Chase Love sat on the couch in his office, his two-year-old niece asleep on his lap. Her older sister lay on the floor near his feet, her forehead puckered in concentration as she plied bright crayons to her favorite coloring book.
At the conference table across the room, real estate agent Sawyer Thurston was on her cell phone, trying once again to negotiate a deal with Chase’s irascible third cousin. A decade earlier Rufus Calloway had inherited a tumbledown Charleston house that had sentimental value to Chase’s mother. Since then, Maybelle Love had been trying to convince her estranged cousin to sell the abandoned property.
“I don’t care how much they’re offering!” Rufus’s enraged voice came through the cell phone’s speaker loud and clear. “That family is never going to get their hands on my property.”
After the declaration, Rufus must’ve put an end to the conversation because Sawyer lowered the phone and blew out a weary breath. “Well, that’s a hard no.”
“Yeah.”
Sensing business was done for the moment, four-year-old Annabelle was a blond streak as she sprang off the floor and skipped toward Sawyer. “Look what I colored.”
“Wow!” Chase’s longtime friend crouched to admire the drawing. “That’s really beautiful. When you’re done with it, may I put it up in my office?”
“Oh, yes.” Always pleased to have her artwork praised, Annabelle carried the coloring book back to the box of crayons on the floor.
While his niece returned to her art, Sawyer made her way toward him. To accommodate the muggy July temperatures, the slender brunette wore a sleeveless white blouse and bright floral skirt.
“What’s our next step?” Chase asked, indicating the empty cushion beside him.
Sawyer settled onto the sofa, glanced at the sleeping child and shot him a look of grim determination. “Rufus is not going to sell the property to anyone in your family.”
“I’m not ready to give up.”
“I know. It’s just that rumor has it his financial situation has gotten worse. He’s going to sell the property to someone and it’s not going to be anyone in your family. That being said, I might have a buyer who would satisfy both Rufus and your mom.”
Chase hated the idea that the Calloway property would slip through his family’s fingers, but Rufus was holding all the cards. “My mom wants the house restored to its former glory. If we can’t buy the property, it’s important that the buyer understands the home’s historic significance. It will destroy her if the home is torn down and a modern monstrosity gets built in its place.”
“I know.” Sawyer shot him an exasperated look. They’d had this conversation so many times over the years. “This person is keen to renovate a historic property. As soon as I found out Rufus was going to sell, I got in touch with her and told her all about it.” Sawyer’s real estate focus was primarily on historical properties and she frequently brought clients to East Bay Construction, the renovation and construction company owned by Chase and his partner Knox Poole. “I explained that you’ve done all the preliminary work getting the architectural plans ready and figuring out what structural work needs to happen to bring the buildings up to code. She’s really excited to work with you.”
“You already talked to someone?” Chase wasn’t happy with this development, but he appreciated Sawyer’s pragmatism. Their mother was dead set on owning the property and stubbornly refused to consider any options. “Who is it?”
“Someone new to the area,” Sawyer said, and seeing Chase’s frown, rushed to add, “but with strong ties to one of Charleston’s oldest families.”
Something about Sawyer’s caginess sparked concern. “Who is it?” He repeated the question with soft menace.
“Teagan Burns.” Sawyer actively avoided meeting his gaze as she spoke.
“Ethan’s cousin?” Chase was stunned by the suggestion. Ever since showing up in Charleston last month, the New York socialite had been making trouble for Chase’s best friend, Ethan Watts. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on. She’s the exact sort of client you love to work with. Passionate about restoration.” Dimples flashed in Sawyer’s cheeks as she added in a coaxing tone, “Unlimited funds.”
Chase ignored Sawyer’s teasing, unwilling to even consider her suggestion. “You neglected to add drama-free,” he prompted.
“I found her to be sensible, smart and quite likable. And I’ve already pitched her you as her partner on the project.”
Unconvinced, Chase shook his head. “That will never work.”
“Come on.” The enthusiasm in Sawyer’s blue-gray eyes took on greater fervor. “She’s smart, ambitious and knows exactly what she wants.”
“You sound like you feel sorry for her.”
“She made a mistake. I don’t think she’s a terrible person. You know why she’s interested in the Calloway property, right?”
“Because she wants to renovate a historic house.”
“And provide transition homes for women leaving domestic abuse situations.”
Leave it to Sawyer to hit him where he was most vulnerable. For many years, his older sister had been in an abusive relationship. She’d done an excellent job hiding the situation from her family and Chase had never forgiven himself for missing the signs. When at last Nola had managed to escape her situation, she’d had her family to turn to. Not all women were as lucky.
“It’s why she’s been looking for multi-family properties,” Sawyer continued. “I’ve shown her several buildings and homes around downtown Charleston, but the Calloway house was the first one that fired her imagination.”
“So she’s seen it?” The poor condition of the turn-of-the-century Victorian had been scaring off buyers for a decade.
“Just the listing photos. I’m showing her the property in a bit.” Sawyer leaned forward. “I know you and your mom are dying to have a say in how the main house is restored and Teagan wants to do some good in the community. It’s a win-win for everyone.”
“All I see is a scheming troublemaker who intends to manipulate things to make herself look better.” Chase couldn’t imagine accepting Teagan as a client. “And I don’t trust her not to cause my mother more distress.”
“I am convinced she recognizes how badly she screwed up and will be honest and straightforward from now on.”
Chase shook his head. “I’m not sure she can help herself. Look how she schemed to muscle in on Ethan’s position at Watts Shipping and tried to involve her sister in the scheme.”
“She admitted that was a huge miscalculation. I’m convinced that she came to Charleston determined to fit in with her biological family and misjudged how close the Wattses are and how they rally around each other. She’s devastated that everyone is so mad at her.”
Ethan’s family had been looking for the missing Watts heiress for years and had finally found her after a genetic testing service had connected the biological relatives. Her arrival in Charleston had been greatly anticipated; however, she hadn’t turned out to be all they’d hoped.
From what Chase had heard from his best friend, Teagan wasn’t interested in developing a relationship with her Charleston family. Instead, she’d set her sights on being named the next CEO of the family’s company, Watts Shipping, a position Ethan had expected would be his one day. In order to do this, she’d had to distract her cousin from figuring out what she was up to. Teagan had encouraged the attraction between Ethan and her adoptive sister, never imagining the pair would actually fall in love, or that Sienna would choose to take Ethan’s side.
“You should at least hear her out before rejecting the idea,” Sawyer said.
Chase wasn’t convinced. “How did you two meet?”
“Through Poppy not long after Teagan arrived in town. Way before everything with Ethan blew up.” Poppy Shaw was Ethan’s cousin. It spoke to how badly Teagan had mucked up with her Charleston relations that Poppy, a free spirit with a forgiving nature, refused to stick up for her. “I’ve shown her a bunch of houses that need restoration, but none of them were quite right for her needs. I think the Calloway property would be perfect.”
Despite the crushing disappointment at not being able to secure the house for his mother, Chase could see the potential in finding a buyer eager to bring the historic home back to its former glory. But not Teagan Burns. The partnership would aggravate his best friend and Chase couldn’t trust her altruistic motives.
“No.”
Sawyer narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“Because she’s from New York City.”
The real estate agent released an exasperated breath. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“This is my family’s house we’re talking about. She won’t be able to appreciate the history—”
“There are plenty of historic buildings in New York.”
“Buildings they’re tearing down to make way for modern skyscrapers.”
“You haven’t even met the woman. Why not at least hear her out?” When he didn’t immediately refuse, Sawyer’s expression grew calculated. “I’m meeting her in fifteen minutes at the house.”
It was looking like whether or not he was on board, Teagan Burns might become the owner of the Calloway property. Grinding his teeth, Chase pondered the sleeping child draped across his legs and the one with the tip of her tongue stuck out as she colored a cartoon alligator. What was he supposed to do with his nieces? Nola wouldn’t be back to pick up her daughters for at least another hour.
“Bring them along,” Sawyer said, reading his mind.
Chase grunted. “To a business meeting?”
“So, now it’s a business meeting?” Sawyer looked pleased. “That means you’re actually considering working with Teagan on the project.”
Was he? More likely, she would take one look at the ramshackle Victorian and reject it out of hand. The condition of the house and scope of the project would intimidate even the most experienced developer. He doubted the transplanted socialite would have the gumption to tackle a full restoration. Which meant the house’s future was in jeopardy.
“It means,” Chase grumbled, “I’m committed to saving my mother’s ancestral home.”
A bold statement, but his disquiet about Teagan persisted as he eased to the curb fifteen minutes later before the house owned by Rufus Calloway. Its position, directly across John Street from Chase’s home, offered a constant reminder of the bad blood between the two branches of his family. Five years prior, Chase had purchased his historic “single house” fixer-upper and begun its transformation, hoping that Rufus would see the fine work being done and sell Chase his rundown Victorian. Unfortunately, his third cousin wasn’t about to give up on the grudge that had twisted his family for a hundred years.
A white metallic Mercedes SUV sat before the property. On the sidewalk side of the vehicle stood a willowy blonde woman with her back to him.
Teagan Burns.
Although she’d been in Charleston for many weeks, Chase hadn’t had time to meet her. Too many renovation projects needed completion to be entered into the city’s annual Carolopolis Awards. And considering how poorly the socialite had treated his best friend, Chase was glad he hadn’t wasted his time on her.
Now, if he wanted to do right by his mother’s ancestral home, it looked like he wasn’t going to have a choice.
With his jaw locked, Chase took her in. A sleeveless cream-colored dress skimmed her slender curves while a large designer bag, handles nestled in the crook of her left elbow, drew attention to her toned arms. Beachy waves of golden locks cascaded to her waist. Polished and sophisticated, she looked out of place in front of the weathered, gray structure.
Four-year-old Annabelle had fallen asleep during the ten-minute drive and grumbled as Chase lifted her out of her car seat and set her on her feet. In contrast, Hazel had been revived by her earlier nap and was raring to go.
Sawyer had not yet arrived as Chase made his way across the street—flanked by his nieces—and approached the New Yorker. “Ms. Burns?”
Teagan turned at the sound of her name and her eyes widened as she took Chase in. Something primal and alluring flared in her eyes, and for a moment his awareness of the street and his nieces fell away.
“I’m Chase Love.”
“Well, hello.” Her breathless greeting and dazzling smile left him momentarily blindsided.
Although Ethan had shown him pictures of Teagan Burns when it first came to light that she was the long-lost daughter of his aunt Ava, those images didn’t have the impact of seeing Teagan’s beauty in person.
“Sawyer Thurston is a business associate of mine. When she mentioned that you were interested in the Calloway property, she thought it would be good if I was here for the walk-through since I know it so well.”
Since his name triggered no recognition, he’d left out his connection to Ethan. If they ended up working together in the future, he would have to deal with that problem then.
“Of course. Your company has a wonderful reputation when it comes to historic renovations. I look forward to hearing your evaluation.” She cocked her head and glanced at his nieces. “And who are these two?”
“I’m Annabelle and this is my sister, Hazel.”
Both girls favored their mother in personality and could chat up a storm. Toddler Hazel wasn’t quite mastering full sentences, but she’d picked up several amusing phrases from her older sister.
“I’m Teagan.” Green eyes dancing with delight, she bent from the waist and extended her hand to Annabelle. “Nice to meet you both.”
The indulgent smile she bestowed on his nieces annoyed Chase. So did the way his gut contracted at the sucker punch of her flawless beauty and disruptive charm. He’d expected her to be high-strung and bossy, a showy woman who relied on her looks and superior attitude to take charge. Instead, Teagan was a disconcerting blend of sensuality and elegance.
Although Hazel was usually wary of strangers, she bloomed beneath Teagan’s captivating smile and even reached out for a handshake. Before he realized what was happening, Chase caught himself appreciating the socialite’s ease with the children. A second later, her eyes snagged his and their palms came together. The unrelenting sun and muggy air made her skin a bit sweaty and awakened the citrus notes in her perfume, making his head swim. Captivated by her beauty and charm, his body flared with sudden sexual awareness. Panic followed. How could he possibly find her attractive? Doing so was a keen betrayal of Ethan’s friendship.
“Sawyer should be along any second.” Hating the husky note in his voice, Chase loosened his grip, setting her free. He cast a desperate glance toward the street, willing Sawyer to appear and rescue him. “In the meantime I can fill you in on some of the house’s background.”
“You said we could have ice cream,” Annabelle protested, tugging on his hand, the heat and her aborted nap making her cranky. “When are we going to get ice cream?”
“Ice cream,” Hazel echoed, jumping up and down on his left.
“Soon,” he soothed, glancing from the reproach in Annabelle’s blue eyes to Hazel’s flushed cheeks. He hit both girls with a winning smile, wondering if he could successfully tour the property before they melted down. “We just need to show Ms. Burns around this house.”
“Why?”
The answer left a bitter taste in his mouth. “Because she might want to buy it.”
Annabelle shot a dubious look at the place, taking in the weed-choked front yard and broken picket fence. “Why would she want to do that?” Her gaze shifted to Teagan. After taking her in, Annabelle leaned against Chase’s leg and stage-whispered, “Is she crazy?”
Chase mustered all his willpower and just managed to keep from glancing Teagan’s way. In somber tones, he declared, “It will be fixed up before she moves in.”
“I don’t know.” Annabelle made no secret of her skepticism. “It’s pretty ugly.”
“Making ugly houses into pretty ones is what I do,” he reminded her, flicking a look toward Teagan and finding her watching their exchange with interest.
“But this is really ugly.”
“That’s exactly why I want to buy it,” Teagan put in, her gaze taking on a fervent glow as her attention shifted from Annabelle to the derelict house. “I’m excited to restore this house so that it looks beautiful like all the other homes on the block.”
“We live in an old house,” Annabelle announced, shaking her head. “My mom always complains that stuff doesn’t work.”
Teagan’s lips curved in a wry smile. “Well, since your daddy is so good at fixing up old homes, maybe he could repair some of those things.”
“My dad’s a doctor.” Annabelle beamed. “He fixes people.”
“Oh.” A line appeared between Teagan’s perfect eyebrows. She shot a quizzical glance Chase’s way. “I’m sorry. I thought...”
“He’s not my daddy.” This amused Annabelle to no end.
“I’m their uncle,” Chase supplied as both his nieces dissolved into fits of giggles.
“I see...”
Teagan measured him with fresh perception, making Chase’s temperature spike. Apparently, she approved of the view because a half smile appeared and invisible threads of enticement radiated from her, reaching for him. His heart thumped in hard, erratic pulses, flooding his system with adrenaline. This woman was even more trouble than Ethan had made her out to be.
“Yes...well...”
He was never at a loss for words, but his acute reaction to Teagan caught him off guard. Worse, somehow, he’d misplaced his integrity. Finding himself attracted to the woman who’d injured his best friend went against everything Chase stood for. Ethan had always counted on Chase to have his back, which wouldn’t be the case as long as Chase perceived Teagan as anything other than a shallow, manipulative interloper out to harm anyone who got in her way. Time to dash icy water on this sizzling connection between them.
His phone pinged with a text. Glancing down, he scanned the message and ground his teeth. “Looks like Sawyer is delayed. She suggested we begin without her.”
Teagan must’ve picked up on his irritation because she gave a crisp nod and reined in her sex appeal, becoming all business. “Of course. Let’s get to it.”
Teagan took refuge in business, needing a moment to catch her breath and let her swooning senses recover their equilibrium. Although Sawyer had talked up the talented renovation specialist, the single promotional shot of him on his company’s website hadn’t prepared her for the impact of meeting the handsome, powerfully masculine architect in the flesh.
And then they’d shaken hands.
As if the heavy Charleston air wasn’t enough to raise her temperature, the sudden flash of heat when they’d touched had made a weird combination of goose bumps and perspiration erupt over her entire body. She was ridiculously glad that Chase Love was neither married nor the father of these adorable girls. While she’d met several charming men since coming to Charleston, not one had awakened a mad impulse to bat her eyelashes and swoon. The rugged renovation specialist inspired a giddy, breathless delight that made her want to melt against his sturdy, muscular frame.
Unfortunately, there was the little matter of the steely set of his jaw and flinty hazel eyes that took her in and found her wanting. Teagan would be blind not to see that the man didn’t like her. Still, his broad shoulders and stern demeanor sparked a mischievous impulse to flirt with him. Not a great idea when Teagan wanted to be taken seriously as a real estate investor. Runaway hormones would be a major problem if she’d be working in close contact with Chase for the foreseeable future. If being the operative word.
She was in the midst of wondering how to convince him she was an earnest businesswoman with definitive goals when the younger of the two girls said something that inspired his lips to curve into a fond smile. Her heart did a somersault.
Holy...wow! From forbidding to dishy in the blink of an eye. Teagan found herself swooning all over again.
“Shall we start with the three smaller residences?” Chase asked, blessedly oblivious to her inner turmoil. “My sister should be along in fifteen minutes to pick up these two. It’ll be better to see the main house without them as a distraction.”
“Sure,” she murmured, hoping he’d put down the heat in her cheeks to the unrelenting sunshine.
Chase gestured for her to precede him along the cracked concrete walk that led toward the lopsided front porch. Giving the main house a dubious glance, she headed past the crumbling Victorian and set her sights on the three buildings beyond. With Chase out of view, it was easier to reorient her thoughts and refocus on the reason she was here.
In addition to the main house, the large lot accommodated three guesthouses with individual addresses that she intended to fix up so they could become transition housing for women at risk. Teagan had been inspired to attempt the project after meeting Zoe Daily, owner of a boutique in downtown Charleston called Second Chance Treasures. The store specialized in arts and crafts items made by survivors of domestic abuse. Although she’d been looking for a historic home in need of renovation since coming to Charleston a month ago, Teagan was inspired to look for a property that could also serve women in need after hearing Zoe’s story of living in the back room of the boutique after leaving her abusive husband while she financed her dream of helping other women in similar circumstances.
“Sawyer mentioned they were in better shape than the main house.”
“They are. These houses have had tenants in them until recently,” Chase said, keeping an eye on his nieces as they explored the overgrown backyard. “They were built in the mid-fifties.”
A lockbox attached to the middle of the trio held the keys to all three. While Chase opened the front door, Teagan pursed her lips and pictured what she’d like to do to the exterior of each cottage. First of all, she intended to paint them bright colors to make each home feel special. White shutters and trim would tie them together.
Chase left to unlock the other two houses, leaving Teagan to peruse the middle one. A cozy living room, tiny kitchen, two decent sized bedrooms and a bathroom badly in need of updates. Lay down some durable flooring and add some modest but stylish furnishings and the place would be a sanctuary for women and children who badly needed a safe place to restart their lives.
“What do you think?” Chase asked as she exited the house.
“It’s not as bad as I expected. Barring any hidden problems in the walls, I imagine I could have them fixed up and ready in a month.” As Teagan checked out the other two houses, her enthusiasm for the project swelled.
“Ready to see the main house?” he asked, his expression less forbidding as he corralled his nieces and gestured toward the two-story Victorian.
“Sure.”
The original paint color had long ago faded from the nineteenth-century siding. The decades of neglect left Teagan wondering how much of the home’s original features remained intact. She was giddy with the idea of taking a historic home from disastrous to glorious. It would be so much better if the decorative moldings, heart pine floors and fireplaces were all there.
“Excuse me,” Chase said before heading away from her down the front walk.
Teagan had been so absorbed in the house, imagining it painted a buttery-yellow with turquoise and soft coral accents, that she hadn’t noticed a white SUV idling at the curb. A lovely blonde woman circled the vehicle to embrace the little girls. A sudden lump formed in Teagan’s throat as mother and daughters reconnected. Not once growing up had she or Sienna been that joyful to see Anna Burns. Their mother had never been a warm, affectionate woman. Her demonstrations of love took the form of shopping sprees and elegant lunches where the girls were expected to behave like civilized adults.
A stab of resentment caught Teagan off guard. She didn’t recall wanting her childhood to be different. Her adoptive parents Anna and Samuel Burns had given her everything money could buy and Teagan had no complaints about her private school education, designer everything or the incredible vacations in Europe. Sure, they didn’t hug, nurture or read bedtime stories. That’s what the nannies were for.
It wasn’t until Teagan arrived in Charleston and was welcomed into the arms of her biological family that she discovered the joy of being loved. A year earlier she’d submitted her DNA to a genetic testing service in the hopes of finding her father or connecting with her mother’s family. Never had she imagined that her search would lead her to Charleston.
Because her adoptive parents had raised her to be ambitious and prone to suspicion, Teagan had been on guard when her Southern family—her cousin Ethan excluded—had snatched her into their lives and showered her with gregarious affection. The lack of trust had led her to make a whole host of mistakes.
An overachiever from her crown to her toes, Teagan knew she couldn’t leave Manhattan behind without having something to make relocating to Charleston worth her while. Running her biological family’s company seemed like the perfect answer. That her cousin Ethan was already poised to become the next CEO of Watts Shipping was merely a hurdle to be cleared.
Unfortunately, her single-mindedness had led her to hurt the one person she’d always been able to rely on, her older sister Sienna. Adopted into the Burns family as an infant, Teagan’s experiences growing up on the Upper East Side of New York City had taught her to battle fiercely to achieve her goals. The cutthroat world often favored circuitous methods instead of straightforward action. And she’d brought those tactics to Charleston with disastrous results.
Teagan hadn’t taken into consideration that acting duplicitous wasn’t in Sienna’s nature when she’d badgered her sister into spying on Ethan for her. Nor had she predicted that her sister would fall in love with Ethan. It was Teagan’s fault that the couple had gone through a disastrous breakup before reconciling. If Teagan hadn’t been so focused on herself, she might’ve seen that something real and lasting had developed between the pair and backed off. Instead, she’d let stubborn determination blind her to what was best for Sienna.
Swept by uncomfortable emotion, Teagan turned her back on Chase and his family and concentrated on the house. The Victorian’s flaws were something tangible she could repair and restore. So much easier than fixing the broken relationships with her sister and Charleston relatives. Those couldn’t be improved by her design aesthetic or a bunch of money.
Since her biological family wasn’t speaking to her at the moment, Teagan decided she’d demonstrate she wasn’t a selfish, unfeeling shrew. She intended to behave. No more schemes or plots. She would display her philanthropic side by saving a historic home in downtown Charleston and offering three dwellings as a safe haven for victims of domestic abuse. In time, she hoped, someone would give her another chance.
“As you can see, the house is in rough shape,” Chase stated as he joined Teagan in the home’s gloomy twenty-foot-long foyer.
A zing of pleasure traveled along her nerve endings as his clean, masculine scent surrounded her like an enthusiastic hug. Her strong reaction to him was unexpected since he wasn’t her type. Teagan liked her men charming and flirtatious. Chase Love was serious and principled.
Nor had she come to Charleston to find romance.
But that body. His beautiful face. And those piercing green eyes.
He was a tantalizing enigma and she couldn’t bring herself to dismiss how he made her feel.
Tearing her gaze from his forbidding profile, Teagan glanced around her. Undaunted by the boarded-up windows, peeling wallpaper, water-stained ceiling and filthy pine floors, she surveyed the original fireplace details, nine-foot pocket door that separated the living and dining rooms and intact plaster details.
“I’ve looked at a lot of options around the downtown area,” she said. “Some worse. Some in better shape. At least this one has a roof. And all the extra houses fit perfectly with my vision for the property.”
“It’s a lot to take on,” Chase continued, shooting her a sideways glance.
“I don’t know how much you know about my background in New York...” She strolled down the wide hallway leading toward the kitchen at the back of the house.
“Sawyer mentioned you’ve bought and rehabilitated several historic properties in Manhattan.”
“I have. It’s important to save architectural gems for future generations to appreciate.”
Chase studied her for a moment before asking, “So, why not stay there and do that?”
Startled by his cool tone, Teagan’s chin rose defensively. “Because I was hoping for a new start with my Charleston family.”
Silence fell between them as room by room they moved through the house. Tiny tracks in the dirt indicated a whole slew of critters had invaded when the humans had moved out. Teagan’s attention kept shifting between her surroundings and her heightened awareness of her muscular tour guide. His keen gaze missed none of the house’s flaws and he took special care to point out every problem she’d encounter during the restoration.
“I feel as if you’re trying to talk me out of buying the house,” Teagan said as they stepped onto the sketchy front porch.
From their brief interaction, she’d gathered that he was a straight shooter, someone who wouldn’t sugarcoat the situation or cheat her. Given the sketchy business practices she’d encountered in New York City and the incessant machinations of her social group, Teagan found Chase’s candid approach refreshing.
“I just want to be clear.” Chase grappled with the stubborn lock on the front door, before saying, “It needs a lot of work.”
“I already knew that from the photos.” Teagan couldn’t stop smiling. Everything inside her was screaming that this was the property she was meant to have. “But most of the work will happen on the main house. It’s really just cosmetic fixes for the three homes in the back.”
“It’s going to be expensive. And with a property this neglected, the potential for hidden problems is enormous.”
“Regardless, I think this is the perfect project for me.” Unwilling to be deterred, Teagan stepped gingerly to the loose railing and surveyed the neighborhood. “I know I’m going to love it here when it’s done.”
Snorting at her enthusiastic proclamation, Chase deftly avoided the rotten boards as he descended to the safer footing of the front walk. While he waited for her to join him, Chase pulled out his phone and scanned the screen. During the tour, the smartphone had buzzed numerous times, but he’d never checked any of the messages. She was accustomed to managing multiple tasks at the same time, giving none of them her complete attention, but this man brought purpose and drive to whatever he set his mind to. Teagan found it both thrilling and daunting.
“I’m going to call Sawyer right now and put in an offer,” Teagan said, pulling out her own device. She was in the process of scrolling through her contacts when Chase spoke.
“Before you do,” he began in clipped, harsh tones, “you should know that I have reservations about taking you on as a client.”
This was not at all what she wanted to hear. Still, she had sharp wits and charismatic charm in her bag of tricks.
“I see.” Teagan set aside her frustration. She couldn’t tackle a problem unless she knew what was wrong. “Anything you care to share with me?”
Chase pondered her question in silence, his features set into disgruntled lines. “Not yet.”
As much as Chase’s reluctance disappointed her, Teagan sensed it would do her no good to push him. “Thanks for meeting with me today. I’ll let you know when I hear back from Sawyer that the buyer has accepted my offer.”
They parted and headed to their cars. Before she got in, Teagan gave the weathered Victorian one long last look. In order to realize her vision for the property, Chase must accept her as a client. His passion for restoring historic homes matched her zeal for preservation. They would make a fantastic team and she intended to make him realize that. Because once she set her sights on something, she usually got it.
And right now, she wanted Chase Love.
Copyright © 2022 by Catherine Schield