“So you’re not crying in the diner over the sex, then.”
Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not crying. I’m here to celebrate.”
“Your eyes look awful wet for someone who’s not crying.”
“Everyone’s eyes are wet,” said Lucy, brushing at the corner of one eyelid. “And I promise you, that sex was not cry-worthy. It was…perfect.” She cringed a little, having to use that word. “I’m sorry. I’m a broken record, and it’s going to go to your head.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a woman drove me to insanity telling me about my own perfection,” joked Aiden. But then his face slipped back into seriousness. “Really, are you okay? Is something on your mind?”
Lucy sighed. “Just my banana shake. And grilled cheese.”
“Ah. Not what you’re used to in the city?”
“No. They didn’t have anything in the city like this. When I was younger—”
At that moment, Molly came back to the table and slid their plates in front of them. “Everything look okay?” she asked, as cheerily as she always had when Lucy was growing up.
She stared down at the plate in front of her. It was exactly the same. Same buttered, toasted bread. Same scattering of fries. Same pickle spear on the left side of the plate. How many times had she tasted this meal while she’d sat here with her living, breathing parents? It had been so casual as if nothing would ever happen to them. She blinked back another wave of tears. Crying in the diner in front of Molly and Aiden was not going to happen.
Lucy put on a big smile. “It looks wonderful, Molly.”
“You let me know if you need anything else, all right?” Molly put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder for a brief pat. “It’s good to have you back in town, Lucy. We’ve missed you. And we miss seeing your parents around here. They were wonderful people.”
“They really were,” Lucy agreed. Molly gave her shoulder another little pat and moved on to the next booth.
It was nice to be around other people who had known them and could talk about them. But that would get harder when she sold the house. And that little girl she’d imagined, sitting proudly in a booster seat at Harold’s, might never have the chance to come here. Or if they did visit, it wouldn’t be like this—as familiar as her own house. To her child, it would just be a place they visited when their schedules would allow.
And if Aiden didn’t want any contact, what reason would she have to visit?
“We came here a lot when I was younger. My parents and I. This is what I always used to order.”
He looked at her with all the compassion in the world.
“How’s the house cleaning going? Do you need a few extra sets of hands?”
Lucy paused with half of her grilled cheese sandwich at her lips. It was like he’d been reading her mind. “It’s going fine,” she said. “I don’t know if having more people would help or hurt. I pretty much have to go through everything by myself. There just isn’t anyone else who knows the family business.” She cracked a smile. “The business of being haphazard artists, I mean.”
Aiden looked down at his burger with a frown. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to bring this up, but I don’t know if I’ve ever given you my condolences, Lucy. I’m really sorry about your parents.” He looked even more uncomfortable. “I…feel awful about it, actually.”
Lucy nodded graciously. What else was she supposed to do? Everyone in her life told her how sorry they were. “I appreciate it. But there was nothing you could have done. You don’t have to feel bad.”
He shook his head. “I feel bad about the accident, but what I mean is…” He met Lucy’s eyes. “I didn’t go to the funeral. It was during planting season, and I decided to stay at the ranch to get things done. I should have gone. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Luce.”
“It was all a blur,” she told him, and it was the truth. Lucy had shaken so many hands that day that the pressure of a thousand firm handshakes was her most indelible memory from the dual funeral. She hadn’t been able to keep track of everyone who came and went.
“You sure you’re all right with all that cleaning?”
“I’ve got the time.” Lucy took a bite of grilled cheese sandwich. It was a perfect replica of all the sandwiches she’d eaten here as a child. Not a thing had changed—not the bread, and not the cheese. The taste felt like a warm blanket after a cold rain. “But it’s going the only way it can go. One room at a time.”
“I have to admit,” Aiden said, swirling a fry in a pool of ketchup. “I’m sad to see those ruffles go.”
That earned him a laugh. “You’re a fan of the ruffles?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “It was…pretty quirky in there, with all those ruffles. But it seemed comfortable to me. Like an old afghan.”
Lucy snorted again. She was on a roll with that today. “I’ve got two boxes of old afghans if you need one.”
“I’m all set on old afghans.” Aiden laughed. “Two boxes?”
“You know what’s funny about that? I always thought we only had one. Turns out, it was six identical afghans. My mom must have rotated them out with the seasons.”
“Why would she have done that, if they were identical?”
It was Lucy’s turn to laugh. “Who knows? Maybe they had some secret afghan-scent-emitting properties that worked seasonally.”
“Sounds about right,” said Aiden. “How close are you to being done, do you think?”
“A couple of weeks at minimum. Why?”
“I’ve been thinking.” He cut his burger in half with a steak knife and picked up one half to eat. “If you need help selling the house, my mom got into real estate last year.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you think that’s the best idea?”
He gave her a look. “Why would it be a bad idea?”
Lucy considered this. “I thought you might want to…avoid overlap while I’m in town. Have you even thought about how you’re going to explain this to your family?” She was worried for him, which was insane. Lucy didn’t even have to worry about convincing her own parents that her plan was solid.
“Well,” Aiden said, after he’d demolished half the burger in three bites. “I’ll do it like I do anything else. One step at a time.” He dug into the fries. “Besides, my mom’s one of the best realtors in the area. The fact that she’s my mom shouldn’t stop you from getting the most you can out of that house.”
It caused a pang of something like regret to hear those words. Lucy didn’t feel like her parents’ home was something transactional, to be packaged up and sold to the highest bidder, but that’s what it was, after all. Aiden was right. She should get everything she could out of the property.
But it was her childhood home. It was the place she spent the most time with her parents, and the little building was stuffed to the brim with memories of them. Could she really put a sign out front and invite random strangers in to judge it before they’d ever lived there? Could she sign the paperwork that would mean she would never, ever, walk up the front porch again and unlock the front door and step inside and breathe the scent of home?
“If you want to get in contact, I’ll give you her number.” Aiden’s voice broke into her thoughts, bringing them to a grinding halt. “Or you could use someone else,” he said, once he glanced up from his plate to Lucy’s face.
“No, no,” she said hastily. “I’m sure your mom will do a great job. I’m just—I’m not there yet. What with the cleaning, and the sorting—”
“And the washing of sheets.”
“Yes, of course, the sheets—” Lucy realized what Aiden had done long after he said the words. “Oh, you think you’re going to be back a second time?”
He looked at her across the table, leaned back in the booth, hands behind his head, and Lucy felt her stomach fall to earth. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”
Ten
There was no way she was going to let Linda sell the house.
There was
also no way she could turn down the offer.
After lunch at the diner, Aiden had gone back to the ranch and Lucy had driven home, turning the idea of having Aiden’s mother sell her parents’ house over and over in her mind. She couldn’t. Could she? She would find out what the two of them were up to, and Lucy didn’t relish having to face Linda Harper’s reaction to their agreement.
Back at the house, she shut the door behind her and went up to her old bedroom. Her feet carried her there out of habit as much as anything else, but the moment she entered the room, she knew it was different. It felt huge, in fact, without Aiden standing in it, taking up all the available space. It felt huge and empty.
She wanted him back in the room with her. Somehow, the presence of him had made the room feel like the right size. Her life had felt like the right size for once—and bright and passionate, too.
But he’d held up his end of the bargain for the day and taken her out to lunch.
Lucy took her tablet from the desk. The Harpers were a tight-knit family, so it was possible that Aiden had overstated his mother’s real estate prowess.
A simple search told her that he had not.
Linda Harper’s face was the first thing to pop up in the search window, followed by a long list of links describing the deals she’d made and the properties she’d sold. There were at least ten photos of her with smiling couples holding up the keys to their new homes. In every single one, Lucy recognized Aiden in her—they had the same intense blue eyes. She’d never once wondered where he’d gotten them from, but now it was obvious.
So she was good at selling houses. Lucy had known about Linda Harper, peripherally, most of high school. She had always been the mother who had organized the bake sale and sold the most cookies. She was the one who redesigned the dance team’s uniforms and held a fundraiser to pay for them. In the summers, she organized the garden club that Lucy’s mother had been part of. For one summer. It turned out she didn’t like to dig up the soil.
Lucy bit her lip and scrolled through more of the online entries about Linda. What was this feeling? Was it…annoyance? Jealousy at her success? Linda, after all, hadn’t had to move away from home in order to build a career for herself, and Lucy had. Linda might have her own opinions about women who flew away and left everything behind even though the community had prepared them to succeed.
She swallowed hard and turned off the tablet.
The truth was, she wanted Linda’s judgment.
There. She had thought it right out loud. She wanted Linda to approve of her, and she was not a woman who held back on her own judgments. She had overhauled the entire bake sale process because—before she got her hands on it—it wasted too much food and didn’t make enough money. Linda had told the dance team coach that the original uniforms were terrible, and she’d been right.
It wasn’t exactly Linda’s judgment that she feared. It was the possibility that it would also be accurate. If she came down on the side of disapproval, Lucy wasn’t sure she could resist shrinking back down inside of herself like the high schooler she had been behind closed doors.
Lucy shoved that thought away and went down to the den.
The walls there were lined with bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books. Lucy settled into a pattern—donate, keep. Donate, keep. She decided she’d cull half of them, take the donations to the public library, then sort again. She could keep a quarter of her father’s books. But not many more.
As she sorted, she thought.
There was only one thing to do in this situation. She needed to get out ahead of the news of their contract. Luckily, there was still plenty of time to reach out to Linda and establish a relationship with her before anything was obvious. Blindsiding Linda Harper was both difficult to do and a very stupid idea. Better to have her approval first, then follow up with the news.
If, Lucy thought, it was going to be obvious. There was always the chance that they’d have to try again next month. Her cheeks heated at the thought of Aiden back in her bedroom a second time.
In the end, it was as simple as sending an email to Linda’s real estate agency. She replied within an hour: they’d meet at noon the next day.
* * *
She was going to see right through the cookies.
Lucy hovered in the kitchen, watching through the window of the oven as the chocolate chip cookies baked. She’d read online that you should always have something baking when you showed your house to a potential buyer. Linda was not, in fact, a potential buyer, but that was only occurring to Lucy in this moment.
It was too over the top, and she’d see right through it.
The timer on the oven jangled, and Lucy took the cookies out of the oven to cool. The moment they were on the cooling rack, she threw open the window above the oven. Maybe some of the cookie smell would dissipate by the time—
The doorbell rang.
So much for that idea.
Lucy washed her hands in the sink and patted them dry on a towel hanging from the stove handle, then went to open the door for Linda Harper.
Aiden’s mother stepped inside the front door without preamble and stuck out her hand for Lucy to shake. “I’m Linda Harper,” she said briskly. “I’m not sure we’ve ever been formally introduced, but better late than never. I was so sorry to hear about your parents.”
She really cut to the chase. “Thank you,” Lucy said in a tone that she hoped conveyed how gracious and not awkward she could be.
“How long are you in town?” Linda asked, studying her. In person, her eyes were every bit as captivating as Aiden’s. Lucy had never felt more naked in her life. Well, since yesterday, at least.
“I’ve taken a sabbatical,” Lucy said. “I’ll be here long enough to sell the house and collect some data. From Aiden’s ranch, actually,” she added, and regretted it immediately. What was she doing? The whole point of this meeting was to present herself as an independent, intelligent woman, and here she was, babbling about the agreement as if she wanted to spill the beans to Linda. “Your son, Aiden,” she said, and resisted the urge to slap her own forehead.
The blushing wasn’t helping, either.
“That’s right,” Linda said, as if she already knew everything. “Your work has been in pesticide development, hasn’t it? I know many farmers in the area could benefit from knowing you.”
“That’s exactly right,” Lucy said. “In fact, I’m working with Aiden to test out my latest product before it goes to market.”
“How wonderful for you both,” Linda said, giving her an encouraging smile.
“Yes,” Lucy said, standing tall. “It is wonderful. Our arrangement is very…mutually beneficial.”
“And I’m sure you’ll want the same from our relationship. Please, show me around the house.”
Lucy gave her the tour. Three bedrooms upstairs, and a living room, dining room, kitchen, and den downstairs. The finished basement held the laundry room and rec room of sorts, where Lucy had spent many afternoons as a kid. She’d cleaned up the detritus of the home lab set a long time ago, thank god.
Back at the front door, Linda stepped out onto the porch and glanced over the wood railings, which needed a new coat of white paint.
Then she turned to Lucy.
“I won’t sugarcoat things. If you want this house to sell, you’re going to need to overhaul most of it. The decor is painfully dated, along with all the appliances.”
Lucy gave her a satisfied smile. “I’d have been a little worried if you hadn’t come to that conclusion, too. The decor is going to be an easy fix—I’m already working on it—and I’ve ordered new appliances. Besides…” She shrugged as if it was just occurring to her now. “The bones on this place have always been good. And you couldn’t ask for a better location. The school district here is still top-notch, from what I’ve heard.”
Linda lifted her chin, a little grin playing at the corners of her mouth. “It’ll still take some elbow grease and investment to get what you deserve out o
f the property.” She gave her another look up and down, and Lucy was glad she’d put on her best skinny jeans and her favorite dark green tunic shirt. “Then again,” said Linda, “you probably know exactly what needs to be done in a makeover situation.”
Lucy didn’t know what to say to that. Was Linda talking about…high school? Maybe she’d seen through the front windows to those SMART-ASS shorts.
“No shame in knowing what’s good for you,” Linda continued, taking a business card out of her purse. “Now, you let me know if you need help with anything. Anything at all.”
Linda’s blue eyes seemed to see right under her skin, and Lucy was struck by the sensation that she already knew everything. She held her gaze as long as possible, then looked away.
“I’ll be in touch,” she told Linda Harper, and the two women shook hands.
“Glad to hear it. I’ll be off. Best of luck with the renovations.”
Lucy watched her go, waiting for the heat to leave her face.
It took a long time.
* * *
Aiden was hovering over the Brew-Magic system in the brewery, giving himself a rare few minutes to lose himself in another batch of craft beer, when he sensed that his mother was nearby.
He’d been wondering how long it would take her to stop by and give him the third degree about what was going on with Lucy. He went to the window of the brewery and there she was, walking up the flagstone path. It looked like Andrea was going to lose their little bet.
His mother raised a hand to her forehead and blocked the sun from her eyes. The brewery was in the auxiliary barn as if putting it some distance from the crops could keep it safe. Even if the crops failed, there was a little moat of green grass around the brewery to keep it separate. It was symbolic more than anything, but Aiden didn’t care. The brewery was his. Whether it succeeded or failed wouldn’t touch the ranch—it would only injure him. Aside from that, it gave him somewhere to go while they crop dusted. Jonas was due to go up any minute with Lucy’s new pesticide.
The Rancher’s Baby Bargain Page 7
