Page 5 of Almost Perfect
She surveyed the space, then swiped her phone, and her shoulders relaxed. “No, I’m good.”
Nodding, I turned and immediately made my way to the door. “Call the number on the listing if you have any issues at all. We’re not too far. And Warrick’ll see you tomorrow.”
With a quiet farewell, she shut the door behind me. I took the knit cap from my pocket and pulled it down over my head. I’d skipped shucking the chaps because it hadn’t occurred to me the sight might be unusual. And also, they’d kept me warm on the walk to the little house, and now back to my place.
It’d be interesting having someone else around. Warrick was in town a lot more after he’d purchased a house down there to fix up now that he’d finished this place. I didn’t mind the solitude. I’d grown used to it in the past few years, but after the breakup with Samantha, the distance from town seemed to have multiplied.
Was it the breakup? Part of me had pegged this dragging, dull quality to life lately on that. In truth, I couldn’t honestly say whether it was or not. I only knew I hadn’t felt a kick in my chest like the one I’d experienced when Callaway Rice turned up since… probably ever. Since well before I’d pared back at work. Not even when I gave it a try with Leonie Morrison—known to most as simply Leo—and realized we were better as friends. That had been a few years ago, and though it’d dashed my hopes for a bit, I’d accepted that dating Leo seriously and then having it fizzle would’ve made my friendships with her three brothers rather awkward. In the end, she’d belonged with her now-husband Jonas Bauer, and I was happy for them.
Point was, I hadn’t been interested like this in ages.
So not being alone? I’d take it.
If that someone happened to be a beautiful woman?
Fine by me.
* * *
Warrick crashed through the door an hour later. Genuinely, the man collided with the panel and somehow made the knob turn in order to get inside. For someone who could be so nimble on his feet, he was one of the noisiest people I’d ever met. Basically the opposite of our middle brother, Wilder, who could be standing next to you for a full five minutes before you even sensed him, the creep.
“Did you meet him? Everything good?” he hollered from the mudroom just off the garage.
I bit back a small smile and along with it, the urge to say something like,If by him you mean a dangerously beautiful woman, then yes.Instead,I shook the pan, swishing around the sautéing vegetables just as the rice maker beeped. “Yeah, I did. It’s all good.”
“Why do you sound weird?” he asked, dumping an armful of grocery bags on the counter.
Even if he was noisy, he tended to be tidy, thankfully. I didn’t think of myself as particularly fussy, but messes made my skin crawl. Wait, was thatplasticI heard?
“Didn’t I send you with reusable bags?”
He flattened his lips. “I forgot them in the car. I was cold and wanted to get it done with. I’ll pay my penance by saving each one and using it for a special project. I’ll braid them into sustainably woven baskets to hold organic apples or something. It’ll be fine.”
“Sure you will.”
The fridge door clunked open. I cringed, but at least he couldn’t see me while I nudged the chicken with a wooden spoon and refused to watch him thunk the three eighteen-packs of eggs down like they were deflated footballs and not flimsy cardboard holding something delicate and breakable.
“I will. Anyway, everything go okay with the occupant? Nice dude?”
I chuckled.There has never been a woman less dude-like in the history of mankind.Even with her hat covering half her face. But there were so few surprises in life, and I wanted him to have the same little discovery I’d had when he met her tomorrow. He’d waltz in expecting the image he’d crafted of the person behind the name, and instead, he’d find this surprisingly tall, striking woman. Not that I wanted him to find her beautiful. Not that I cared.Whatever.
“Seemed nice enough. Tired from travel. Asked if I was wearing chaps.” I turned and saw him startle.
“Really?”
“Well, I was. But yeah. Not sure why that was such a surprising sight, but there you have it.”
“Huh. Guess Callaway Rice is more of a city person.”
I stifled my laugh then. I had no idea if she was a city person. I didn’t know a thing about her but wouldn’t mind finding out.
Ironic that a truly interesting person had moved in directly next door when I’d been scouring an app, searching for even a whiff of that same desire I felt with Calla for a few seconds with what felt like innumerable women. Maybe that was the power of meeting someone in real life.
Or maybe it’s justthiswoman.
Bags rustled as he unloaded the rest of the groceries. I dished up rice and stir-fry into shallow bowls and topped them with thin-sliced scallions and a sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds. I’d started following this food blogger lately, because my life had become pathetic, and she was big on garnishes. I’d held out for a while, but once I caved, I realized just what a difference they made to both presentation and flavor.
“This looks amazing. I’m starving.” He grabbed his plate and a glass of water and shuffled to the table situated right here in the kitchen with a view out to the living room. Mom and Grandma Tilda had been ahead of their time when they designed the space decades ago.
