing her land.

  As Betsy stepped upon the peak of the hill, Skylar approached from the other side. The mere sight of him took her breath away. He still wore the trousers to his suit. But the jacket and tie were gone and his shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest.

  A blazing burst of heat stormed through Betsy as she imagined running her fingers over the smoothness of that muscled and tanned chest.

  When his long legs suddenly braked, Betsy gazed up into magnificent blue eyes. Their stare held for what seemed an eternity of pure bliss before the magical moment was broken when Skylar blinked. His mouth spread into a big smile that showed flawless white teeth.

  “You came.” His words were said as if the surprise of seeing her left him too stunned to think of anything else to say.

  The void within Betsy was already flooding over the edges with fullness. “I came,” she said, still gazing at him in a trance-like state.

  The magical moment of silence made Betsy feel weightless. Her fingers let go of their firm hold on the handle of the picnic basket. When it smashed down on her toe, it wasn’t pain, but built in reflexes that made her move, breaking the spell.

  “Ouch,” came from Skylar’s mouth on impact. And it was he who quickly lifted the basket off her toe.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  The genuine concern in his voice soothed the thumping sensation in Betsy’s big toe.

  “Didn’t feel a thing,” she said and smiled, deciding her next pair of hiking boots would have steel toes.

  Skylar’s smile reflected relief. He swung the basket up to his face and raised a corner of the lid. “What have we got here anyway?”

  “I figured you’d skip dinner when you mentioned coming up here to work.”

  “You do seem to make a lot of assumptions about me, Betsy.”

  The sudden change in his mood alerted Betsy something troubled him. Could it be her boldness? Had he made other dinner plans for later and hesitated telling her? Had he taken her up on her suggestion and called Stephanie? If so, he didn’t have to feel embarrassed for her. Her impulsive behavior had gotten her into this awkward position and would get her out.

  “Well I won’t be making any more,” she declared, snatching the basket from his hand and turning on her heels to leave.

  In spite of her quickness, Skylar moved faster and grasped hold of her arm and spun her back around, pulling her against him.

  “Your assumption wasn’t wrong, Betsy. I haven’t eaten yet.”

  His voice had come to her in a husky whisper. Her flare up of anger was replaced with a raging fire of desire that was burning out of control when Skylar stepped back from her.

  “Bringing me dinner was a nice gesture. But I don’t have time to eat right now.”

  “I see,” Betsy stated, but she didn’t. And the snapping and cracking fire of passion was replaced with anger. The man was absolutely impossible. One minute he was warm, even compassionate. The very next, he was cold and distant.

  “Charlie Webber, my construction foreman just left here,” he said, then hesitated, ramming his hands in his trouser pockets. His head lowered as a dusty loafer kicked into a patch of tall clover.

  He stared into her eyes. “A township supervisor showed up this morning when my crew was about to break ground for the road up here. The supervisor stopped them.” He paused. “It’s my own fault. My lawyer was out of town so I had to retain the services of another one before I had time to make the proper inquiries into his background. The man has no experience in real estate transactions of this nature. If he had, all the necessary permits and approvals would’ve been finalized prior to settling on the property.”

  Now Betsy understood his mood swing. And all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and assure everything would turn out okay. But she knew that wasn’t what he needed right now. The man might be vulnerable if put in a situation foreign to him, but Skylar was in familiar territory. He didn’t need a hug and she kept her arms at her side and prompted him to explain his solution.

  “So now what? I mean what timetable are we looking at before you can move forward?”

  Skylar glanced at his watch and started moving down the hillside. “The township’s monthly meeting should be getting underway any minute now. I intend to get approval before it adjourns.”

  Ninety percent of Betsy’s dealings involved residential properties. The other ten percent gave her experience with urban land sales purchased for development. Obtaining the required permits and approvals was not as simple as Skylar made it sound.

  Skylar suddenl
y stopped in mid-stride, as if something had occurred to him. He started to turn back around as Betsy came up alongside him. He reached out and relieved her of the basket then was off to the races again down the hillside. Betsy shifted into a trot in order to remain at his side.

  “You should come with me to the meeting.”

  Betsy glanced over at him just in time to see the grin.

  “The supervisors might be more agreeable to my request with a pretty woman at my side.”

  His statement left Betsy speechless. How dare he make reference to her as if she were a pawn he could use to sway their decision in his favor? Did he really think she was pretty? The thought gave her a chill of excitement and brought a smile to her face. Then she frowned. In comparison to his beauty queen girlfriend Stephanie Rogers, Betsy thought herself a plain Jane. If it were Stephanie at his side would he have said beautiful?

  They reached old Betsy and Skylar sat the basket in the rear end of the truck and froze when he spotted Betsy’s motorcycle.

  “You ride a Harley?”

  Betsy couldn’t keep from smiling as she gripped the handlebars and swung her leg over the seat. “You have a problem with that?”

  He shook his head and grinned. “No problem. So you want to follow me?”

  “I never said I was going to the meeting.”

  His lower lip dropped. “As my Realtor you could offer insight into the need for additional housing in the area.”

  Betsy couldn’t argue. Nor could she visualize anything but pine and spruce trees sprouting from the hillside he wanted to build homes on.

  “You can give them the facts,” Betsy said, then glanced down her front. “I’m not dressed for the occasion anyway.”

  She watched him close his lips and swallow hard. Could he be feeling the same sense of loss as her since they were about to part? Wishful thinking, Miss Sensible mocked. The man gave little indication of being physically attracted to her. But then Betsy thought she did a good job hiding her true feelings. Could he be too?

  Skylar’s hands gripped the side of his truck bed. “If I had more time I think I could convince you to join me.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Since time isn’t on my side, I guess this is goodbye.”

  “Bye.” Betsy saw him hesitate, his eyes fixed on hers as if he was holding on in hope she’d change her mind. When she remained silent he turned toward the door.

  “Skylar!”

  He slowly tilted his head in her direction.

  “Good luck.”

  His lips twisted into a little smile before she watched him climb behind the wheel and drive away.

  Betsy swallowed the lump in her throat, then gunned the throttle and headed in the opposite direction. She was determined to enjoy the sights and smell of the countryside. The thick forest of trees on both sides of the road made her smile. But the beauty of the lavender and white wild flowers near the edge of the road is what occupied her thoughts until she made the turn onto the main street.

  Up until now the scenery allowed her to postpone feeling the emptiness tugging at her insides. She couldn’t allow this to continue. She’d been perfectly content with her life before Skylar. And she would be again. She had to be.

  She arrived home and went into her roomy downstairs apartment, managed to shower, pull on her white terry cloth one piece short outfit without allowing a glimpse of Skylar and her feelings for him into her thoughts. The way her toe began to thump helped keep her mind off him. She placed her foot on the side of the bathtub to give the toe a closer look. It was an ugly sight, swollen and already black and blue. Feeling along the bone she came to the conclusion it wasn’t broken.

  When Betsy thought about how she’d gotten the injury, she quickly put her foot down on the cool tile.

  “You got off easy,” Miss Sensible insisted. If she hadn’t stood gaping at Skylar the picnic basket wouldn’t have smashed her toe in the first place.

  “Letting down your guard around a man only brings pain,” Miss Sensible reminded.

  Betsy agreed. She’d be more careful in the future.

  She ran the comb through her short wet waves and went into the living room.

  Plopping on the center worn couch cushion she picked up the copy of Skylar’s house plans from the coffee table where she’d dropped them when she came in from work. As she leaned back in her seat, unrolling the heavy paper, she propped her feet on the table.

  First glance at the plans and she found fault. The more she studied the interior design, the more frustrated she became. “The man’s building a castle,” she blurted and dropped the house plans on her lap.

  Castles were ancient and reminded her of all the old houses she’d lived in.

  Her gaze wandered around the large room where she sat. The high plastered ceiling was cracked at various spots. The white walls looked as bad. She’d filled the room with shelves of books and potted plants trying to give it a cozy appearance. But in the winter months when she dared walk around on the wood floors in bare feet, she felt cold.

  She gripped the paper again and took another look. This was not the one story new house with thick plush carpet throughout she’d pictured on that hill.

  Skylar Blakewood would hear about her dislike for his proposed first house. As his Realtor it was her job to tell him what her buyers wanted. It would be too late once construction began. She made up her mind she’d call his office first thing in the morning when the doorbell rang.

  She dropped the plans on the coffee table. It was after nine o’clock. She made it a habit to hit the sack by ten during the work week. Friends and acquaintances knew that. So who’d be calling at this hour?

  Curious to see who wanted to impose on her privacy at this time of night, she swung open the solid wood door.

  “I was hoping you’d still be up,” Skylar said as he opened the screen door and walked in, uninvited.

  Betsy grasped the top of the terry cloth material barely covering her chest, suddenly feeling half naked and a little embarrassed. “I was about to turn in.” She stumbled into the living room where Skylar was already making himself right at home on the couch after setting the picnic basket on the coffee table.

  For the first time since he charged inside like an unexpected bolt of lightning, the man was giving Betsy more than a quick glance. He was without a doubt undressing her with his eyes as his gaze slowly traveled up her trembling body. Sensuous blue eyes captured hers and held. The gaze was broken when Skylar abruptly jumped to his feet.

  “Well, I won’t keep you then. I just wanted to return your basket.”

  Betsy swallowed in order to speak. “Thank you. I’d completely forgotten about it.”

  “Maybe you can salvage its contents,” Skylar suggested as he stepped out around the coffee table and started moving toward her.

  Betsy had trouble breathing normally as he got near her. She took a few giant steps away from him, toward the basket. “If you haven’t eaten you might as well take one of these with you.” Her words were rigid as she lifted the lid on the basket and pulled out a hoagie.

  “Keep it. I’m not fond of store bought sandwiches.”

  “Well you won’t get a home cooked meal around here.”

  “Did you hear me ask for one?”

  Betsy felt her face flush. Now she could add insulting to the list of names she’d used before to describe him.

  “I’m sorry. The meeting didn’t go as I planned. But that’s no reason to take out my frustrations on you.”

  Of course he had no right. But Betsy didn’t give it another thought. She forgave him. She even wished she could absorb some of the mental anguish he appeared to be suffering. Though, she hadn’t a clue why.

  “You can’t be serious? The supervisors wouldn’t dare deny you a building permit.”

  “They didn’t. The code enforcement officer signed the permit for one house. But it seems the supervisors are hell bent on reviewing my development plan before they’ll even consider granting a variance.”


  Skylar returned to the couch and dropped on the edge of an end cushion. He had his head down and used his fingers to rake through the dark mass of hair.

  Betsy’s only thought when she sat down next to him was to assure things would work out.

  “Holy cow woman!” His words startled Betsy before he reached down and carefully lifted her foot. “You better have a doctor look at this.”

  “It’ll heal.”

  He carefully brought her leg to his lap. “If you won’t have it checked, you should at least keep it elevated to prevent more swelling.”

  If he only knew the kind of sweet torture he caused her as his hand rested over the top of her ankle. His flesh touching hers, ignited fires to blaze out of control in every minute cell to major organ of her anatomy.

  When he leaned forward reaching for the copy of the house plans on the coffee table, Betsy automatically leaned with him. She really didn’t have a choice since he held her leg captive.

  He sat back. “Did you get a chance to look at these?”

  The blue of Betsy’s eyes briefly met his. In that glorious moment when it seemed the world belonged to only them, she wanted to tell him his plans were brilliant. Miss Sensible stopped her. She needed to stop gushing with teenage idolism for the guy and get to the business at hand.

  A hot flash torpedoed through her. She wondered if he realized he was massaging her ankle. Did he have any idea what his touch was doing to her?

  “The house is going to be a castle.”

  Skylar chuckled. “Not quite.” His eyes met hers and his expression became serious. “Doesn’t every little girl grow up wanting to be rescued by a prince and carried off to his castle?”

  Did he really believe this fairytale nonsense of women? On the other hand, Betsy considered his analysis close to the truth of many, but not for Betsy Alexander. She didn’t need rescued from anything by Prince Charming. There was no such man anyway.

  “I doubt little girls sit around fantasizing about that fairytale anymore.”

  “Just because you don’t like men doesn’t mean other women feel the same, Miss Alexander.”

  His words left her speechless even when he carefully lifted her leg off his lap and stood. But she located her voice before he reached the door.