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“What is it?” he asked.
“I just said I can’t sell it to you. But that doesn’t mean we can’t come to some sort of agreement.”
Hope flashed into his eyes, and I saw a smile spread across his face.
“An agreement, huh?” he asked. “What sort of agreement?”
“How about a lease?” I asked. “You can rent the building from me. And I’ll give you permission to make the renovations.”
“I see,” he said. Callum stepped closer so we were inches away, the heat building once more between us. “So, I get to pay you rent and pay for the renovations? What sort of deal is that?”
“The deal I’m offering,” I teased, trying to keep my voice stern as we played at this negotiation. Callum’s hands reached out to my hips, and he pulled me against him so my legs pressed against his.
“You’re a tough negotiator,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He bent down and kissed me, pulling my hips further into him. I was desperate to melt into this embrace and see where it would lead us, but a small voice in the back of my mind told me to exercise restraint. We hadn’t finished with the business arrangements, and I needed to be sure Callum understood what I was agreeing to before we celebrated.
I pulled away from the kiss and tried to step back, but his hands held me tight. He looped his fingers through the belt loops of my jeans and put on a goofy grin that told me he wasn’t about to let me go.
“We have more to talk about,” I said, attempting to keep my voice firm. I was trying to be responsible and act like an adult instead of some excited teenager who was only thinking about making out.
“So, talk,” he said with a little shrug. I looked into those dark eyes and the hair that was always falling into his eyes. I brought my hands up to his chest and playfully pushed him away.
“Not like this,” I laughed. “I can’t think!”
“Then how?” he said. “You tell me how you want to negotiate!”
There was an ease and an openness to him that made me feel giddy as I spoke to him. Callum seemed lighter somehow, and I couldn’t help catching that sense of excitement and possibility that seemed to radiate out from him. He seemed genuinely excited about turning this place into something, and I started to feel hopeful that I would get to come along for the ride.
“Come to the office,” I said. My dad’s office hadn’t been used in ages. I pictured the paperwork piled up on the desk and the bankers’ boxes that cluttered the floor. But it was somewhere we could sit and put a bit of distance between us.
“Lead the way,” he said.
I turned and crossed to the back, trying not to worry about how I put each foot in front of the other. Knowing Callum was right behind me, watching me, made me feel like I no longer understood how to move my body. I pushed away the impulse to look back over my shoulder and simply continued past the checkout desk and shoved my way through the door that was marked “Staff Only”.
I couldn’t help thinking about the first day Callum was in the hardware store. I remembered the lights clicking off and fumbling my way back to the utility closet. I remembered the excitement I felt to know he was standing so close behind me, shining a light on the fuse box. And I remembered that first kiss ...
I shook off the memory and crossed into the office, feeling Callum directly behind me. The office was even messier than I remembered, with tons of floor space taken up with my dad’s paperwork. I knew cleaning out this office was a project I would need to tackle soon but, in that moment, I simply pretended not to see the boxes precariously stacked around the room. Luckily the desk was relatively clean, and I took a seat in my dad’s faded-leather rolling chair. I could smell Callum’s aftershave as I sat down, the scent wafting out around me.
“We should make it official,” Callum joked from the doorway, though I wasn’t sure what he meant. Suddenly he knocked on the doorframe, as if I didn’t know he was standing there.
“Excuse me, I’m here to discuss a leasing opportunity with you.”
Callum bent his head down to play the submissive and eager tenant. I rolled my eyes at him.
“Just sit down,” I laughed. “You’re being ridiculous.”
He rushed in and took a seat across from me. I saw him glance around at the room with amusement.
“I know, I know,” I said, catching his gaze. “I need to clean it out. I just haven’t gotten to it yet.”
“Now I know why you don’t want to sell,” he said. “You can’t face all the cleaning!”
“It’s definitely part of it!” I said, and, though it was a joke, there was truth to it. If I sold or even rented the store, I would have to get rid of all the items inside of it. Suddenly I was thinking about weeks of cleaning and sorting and throwing things away. Logistics such as dumpsters and rental trucks started flowing through my head.
“I can help with that,” Callum offered, as if he could read the worry on my face. “You don’t have to clean it out by yourself.”
“Thanks,” I said, giving him a small smile. I felt a sudden sadness at the prospect of it all. “It’s something I should have done a long time ago.”
Callum nodded at me, and I was grateful for the sympathy I saw on his face. But all this talk of cleaning made me realize we needed to discuss timeline.
