Page 26 of Love Songs

“Are they as good as I hear?” he asked, pointing at the box.

“Are they as. . .?” I gasped in mock offense and opened the box. “Take one.”

He picked out a square-shaped truffle with gold flakes sprinkled on one side and popped it into his mouth. I watched with rapt attention as he savored the sweet confection. My gaze followed, glued to the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

“Damn,” he groaned so decadently I had to fight back a groan of my own. “Thatisgood.”

I shifted on my feet, gulping hard and willing myself not to sport wood in the middle of Main Street. And then he was looking at me expectantly. I didn’t know how long I’d stood there staring at him as he ate a friggin’ piece of chocolate. To be fair, though. The sounds he made while eating it should have come with amay cause arousalwarning label.

“Uh . . .”

Ugh. Look at me, all eloquent and shit.

“I think I’ll go over there after getting my tea and grab some for myself,” Dallas said with laughter in his voice, and I got the feeling he’d repeated that sentence more than once. He coughed, once, the sound breathy.

“Make sure that you do,” I said, getting my mental balance back under control. “Tell them I sent you.”

“Will do,” Dallas said, the words cracking. His face pinched, and he coughed again, though this time more fully.

It was only then that I realized how hoarse his voice had sounded. He couldn’t still be having issues from inhaling smoke the other day, could he? The fire had been small, and I’d put it out quickly. Any smoke he’d inhaled would have been minimal and shouldn’t have affected him much, if at all. Certainly not four days later.

“Are you okay?” I asked, knitting my eyebrows in concern and patting his back. Then I remembered he’d told me about having vocal surgery.

“Yeah. Sorry,” Dallas said sotto voce. “My throat’s a bit sore. I haven’t rested it enough since the show.”

He looked like he was going to say something else, but shook his head.

“So, no more talking today,” I said, watching him closely. He nodded. “Go get your tea. I need to get back to work, but text me if you want that tour, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile that damn-near sent me to my knees. “See you around, Conor.”

I grinned. “See you around, Dallas.”

I watched with a frown on my face as he crossed the street and headed for Mabel’s Bistro. He looked back as he reached for the door and waved before disappearing inside. As I headed for the station, that kick in my step a little higher because I would see Dallas again, I made a mental note to call Sam to see if he had any maple remedies to ease a sore throat.

AFTER GETTING MYginger tea at Mabel’s Bistro—and signing an autograph for the star-struck barista who thought the stage fire was part of the show—I sipped the hot, soothing liquid, letting it work its magic on my throat as I walked down the street to the real estate office.

A bell jingled over the door as I entered, and a man wearing a burgundy polo shirt and tan chinos rose from his desk. He was about my age with short brown hair and sported round, red eyeglasses.

“Hi. I’m Nolan Kaslo,” he greeted with a friendly smile, extending his hand. “How can I help you today?”

“Nice to meet you, Nolan. I’m Dallas.” I shook his hand. “I was hoping to take a look at that lakeside property you have listed in the window.”

Nolan frowned, his gaze sliding toward the window and back.

“On Harmony Drive?” Disbelief rang clear in the raised pitch of his voice. I guessed few people asked about that property, opting for one of the turnkey offerings.

“Yes,” I said, dragging the word out and capping it with a slight inflection.

I knew from the lack of photos that the house would need work, but now I wondered if there was more to it.Wasthere a house at all? Did a murder happen there? I suppressed a shudder.

“You should know,” Nolan said, eying me dubiously, as if he thought I might be playing with him. “The property is beautiful, but the house has sat abandoned and neglected for over a decade. It’s in serious disrepair and will need a lot of work. Or raze it and build a new home.” He waved toward a wall opposite his desk, papered with a dozen listings. Most were duplicates of the ones I’d seen in the window. “We have some beautiful homes I can show you that are move-in ready.”

“I understand, but I’d still like to see that one,” I said, undeterred. I’m not sure what it was about the lakeside property, but even with only seeing a photo of the sagging dock, I had a good feeling about it. “Is it possible to see it today?”

Nolan studied me for a second, maybe gauging if I was serious, or waiting to see if I would come to my senses, but I wasn’t going to change my mind.

“Sure. Okay,” he said, still with a wary note in his voice but accepting there was no punchline. He adjusted his glasses higher on his nose. “We can go have a look now, if you’d like.”

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