Page 11 of Hearts on the Mend

“Sometime today, son. She doesn’t live in a barn.”

“Might as well. The furnace can barely keep up,” I mutter.

Finally, he stretches out his hand toward me. “Nolan, and this is my father, Richie Murphy. Nice to meet you.”

Meet him? The man’s been inside me.

I slip my hand into his, a spark igniting at the base of my spine as his calloused fingers grasp mine. “Cassie Whitman. Hi.”

“Old houses have shit for installation,” he says before stepping inside. He shuts the door behind him, and then, for the briefest glance, meets my gaze. Dark-brown eyes flecked with gold and green.

I wish he never did.

The way he studies me, from head to toe, taking inventory. It feels so clinical rather than him remembering when he saw me last. Very naked, very loud, very much his.

That night was going to be my secret. I was happy to have checked that off my list of accomplishments and die an old, happy lady remembering when. And now he’s here, in my house, to help. My aunt might be grumpy, but she has a big heart, and she wants what’s best for Ruby and me.

“That’s a bad word,” my daughter calls out from upstairs.

I whirl around and press my fingers to my lips. Ruby giggles, dangling Noodles through the rickety railings of the second story of the house. I don’t trust them not to snap if she leans forward.

The house feels like a death trap.

“It is, young lady. You’re right,” Mr. Murphy says with a big smile. He gestures toward his son. “Think he should apologize.”

Nolan adjusts his cap, his face ashen at the sight of my daughter.

The knot in my stomach tightens. I’m still in the middle of a messy divorce, and things are too fresh with Matt. But Nolan’s reaction is one big reason why I’m not ready to date. If I ever decide to date again at all. I have baggage now that most men don’t want to deal with. And just to clear that up, I, in no way, think of Ruby as baggage. She’s the best thing in my life. But dating with a young daughter at home?

I’d rather have an emergency laparotomy.

“Sorry,” he says gruffly.

Ruby swings Noodles back and forth as she bounces down the carpeted stairs wearing a sparkly rainbow tutu over her overalls, a Superman cape tied around her neck. “I forgive you. I’ve heard my mom say bad words too. Like sh⁠—”

“That’s enough, Ruby,” I say with a stretched smile. “Let’s show the Murphys around. Aunt Ruth thinks they can help.”

“With the ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” Mr. Murphy pretends to shiver, his eyes big. “Hope not. I’ll let Nolan deal with those.”

Ruby eyes him, still very much undecided if he’s someone she can be comfortable with.

I can feel Nolan’s eyes burn through my back as I lead them into the crowded living room with the faded recliner. He’s just so damn big he fills up so much space. So much of my space.

I slip my phone out of my pocket and FaceTime my aunt. The call connects, and we’re all met with warm sunshine and the sound of waves crashing against a bright white beach.

“Cassie? I can’t see you. Wait, where the hell am I?”

“That’s a bad word,” Ruby pipes up, jumping onto the recliner to peek over my shoulder.

“Bring the camera down a bit,” I suggest. “You’ll need to find the arrows in the corner, then flip the camera.”

“Flip the camera?” Ruth squeaks. “I can’t…”

“In the corner,” I repeat. ‘You’ll see two arrows in a circle. Click that and⁠—”

Her frown is suddenly on screen, highlighted with smudged red lipstick. Like fire-engine red.