Page 59 of Taken By the Pack

“That’s Don,” Grace says as we step out. “He’ll try to get you to join his fishing trips. He’ll also absolutely judge you if you suck at it.”

“Noted.”

Inside, it’s clean, hardwood floors, lots of light. Feels lived in, but not in a bad way.

I glance at her. “You selling it or warning me?”

She grins. “Bit of both.”

I walk through it, open cabinets, check out the backyard. It’s got space, but something about it doesn’t click.

We move on.

The second place is in the middle of town, above a bookstore. It’s smaller but has character—exposed brick, a balcony that overlooks the street, shelves built into the walls.

“Owner moved to Florida,” Grace tells me as I check out the kitchen. “Only comes back to visit his grandkids, so he’s renting it out.”

It’s nice. Real nice. I can picture it—mornings with coffee, late nights with the windows open.

But the town’s heartbeat is right below. Shops, people, noise. I don’t hate it. But I don’t love it either.

I shake my head. “What’s next?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Just bites her lip before she says, “You might not like it.”

She drives us out to the last house, and the second we pull up, I know exactly why she said that.

It’s next to hers.

Smaller than the other two. One-story, white paint, a tiny porch. A yard that needs work but isn’t awful.

She parks and glances at me. “Go ahead. Look around.”

I do.

It’s nothing special. Two bedrooms, a kitchen that could use an update, a shower with weirdly good water pressure. But it’s quiet. Private. And?—

She’s right there.

Grace leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching me. “Well?”

I rub my jaw, exhaling slowly. “It’s the smallest one.”

“Yeah.”

“Least updated.”

“Uh-huh.”

I look at her.

Her head tilts, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “But?”

I exhale again, shaking my head. “But I’ll take it.”

She grins. “Thought so. It looks exactly like my place. Very charming.”

We’re back in her car ten minutes later, driving to the rental office. Everything moves fast—papers, a signature, a key pressed into my palm.

---