Chapter Two
Meredith’s car’s GPS guided her to the house she’d found for sale by owner on Craigslist. She pulled into the driveway and parked behind a navy blue SUV. The house was exactly as pictured in the ad. The SUV must belong to the owner, she figured, who had agreed to meet her here. She’d texted him at her last stop for gas.
The SUV was unoccupied, so she opened her car door, phone in hand, ready to text him again and let him know she was here. But she didn’t have to because just then she spied him loping around the corner of the single-car garage.
She’d never spoken to him, but somehow she’d created a mental image of him from their brief e-mails and texts. She had pictured a checked flannel shirt and overalls. Perhaps a pair of baggy jeans that showed a little too much skin when he bent over. He’d told her he had renovated the house himself, so she’d thought he’d look a little more like the construction worker of her imagination.
You read too much, she admonished herself. She had a bad habit of conjuring up ideas about people with very little information to go on. She did it with customer service representatives she dealt with only on the phone. Or pitchmen in radio ads. She would create a whole scenario about them just from listening to their voice. She’d done the same thing with this guy based on his e-mails and texts. And her imagination couldn’t have been more wrong.
The jeans, though, she got right. But they fit him. He looked comfortable in them. Maybe they were his favorite pair. The flannel shirt she got right, too, but it was a solid gray, and underneath, he wore a black thermal shirt against the chill in the November air.
“Meredith?” he said as he approached, his hand outstretched. “Meredith Clark? Hi. I’m Noah.”
She took his hand, and hers got lost in the warmth of his. She smiled automatically because that’s what she normally did at an introduction. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, because, once again, her internal autopilot saved her.
He released her hand. “Ready for the tour?”
She liked his smile. She liked everything about him so far, she decided as she followed him to the front steps. The fact that she liked him probably meant that he was married. Or at least spoken for. She had a bit of a history of being attracted to men who were, for one reason or another, unavailable.
Noah pushed the interior door open and held the storm door so she could walk in ahead of him. He stopped behind her because she hadn’t given him much room. She thought she could feel his body sending heat in her direction. But that was surely only because of the temperature of the empty room.
She tugged her jacket more tightly around her and rubbed her upper arms as she moved farther into the living room. “There’s a fireplace!” she exclaimed. She crossed the wood floor to examine it.
“It’s not very big,” Noah said. “And it’s gas. But it will put out a bit of heat when it’s on.”
“Nice proportions,” she said as she crossed the room and turned to face him. Already, she was envisioning a sectional sofa, a coffee table, end tables, and lamps.
“Kitchen’s through there,” Noah said, indicating an arched doorway.
“Oh, this is gorgeous.” Meredith ran her hand along the countertops, noting the new gas range and the stainless-steel farmhouse sink.
“Concrete countertop,” Noah said. “The cabinets are oak.”
“Room for a table and chairs,” she noted.
A big window looked out over the backyard. There was an ancient swing set that looked sturdy despite its age. The lot backed up onto a wooded area.
“I have to see this back porch.” She fiddled with the door, figured out how to unlock it, and stepped outside. Noah followed, taking a seat on the low wall that surrounded the porch.
Again she envisioned how she could make this place her own. Resin furniture, comfy cushions, maybe a swing or a glider. Hanging plants, trailing vines, and flowers in the summer. That is, if she could find some that would survive her brown thumb.
“The land behind the yard is part of the county’s conservation plan. Nothing will be built there.”
“I do like my privacy,” she joked. His eyes were dark blue, she noted, and she got the feeling they didn’t miss a trick. She liked his quiet presence. He wasn’t trying to hurry her along. In fact, he acted like he had nothing better to do than be here with her.
They went back inside. “This used to be the dining room,” Noah informed her. “But you can use it however you want.”
Design ideas began clicking through Meredith’s mind again.
Down the hall were two bedrooms with a decent-sized bathroom between them. Next to the bathroom was space for a stackable washer and dryer. That would certainly be convenient. One of the rooms, meant to be the master, she supposed, had a big, custom-designed closet with lots of storage. The window looked out over the front lawn.
“That’s an oak tree,” Noah said, looking over her shoulder at the bare tree with giant, naked branches. “It’ll give you a lot of shade in the summer.”
“And a lot of leaves on the ground in the fall.”
“But raking them is good exercise.”
She looked at him, wondering if she ought to be offended. “What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything,” Noah said evenly, refusing to take the bait she had offered. “You look like you’re in pretty good shape, so you probably work out regularly. I was merely pointing out that raking leaves is good exercise, a benefit, if you will, of having that oak tree in your front yard.”
“It’s not my front yard.”
“Well, not yet.” Noah grinned at her. “Come on, admit it. This house is perfect for you.”
“What I’ll admit is that you seem desperate to sell it.”
They meandered back to the living room, where he turned to her and said, “You caught me. I would like to sell it because I’d like to buy another fixer-upper. This was my grandmother’s house, so it’s kind of special to me.”
“Your grandmother’s? And you’re selling it? Why don’t you live here?”
“I spent many good times here, trust me, but it’s not home to me anymore.”
Meredith frowned, wondering at the meaning behind his words. “Can I let you know?”
“You’re not going to commit?” Noah’s tone sounded teasing, but she sensed that he was disappointed.
“I’d like to sleep on it. Could we meet tomorrow?”
“There’s a coffee shop on the north side of the square called the Grind. Ten o’clock?”
“Perfect.” And it really was. Actually, this trip was becoming a bit more than perfect.