Page 2 of Devil in the Details

“About the house.” He paused there, gaze taking in the drought-tolerant lawn planted to one side of the yard and the water feature built into the corner there, the tall palms that had now been neatly trimmed and looked much more reputable than they had when he’d first bought the place. “I’ve decided to keep this one and sell my other house.”

Not even a flicker of surprise in her expression, which told him she must have suspected for a while that he might change his mind about giving up the Pueblo Street house.

In fact, her full lips quirked just a little. “It’s that amazing, huh?”

“I think so,” he said. “And I like that the property backs up to the golf course, and I don’t have any rear neighbors. It feels more…private.”

Delia didn’t bother to ask why he felt privacy was so important. Early on, he’d told her exactly what he was, a little shocked at himself for confiding in her…even as he’d somehow known in his gut that she wouldn’t betray his trust.

And she hadn’t.

But because she knew he was part demon and doing his best to build an entirely new life for himself here in Las Vegas, she understood at once why he’d want a house where it didn’t feel as if the neighbors were peeping in from all sides.

That same quirk showed at the corner of her mouth again. “You’re reducing my commission, you know,” she said in mock-severe tones, and he grinned.

“I could have just handled the sale myself,” he countered, and now she chuckled.

It was only the truth. While working on the house, he’d taken a bunch of online courses so he could get his Nevada real estate license — not because he had any intention of becoming a full-time realtor, but because he figured it could only help if he decided to buy more investment properties and Delia wasn’t available to handle those transactions, for whatever reason.

“You could have,” she replied before adding, “But I don’t know whether you would have gotten top dollar.”

Caleb didn’t, either. Sure, he was good at getting himself out of sticky situations, and yet he’d never handled a real estate negotiation and didn’t know whether he’d be at the top of his game during the process…especially since he was very new to all this.

He was just considering what sort of reply he should give her when Maggie Nicholson, the woman who had been coordinating the house staging, pushed open the bifold doors and stuck her head outside.

“It’s ready,” she announced. “The movers are taking out all the packing material now.”

Perfect. “Thanks, Maggie,” he said. “We’ll be inside in just a minute.”

She tilted her head in acknowledgment and then closed the door, taking the hint that he wanted to be able to explore the house with only Delia as his company.

“Excited?” she asked.

Caleb had to think about that one for a second or two. “I suppose so,” he replied. “Or maybe it’s more that I’m just glad it’s done and I can let myself enjoy the place.”

A nod, but then Delia’s expression turned thoughtful. “And you’re really not worried about the history of the house?”

A valid question, he supposed, but he knew there was nothing to worry about here. “That ghost has been banished for months,” he said. “And I know the spirits of those women never lingered here. So I think the house is about as psychically neutral as it can be.”

Delia pursed her lips. No doubt she was thinking she’d be the judge of that, which he supposed was fair. He might be a quarter demon and have some unique psychic abilities, but she was the one who was able to sense whether houses were haunted…the one with a singular talent that allowed her to help any lingering spirits make their way to the next world.

“Come on,” he said. “I want to show you around.”

Delia was definitely appreciative of everything she saw, from the shining white oak floors that had been installed throughout the house to the bold black kitchen, which she’d been dubious about but now seemed to agree was perfect for the space. They explored the downstairs and then the bedrooms on the upper level. He had to admit it felt a little strange to have her in the master bedroom when he’d entertained a few fantasies about what it would be like to share the king-size bed with her, but she was all business, praising the millwork on the feature wall behind the bed and the sleek black standalone tub in the bath. Yes, he’d had to pay a lot extra to get one that wasn’t white, and yet he was so pleased with the effect that he knew he probably wouldn’t have blinked at the cost even if it had been double.

After they were done with the tour, they headed back down to the kitchen, where she sat down on one of the barstools at the enormous nine-foot island of black soapstone, and he poured a cup of coffee for her. Sure, it was late morning and she’d probably already had her coffee, but a little extra caffeine never hurt anyone.

“I can see why you would want to sell the other house,” she said. “This one is magnificent. And it’s very you.”

Caleb wondered if that remark meant he was magnificent as well, then decided it would probably be better not to ask. Anyway, even though Delia had offered a lot of sound advice and had helped guide him to the best suppliers and contractors, he was the one who’d had the final word on the design decisions.

Maybe that was why he felt so invested in the house. His current residence was also a flip, but one that had been designed by other people, and the whole time he’d lived there, he’d sort of felt as if he was camped out in someone else’s home or a fancy vacation rental rather than a place he actually owned.

Whereas this house?

He’d felt as if he’d come home the second he stepped into the living room. In fact, he felt much more at home here than he had in the house where he’d grown up. That grand edifice in Greencastle, Indiana, had been his mother’s pride and joy, and being there had been kind of like living in a museum.

“Also,” Delia went on, then sipped some more coffee, “the market’s a little better now than it was a few months ago, thanks to that recent drop in interest rates. I think we should be able to get a good price for your current home.” A pause, and her blue-gray eyes glinted at him. “How soon do you want to put it on the market?”

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