Page 15 of That Reilly Boy
“How come you never got married? I thought Jacob Brophy would have been down on one knee the day after graduation.”
“Jacob told me his parents convinced him making commitments before going off to college is a bad idea. He started his freshman year in Maine and brought a fiancée home for Thanksgiving. Then he brought a different fiancée home for spring break in his sophomore year. Neither of those women was the fiancée he married two summers later.”
“Aaron was invited to his third wedding.”
She smiles. “I heard his mother bought a sheet cake for the reception.”
“Pretty strong statement from a woman who owns a bakery.”
“Listen, that woman can be petty. Even though her son dumped me years ago, basically at her suggestion, I think Mrs. Brophy has deliberately trained her Chihuahua to hate me.” She sets down her fork and glares at me. “Wait. I started dating Jacob Brophy during my senior year. You were already gone, so how do you know about me and Jacob dating? And don’t tell me gossip from your mom because there’s no chance she was sending you cheery little updates about the Gamble family goings-on.”
I don’t like to expose my weaknesses, as a rule, but I’m not going to get anywhere with Cara if I don’t. “Sometimes, if I had too much to drink, I’d sneak out of a party and text Aaron to ask about you.”
Her expression changes, and I have a hard time reading it. There’s annoyance, of course, because I lost my right to know anything about her life on homecoming night. But there’s something softer, too—almost sad—and I can’t help but wonder what might have been if I’d reached out to her instead of to my brother.
Then she shrugs it off. “Believe it or not, in this town it’s not easy to find a man you’ve haven’t been annoyed by since preschool. Or a man who wants a wife who comes with the baggage of a falling down house and Gin Gamble for a mother-in-law.”
“You wouldn’t move out if you got married?”
“And leave her alone to try to take care of that house by herself?” Her pretty eyes lose their sparkle. “I can’t bring myself to do that.”
This is the moment—the opportunity to bring Cara around to my side of the negotiating table. “This is our shot, then. Help me make this deal happen and I’ll save that house and you’ll be free to live the life you want.”
Chapter Eleven
Cara
You’ll be free to live the life you want.
Hayden’s words echo around in my head while I savor the truly delicious chicken parm. Living the life I want sounds like a wonderful thing, even if I can’t really picture what that would look like.
My father managed a lumber yard two towns away, and I grew up knowing my family lived paycheck to paycheck. But since losing my dad, Gin and I are basically living day to day—from grooming appointment to grooming appointment. Every day I wake up hoping nothing goes wrong and then I go to bed at night, only to lie awake shifting income projections and expenses around in my head. That doesn’t exactly leave any space for daydreaming about what I’d rather be doing.
“Do you have any kind of insider information about this town?” I ask abruptly, not willing to let him believe he has the upper hand so easily.
“What do you mean?”
“Is there something that’s going to happen, like a business moving in or something else being developed, that’s going to make our property worth a ton of money in the future?”
His smile makes my skin hot, and I take a long sip of my water. “That’s a good question, and no, I don’t have any information along those lines. There are no external factors at play here—just me wanting to restore what used to be the most beautiful building in town.”
I lean toward believing him, mostly because if there was so much as a whisper about something big coming to Sumac Falls, it would be the worst kept secret ever. I probably would have heard about it at the market already. “Okay.”
“Realistically, how much longer do you think you can live there if nothing changes?” he asks.
I want to bristle at the question, but it’s one I ask myself practically every day. “We do what we can, but it’s a lot for two women alone. Just heating the place eats up more money than you can imagine, so there’s not a lot left for painting and repairs. If something goes wrong structurally…not long.”
It hurts to admit that out loud, but it’s not as though it’s a secret. Anybody even randomly driving by can see Gin and I aren’t able to keep up the property the way it deserves.
“Every day, the condition and value of your property drops, and it’s already unlikely a buyer could get a mortgage approved for it at any price. Not without a ton of work being done to get it past the necessary inspections, anyway.” He’s speaking matter-of-factly, with no judgement that I can hear. “She’s never going to get another offer like mine. Not today and definitely not weeks or months or years from now.”
“I know, and that’s the only reason I’m here.” Did he flinch slightly at those words? Maybe. Or maybe it’s just my imagination acting up because I’d like to think he regrets blowing his chance with me.
Seventeen years ago, I remind myself. The time we spent together was such a small blip in time, he probably barely remembers we were even a thing.
I don’t like you.
You used to.
