Page 69 of The Fireman and the Flirt

Who would’ve thought the word client would sting this much. “You still think of me that way?”

“No. I don’t. It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated,” I repeated. Complicated was the necktie of words. It sounded fancy, but it served no purpose but to take up space.

“There’s a great backyard, too. Perfect for grilling outside.” Cary opened the sliding door. Cold air hit me in the face, a nice distraction from the turmoil turning in my chest. We’d had this incredible breakthrough in my car. We told each other things we’d never told anyone else. And now he wanted to go back to business only?

The backyard stretched out behind us. I never would’ve suspected a yard this big when I pulled up to the house. A small garden box sat by the deck. In contrast to the older feel of the inside, the deck looked to be fairly new and in great condition.

“The deck was recently updated. The people living here have been very savvy with their updates. A recently updated HVAC, roof, and deck are things you won’t find in most other houses.” Cary leaned against the railing of the deck before hopping off a second later. “Oh, there’s a shed, too! You don’t see those too often.”

“That’s part of the house?” I asked. “They’re not taking it with them?”

“Nope.”

We strolled across the lawn to the shed in the back corner of the yard. It was like a lone sign of life in unsettled land. Overgrown grass stuck around its edges. Its color matched the blue shutters out front, albeit with peeling paint.

Inside, the shed was empty save for a lawn mower and gardening supplies tucked in the corner. It was a bit bigger than an outhouse.

“It’s small but it gets the job done,” Cary said. “Doesn’t have too much of a serial killer feel.” He turned to me. “What do you think?”

“I’ll take it,” I said.

“I was asking about the shed, but you’ll take the house?”

“Yeah. Let’s put in an offer.”

“You shouldn’t have a problem. It’s been sitting on the market for over a month,” he said, minus the enthusiasm I would’ve expected from him. “I’ll begin to draw up the papers.”

I thought he’d be thrilled about this. I was having flashbacks to Paula and the confusing hot/cold way she acted as our marriage unraveled.

Cary is not Paula, I told myself.

“Okay. Was there anything else you wanted to see?” Cary asked, visibly nervous.

I crowded the exit from the shed, and being this close to him was doing something to my head. Both of them, actually.

“Nope. Can we close on the house today?”

“Today? I wish the banks worked that quickly.”

“Well, how soon can I stop being your client, Cary? Because if being your client means I can’t kiss you or hold you or fuck you, then I’m ready to sign the papers today.”

The professional veneer Cary wore this entire visit began to crack, and the Cary I remembered and was falling for shined through. He could handle any client question except for one, apparently.

“Derek.”

I took a step toward him, fully plunging us into the shed. Shards of light slipped through the windows.

“Cary, I want to keep seeing you. In fact, I’m glad I won’t need to have an excuse of a house listing to spend time with you.”

The turmoil that churned within him flashed on his face.

“Why is this complicated?” I asked, making a supposedly complex situation very, very simple. I was a grown-ass man. I’d been through so much in my life already. I didn’t want to waste more precious time playing games.

“I’m not good at this,” he said softly, his voice cracking.

“I’d say you’re doing a pretty bang-up job.”

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