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"Okay, let's take a look then. Oh, and another agent is bringing a client by to look at it. We might bump into them."
They went in through the back, into the kitchen. It needed serious updating but it had a good layout, and Ian could see it would be an easy job to replace the existing cabinets and do a remodel. Not cheap, but no walls needed to be moved either. He liked the light and the woodwork and the hardwood floors. He was feeling cautiously optimistic when they headed into the living room.
There he just stopped and stared. Holy shit. It was the room, the house, from his dream. It had the same musty smell, the same dusty floor.
The same bare and lonely Christmas tree standing in a corner.
The agent was running on and on about the previous owner and how the house had such potential, but Ian barely heard a word.
It was the house.
And the front door was opening.
He turned and there was Bree, walking into the house.
She saw him, and he felt it, just like in his dream. Her disappointment in him, her longing. The mutual ache from both their hearts.
God, he was in love with her. It was crazy, impossible, but he was.
Just looking at her standing there, snow on her boots, coat bundled up to her throat, gloves on, nose red from the cold, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms.
"Ian?" she said. "What are you doing here?" She stepped into the entry hall.
He cleared his throat, which was suddenly tight. "I was thinking I might like a place in the country. I found this one by accident."
"Really?" Bree moved into the doorway of the living room, pausing between the open pocket doors. She looked around the room and gasped. "Oh, Ian." There were instant tears in her eyes. "This is the house in our dream."
"Bree," he said, moving toward her, unable to stop himself from taking her hands in his. "I'm so sorry about Darius and the house . . . I swear I had no idea what he was doing. I'll give you the money, I'll do whatever you want me to do to prove that I would never intentionally hurt you. Please understand that. I really, really . . . love you." He couldn't believe he'd said that out loud, but it was true, and he wanted her to know. Ian cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her forehead. "You can think I'm insane, but it's true. I know you. Does that make sense?"
"Yes." Her hands wrapped around his wrists, and she kissed the inside of his palm. "I know you had no part in Damiano's offer. I'm sorry I overreacted. I was hurt and overwhelmed, and I always react with emotion."
"I understand."
Bree looked up at him, saw the love he had for her shining in his dark eyes and she felt the peace, the happiness she had asked for. This was the man she wanted, whether it made sense or not, whether it was too soon or not. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and she knew that Ian was, quite literally, the man of her dreams. "I love you," she said. "And this is our house, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is." Ian smiled down at her. "Let's take the rest of the tour together."
"Yeesh, it takes forever to wrestle this car seat out of the car."
Bree turned to see Amanda Delmar Tucker stumbling in the front door in her jeans, a trench coat, and boots with two-inch heels, massive handbag over one arm and a baby carrier over the other. Amanda's son was nothing but a round bald head surrounded by fleece in his car seat. Her daughter, Piper, was standing behind Amanda, holding a diaper bag and peering curiously into the house.
Amanda stuck her sunglasses on her head and took a deep breath. "I feel like a pack mule." Then she seemed to finally realize what she was looking at. "Ian. What the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm buying this house, Amanda."
Amanda set the carrier down and slammed the front door shut. She came toward them, hand out. "No, you're not. Bree is. You've already let your client screw her out of one house, you're not screwing her personally out of another."
Bree thought it was awesome that Amanda was willing to go to the mat for her. But in this case, she didn't actually need to. Bree snuggled closer to Ian. "Actually, it's okay for Ian to screw me personally in this case."
Ian laughed. It took Amanda a second, but then she just said, "Hello. Not in front of my kids, okay? But what do you mean? What's really going on here?"
Ian said, "I think that Bree and I have decided to buy this house together, fifty-fifty. Am I right?" He looked to her for confirmation.
She had never been more sure of anything. "Absolutely."
"I'm confused," the real-estate agent who had been with Ian said.
"Hey, look," Piper said. The little girl had dumped the diaper bag on the floor and was wandering around the room. "There's still an ornament on this tree. It's a cat."
