Full Disclosure (Real Estate Relations Book 1)

by DJ Jamison

  Camden looked back defiantly. “I’m not stupid. I took Miguel with me.”

  Miguel wasn’t particularly suited to handle a physical assault either. Austin easily outweighed them both.

  “He’s scrappier than you think,” Camden said, obviously reading my expression. “And I’m not some abuse victim, okay? Austin took a swing at me one time. ONE. I dodged it, shoved him on his ass, and left. I never went back, except to get my things. So, I’m not some domestic violence victim or whatever you think. I can and do stand up for myself.”

  I felt a measure of relief at that. I’d hated the thought of Camden enduring some asshole’s abuse.

  “Good,” I said. “So, Austin said he didn’t do it and you believe him?”

  “Yeah. He wasn’t even aware I’d listed a house. He never thought I’d follow through on this real estate plan. He always wanted me to be satisfied with being a kept man.” Cam’s cheeks flushed. “Not that I was a kept man, like that. I was just ... between jobs when we met. I’ve worked my whole life, even if I don’t have a college degree.”

  Hearing him talk about Austin was a relief. There was no way he still had feelings for this man. Austin had obviously made him feel inadequate.

  “Cam, I’d never question your work ethic. You work harder around here than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  He smiled up at me, and my heart missed a beat. “Thank you.”

  “But just because he didn’t know about this house doesn’t mean he didn’t break in at your apartment. It’d be a pretty good way to lure you home.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  ***

  Camden

  Reid was like a dog with a bone. He didn’t want to let this Austin thing go. It was reasonable to suspect him initially, but Reid didn’t seem to want to accept that Austin wasn’t responsible. Was that because he didn’t trust my judgment or because he wanted Austin to be guilty?

  Maybe he’s jealous.

  I shoved the ludicrous thought out of my head. Reid had a serious boyfriend, and even if he didn’t, I wasn’t even dating Austin anymore. More likely, Reid was being overprotective.

  “He showed up at our business lunch the first Monday after the break-in. Don’t you find that convenient?”

  No, I didn’t find it convenient. Considering I was trying to make a more professional impression on Reid, I found it extremely inconvenient.

  But I knew what he meant.

  “You’re assuming he cared enough to know where I’d be. Austin is an alcoholic. He’s more worried about the vodka’s whereabouts.”

  Reid scoffed. “What about when you were together? He didn’t try to keep you confined to the house?”

  Damn, how did he do that? I never told Reid how controlling Austin used to be with me. He didn’t trust me to go out with friends. He didn’t even want me to have a job. I realized now that he was isolating me to make it more difficult for me to ever have the power to leave. I should have seen it much sooner considering I’d watched my mom’s unhealthy relationship. Somehow, I’d had blinders on when it came to my own.

  I bit down on my lip, unable to prevent its trembling.

  “I’m sorry,” Reid said softly. “I pushed it too far.”

  Memories of all the ways Austin held me back filled my mind. His negative attitude about my friends. His refusal to let me drive his car. His insistence that I didn’t need to work or go to school, that he was all I needed and he’d always be there. At the time, still a bit stunned my mother had taken off with her new man to Arizona, that had sounded romantic. Someone who wouldn’t leave me. Now, it sounded creepy. Controlling.

  “He treated me like nothing more than a rent boy,” I said hoarsely. “So, maybe you’re giving me too much credit. He might have controlled my movements when we were together, but I’m free now.”

  Reid cupped my face with one hand and spoke in a soft voice. “Yes, you are free. I’m glad.”

  Hovering over me as he was, braced on one arm, it was an incredibly intimate position. Too intimate for Realtor and client, or even homeowner and handyman, as we were now. But I was too emotional to worry about it just then.

  I blinked damp lashes, trying to regain my composure. Austin had been angry when I left. He’d shown up at Miguel’s — the last time I’d stayed there and the reason I’d tried to avoid it this time around — and we had to call the police. But that was months ago now. He’d moved on.

  “I’m not giving you too much credit, though, Camden,” Reid added in that low, intimate voice. “You’re something special. Too damn good for Austin.”

  “I guess.”

  He tilted my chin up with a finger. “No, not I guess. Repeat it: I, Camden, am too good for men like Austin.”

  “Just men like Austin?”

  “No, Camden. You’re too good for most of us.”

  I bit down on a smile. “If you say so.”

  “I damn well do,” he growled. He leaned in, his lips a hairbreadth from mine. “You’re so gorgeous, Cam, but also smart and hard-working. You could have anyone.”

  “Anyone?” I whispered, my eyes locked on his.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, an alarm was blaring. It was drowned out by the pounding beats of my racing heart.

  “Yes.”

  His hand slid into my hair. His breath heated my lips, and they tingled with want. Then his weight shifted, pressing his shoulder to mine, and reason returned.

  ***

  Reid

  Camden Lewis lay under me, beautiful and vulnerable. His eyes filled with want and his breath quickened. I couldn’t possibly resist those lips a moment longer. This moment between us stretched out, fragile and precious, and I wanted to comfort him as much as I wanted to ravish him.

  I slid my fingers into his silky hair and leaned in, feeling the warmth of his body and his breath all around me.

  “Lee,” he breathed on a sigh as my lips brushed his.

  I almost pressed on. Lee and Reid sound a lot alike when someone’s voice is just a wisp of sound. But his body tensed, and I realized he wasn’t calling my name but throwing up a barrier.

  One of my own making, but still. I craved that kiss. I’d hardly gotten a brush of sensation before it was over. It was like smelling the aroma of the most delicious food and having someone yank the plate out of your hand before you’ve gotten a taste.

  I cursed. “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” He laughed, the tone bitter. “You know, I didn’t want to believe Sherrilyn, but I guess she was right.”

  Okay, he’d officially lost me. Bringing up my “boyfriend” made sense. But Sherrilyn?

  I moved back, easing into a sitting position, and Camden did the same. Lying on the floor together didn’t feel comfortable or right. The spell had been broken.

  “What are you talking about?"

  Camden’s lips thinned with his frown. “She implied you hired me more for my ass than my brains.”

  I barked out a laugh. “Are you serious?”

  Camden’s face turned red, and not in that cute embarrassed way, but in that so furious he was about to blow steam from his ears way.

  I held up my hands. “Whoa, calm down.”

  “Laugh it up, asshole.”

  He started to climb to his feet, and I grabbed his arm. Camden jerked away from me so hard he fell back onto his ass.

  “Oh, geez, babe! I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t. Just don’t, Reid.” His eyes shone with tears. “I’m tired of being some piece of ass. I’m more than that, and you have a boyfriend!”

  I nodded, keeping still when I wanted to pull him into a hug. I had a feeling he’d rather punch me at the moment.

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. And I do respect you. I laughed only because I hired you without ever seeing you. Sherrilyn’s comment was ridiculous. Surely you know that.”

  He hesitated. “But you’ve had a lot of opportunities to fire me. Starting with the first night we met.”

 
I tried to suppress my smile, but hell, it was a good memory. “I should give out a bonus for that, not fire you.” One look at his face told me that was not the right answer. “Kidding! Just kidding, Cam. You’ve done a good job and given sound advice. I’m satisfied with your service, and not because I want to kiss you. But wanting to kiss you doesn’t mean I don’t respect you."

  “Well, it means you don’t respect Lee.”

  He had me there, but it was the opening I needed.

  “Yeah. Things are complicated with Lee. I wish I could explain better, so you’d understand. I wouldn’t just cheat on Lee, but we both know there’s an expiration date looming for this relationship.”

  Camden squinted his eyes at me as if I’d confused him more than helped him. That wasn’t too surprising, but I couldn’t be any less cryptic without blowing my cover.

  “It’s not my business,” he said. “But maybe we should call it a day and get a little space to get past the awkward.”

  I grinned, shoving down the discomfort. “What awkward? There’s no awkward here.”

  This time he laughed. “Yeah, you lie about as well as I do.”

  Well, shit. I really hoped that wasn’t true.

  Chapter 13

  Camden

  The smell of smoked meat and barbecue sauce wafted through the open car window as Miguel pulled in at the annual Fields Realtor Association picnic. My stomach rumbled loudly, then twisted in shame. How could I be hungry at a time like this? I’d nearly kissed a taken man!

  “When’s the last time you ate?” Miguel asked suspiciously. “You better not be starving yourself to save money—”

  Jesus, it wasn’t as if I didn’t eat. I usually had a quick lunch with Reid while we worked on the house. I’d come to love the coziness of sitting down at the scarred dining room table while Reid rustled in the fridge for that day’s fixings. The man was a sandwich artist, always coming up with new and interesting combinations, like the roast beef with roasted red pepper spread or the turkey and smoked Gouda melt.

  Now that I looked back on it, maybe I’d gotten too comfortable in Reid’s home. I basked in the warmth of his gaze when I should have taken it as a sign of trouble.

  I felt guilty, and I took it out on Miguel.

  “I skipped lunch. Sorry, Dad.”

  “Camden ...”

  “We’re about to eat. Would you just relax!”

  I strode into the picnic and pasted on a smile. The last thing I’d wanted to do was dole out twenty bucks to go make nice with other Realtors in the blazing hot sun, but Miguel said it would make my life easier once I worked a transaction if I got along with other agents.

  That wouldn’t happen until I got a sale, which was beginning to seem more and more like an insurmountable dream.

  Miguel caught up with me at the food line. We both grabbed paper plates and dished up brisket on toast and potato salad, coleslaw and baked beans. The picnic was set in a park in the center of town, and Realtors were huddled in small groups around picnic tables, a band shell stage up front and the bouncy house where all the offspring were spending their time. I’d rather be with them.

  I started toward an empty table, Miguel trailing as he paused to talk to colleagues. I nodded and said hello again and pretended I enjoyed the challenge of real estate when, really, I wanted to scream that it was a road paved with dead dreams and someone should have warned me I’d be running on a hamster wheel but never getting anywhere.

  Gradually, one of the conversations at another table caught my attention.

  “... can’t believe she didn’t get the listing.”

  “Forget selling it, you know she’s got to be pissed about this nephew guy.”

  Why would she be pissed about Reid? He didn’t list with her, but then he didn’t even know anyone in town. It seemed odd she’d be angry with him, but maybe she’d hoped to persuade him to withdraw from working with me. Their tone suggested more beyond the missed opportunity to list a house, but another person arrived at their table and they dropped the topic.

  “Camden? Did you hear me?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Eat already! They’ll start the drawings soon.”

  “Drawings?”

  I obediently shoveled in a bite before he could snap at me.

  “Prizes. The lenders, inspectors and title companies all bribe us by contributing prizes for us. There’s even a cash drawing every year.”

  He laid two small stubs of paper containing raffle numbers. “I bought two and put your name on them. You need a win.”

  “Thanks, that’s ... you didn’t have to. You're already letting me disrupt your home by staying there.”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  “Most other people are here with family. Why isn’t Jeremy with you?”

  Miguel rolled his eyes. I guess the challenge of my question was obvious. He and his boyfriend didn’t seem to spend much time together outside of their home. And in their home, they argued often and loudly. Mostly about me, but I wasn’t sure they didn’t fight even when I wasn’t there.

  “I didn’t want him here. He’s a killjoy sometimes.”

  “And why are you with him again?”

  Miguel flicked a bean at me. “Shut up. Jeremy and I aren’t BFFs, but it works for us.” He held up his hand before I could argue. “Maybe it’s not working as well as it used to, but I’m not ready to give up. It’s tough to find a guy willing to bottom for me.”

  I clapped my hands over my ears. “TMI!”

  “Hey, Miguel. Hey, Camden. How’s it going?”

  One of the other real estate agents, Cora, sat down at the table. Dressed in jean shorts and a tank top, she was one of the most casually attired agents there. Although the picnic meant that plenty of agents exchanged their suits for business casual, Cora looked like she was out for a fun day at the lake. But then, she was known for being a “country girl.” With ten years in the industry under her belt, she’d built a reputation for being the fun-loving, down-to-earth agent.

  “Hey girl,” Miguel said. “How’s business?”

  “It’s been busy this year. Seems like the 150k range is picking up.”

  “It really has,” Mig agreed. “That new school on the east side has really spurred development.”

  I tuned them out as I worked through my plate of food. I was starving, and at least if I had to sweat my way through a work function, I could enjoy the great food.

  “How’s it going with Ivy Lane?” Cora asked, probably to draw me into the conversation. She was one of the nicer people I’d met since starting real estate.

  I swallowed my bite and took a swig of my beer. “Good. We’ve been clearing it out and working on some improvements to update it.”

  “We?”

  “The owner hired me to help with projects,” I answered, feeling a flush work its way up my neck. Admitting I worked for scraps wasn’t the best way to present myself as successful.

  Cora nodded and laughed. “Oh, I’ve been there. I once crawled under a manufactured home and installed the struts myself so it would be approved for a loan.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Wow, really?”

  Maybe it was sexist, but it was tough for me to picture Cora clambering under a mobile home. I wasn’t sure even I would be up for such dirty work.

  Miguel snorted. “I painted a whole goddamn house once because the seller couldn’t afford to hire a painter and the FHA loan flagged the flaking paint.”

  Huh. I never knew Mig did that. He was such a polished agent, always in a sharp suit and tie. I knew he could get down and dirty, of course. We’d been friends when he worked part time on his uncle’s construction crew, but I didn’t think he’d do it anymore.

  “You do whatever it takes to get the job done,” Cora said. “Sellers and buyers will impede that, but you just keep negotiating to get the deal together. If you have to play handyman, you won’t be the first.”

  I liked Cora. That was more advice than my own broker gave me. Jody’s
idea of a pep talk was to tell me to go read the bylaws and not fuck it up.

  “So, you haven’t heard from Sherrilyn then?”

  Cora said her name differently than everyone else in town. Sherri Lyn, as opposed to Sherrilyn run together.

  “About what?”

  “The Ivy Lane house.”

  “Oh, yeah. She asked to tour it and was kind of rude about it.” I shrugged. “I heard some other agents saying she was pissed about the nephew. I didn’t get that.”

  “Uh, probably because he got the house and she didn't.”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, shit,” Mig said. “I can't believe I didn’t put that together.”

  “Put what together?”

  “Sherrilyn. Sherri Lynn. Sherri Winters?”

  WTF? It was like Miguel was speaking in tongues. “Can someone explain for the airhead over here?”

  “Sherrilyn is the widow of Aaron Winters. The son of—”

  “Robert Winters. I get it. So, she was his daughter-in-law?”

  “Sure was,” Cora said. “From what I heard she expected to inherit the estate but Mr. Winters must have changed the will, if she was ever really in it.”

  “Wow, no wonder she at least wanted the listing,” Miguel said. “It was her last shot to get any money out of the deal. I heard about her husband.”

  “Her husband?”

  “He’s facing embezzlement charges. I bet she could really use a little financial boost right about now.”

  “Wow,” I said, thinking over everything I’d just learned. “That’s so weird. Reid hasn’t said anything about her. He met her, but he’s never once told me she was connected to his family.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t know. She left and remarried. Most people have forgotten she was with Aaron. He died such a long time ago.”

  “I feel kind of bad now,” I said.

  Miguel blew a raspberry. “Don’t. Up until now, Sherrilyn has been sitting pretty. Her husband is loaded. Guess we know why now. She left Aaron and her life as his widow behind a long time ago.”