Page 74 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

A hot flare lights up my chest. “You want to claim me as yours, Mags?”

She nods, looking adorably shy. “I’m still not ready for sleepovers. Something about having my space in that way makes me feel safer. Which maybe doesn’t make sense, but I was talking about you to a coworker today, and it felt weird calling you a friend when you’re so much more.”

Who needs sleepovers when I get tender vulnerability in addictive doses?

“I’d be honored to be your official boyfriend. But just so you know, you’ve been my girlfriend since your sister’s birthday party. You have catching up to do.”

She laughs and latches herself around my side again. I release a happy sigh, thankful for her trust and this step forward. Building a foundation on friendship, laughter, and amazing sex can only help us. When she’s ready to be all in, everything we have will be heightened tenfold.

I walk her to her Jeep and pause by her door. “If you’re free tomorrow, I have something on my property I’d like to show you.”

She quirks her eyebrow. “If you’re practicing trip wires and booby traps for your brothers, I’ll pass.”

“As entertaining as that would be,” I say, feeling strangely self-conscious, “this is a specific surprise just for you.”

Her expression softens. “I’d love to come.”

I kiss her softly and watch as she gets in her Jeep and drives away. I turn to head to my truck, but I spot Mrs. Jackson walking toward the gallery with her grandson Kyle, his tattooed wife, Cearra, and their cute daughter.

Before I think too much, I jog up to them. “You guys heading to the gallery?”

They stop and Kyle smirks. “Excellent deduction skills, Sherlock.”

“Ha, yeah. Sorry.” The Yard Goat Gallery is the only building on this quiet end of the street. My sudden nerves are stealing my cool. “It’s a great exhibit. You’ll enjoy it.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself as well.” Cearra gives me a knowing look. “Saw you chatting with Maggie by her Jeep.”

“We’re dating,” I say, pleased I can share that fact with Maggie’s blessing. But I face Mrs. Jackson, a tangle of jitters gathering in my stomach. “I’d actually like to talk with you for a minute, if you don’t mind.”

Holding her purse close to her plentiful stomach, she pats Kyle’s arm. “Head on in without me. I’ll meet you inside.”

When we’re alone, she smiles kindly at me. “This is about the property.”

“It is,” I say, barreling ahead. Not thinking. Not worrying. Just doing. “I love that house—the land and everything about it. Ever since you told me you wanted to sell, it’s been eating me up. And I actually might have the funds to get a mortgage and buy it from you. Enough to match your other offer, and I swear I’d take good care of the place. Not bulldoze it and turn into some fancy sterile house with no heart. I’d keep the integrity of what you and your family created, but I realize you’ve also made other commitments with that other deal.”

“Lennon.” Her full cheeks round with kindness. “I would love nothing more than to see you in that house. You’ve been doing work on the place, even when it wasn’t your responsibility. With everything you and your family have been through, I’d be honored to be part of this new chapter of your life. The other buyer has been slow to move forward. If you can match the price, consider the house yours.”

I nod as an overwhelmed flush moves up my neck. “Can you give me a couple weeks to figure this out? And if your buyer makes a move earlier, let me know.”

“Absolutely.” She dips her head, then walks toward the gallery.

I don’t move, shocked I took this leap. Uneasy about actually using that money. Unsure I can handle the resulting guilt. But if I do this, if I get past my hang-ups, that land will be mine, including the surprise I’ll be showing Maggie tomorrow night.

chapter twenty-five

“This place is amazing,” Maggie says as we traipse through my large backyard, surveying the forest at our left and the rolling hills ahead. “I could sing to my heart’s content, and no one would hear me.”

“I do that all the time. I’ve perfected my modified Eminem song.”

She grabs me by the front of my jacket. “If I ever hear that song again, I will smother you in your sleep.”

God, I love her passion-fueled temper. The rise of color to her cheeks on this chillier night. “If you smother me with your tits, I’m all in.”

“Imbecile,” she mutters and walks on, tucking her hands into her coat pockets. “Tell me again where we’re going?”

“It’s a surprise. And do you really love this property?” It’s dark out, but the moon and stars are shining, my eyes gradually adjusting to the blue-black intensity blanketing the land.

Maggie slows her pace to match mine. “Why would I lie about loving this property?”