Page 206 of Devil’s Disciples

“Did you see the ocean?” I asked excitedly. “When we parked?”

He glared. “Shh,” he whispered. “Don’t let him hear you. These guys are like sharks. When they smell blood, they strike.”

It was the fourth home we’d looked at with a beach view. Although we’d made offers on the other three, none of them were accepted. It seemed that although we could afford to buy a home on our combined income, having a home with a view of the beach was something we were not going to be able to afford.

It was, however, on Cash’s list of ‘must haves’.

The first bedroom was covered in pineapple pattern wallpaper from the nineteen fifties. The second was faded pink with stains on the walls surrounding the outlets and light switch covers.

Both bathrooms needed more than updating. They needed demolished and redone completely.

In short, I loved it.

When we walked into the kitchen, the realtor was looking under the kitchen sink.

“It appears we might have a small leak,” he said. “I shut the valves off.”

“How long has it been vacant?” Cash asked.

The realtor shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s been on the market for three hundred plus days.”

Cash pushed his hands deep into his pockets. “Tell you what. They’re asking a million six-fifty. I’ll give a million one. Fifty percent in cash, and I’m prequalified for the remainder. Thirty day close, the owner pays half the closing, and I’ll resolve whatever issues come up in the inspection short of termites. Take it or leave it.”

He chuckled. “That’s sixty-six percent of ask.”

“It’s a reasonable offer. They’ve been sitting on it for a year. It’s worth a million eight in perfect shape, and it needs three hundred grand worth of work. It’ll cost a hundred grand to get it to pass inspection. That’s a solid offer.”

He shook his head. “That’d be stealing this home.”

“It’s what I can afford.”

“Your inability to afford this home doesn’t warrant the owner taking a financial loss. Make it a million four, and I think we can make it work.”

“A million one is all I can do.”

I pulled Cash to the side. “I can take some of my money out of--”

“No,” he said. “I won’t consider it. That money stays in there until you’re retirement age. No exceptions.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

Over and over, I’d heard the same numbers, and the same “I’m sorry’s.” A million one hundred thousand wasn’t going to buy us a home with a beach view. We’d either need more money or to settle for a home without a view.

The problem was that after seeing homes with a beach view, I couldn’t imagine living in one without it.

“Are you going to make the offer?” Cash asked.

The realtor shrugged. “I’ll make it, but I doubt it’ll get a counter.”

“Give it a try,” Cash said.

He agreed, everyone shook hands, and we left. On the hour-long ride home, I was disappointed. The home, although it needed tremendous work, had the best view of all the homes we’d seen. The yard was bigger than most in the neighborhood and would have looked spectacular with my personal touch.

I could see flower beds on either side of the front porch, and a lavishly landscaped area in the back yard. tending my flowers while listening to the waves crash ashore would ease my mind an any worries that could – or would – ever crop up.

I imagined cooking breakfast in the kitchen while I looked out at the ocean. Watching sunsets over the beach while we drank wine in the breakfast nook.

Cash pulled the motorcycle into the driveway and shut off the engine.