Love Unleashed

by Natalie Brunwick

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  From the Author

  Love Unleashed

  by Natalie Brunwick

  © 2018 Natalie Brunwick

  This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any way, including information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

  Keep up to date on Natalie’s new and upcoming releases by joining her newsletter.

  Chapter One

  I showed the Baker house on a Wednesday, which is possibly one of the worst days of the week. Still, there I was, paperwork in one hand while gesturing at the decorative framework with the other.

  If it were any other house, I would’ve been halfway through the tour by now. But not this house. Not the old Baker place. No, this place demanded respect and time, enough time to admire all of the hand-carved spindles in the staircase leading upstairs along with the ornamental trim above each of the doorways.

  The old Baker house sat right in the middle of Cornwall Drive, its wooden floors matching those it originally came with. I adored those floor along with the beautiful archways in the foyer that someone else had painstakingly carved by hand.

  Others had tried to sell the house and failed, but not me. I never lost a sale, and I wasn’t planning to start now.

  “As you can see, the new laminate flooring in the kitchen compliments the wall paneling perfectly, and with the original wooden floors in the lower level of the house, you won’t have to worry about the kids tracking in mud on their shoes and getting it into the carpeting.” I wrinkled my nose at that. Have you ever tried to get dirt out of the carpeting? Like, really get it out of every single fiber? How about pine needles or crumpled leaves that disintegrated to the touch? It isn’t fun.

  The couple following behind me made a sound of approval and smiled when I turned to face them. They were the third family I’d taken through the house this week. They were also the most promising. With one of the best Elementary schools in the district just a few blocks away, the Baker house was the perfect place for the Parks to raise their son. Their little boy just started school not too long ago, and with the neighborhood being as small as it was, it would’ve been a great place for him to grow up.

  The Parks seemed to agree, hanging on my every word as they focused on their son’s future. So, as we walked through the house, I kept that in mind, making a point to mention their son whenever I could along with any hobbies he might have.

  It was that attention to detail that kept me above my colleagues and the reason why I never lost a sale. Once I learned the reason behind someone’s upcoming move, I latched on, using whatever information I could to my advantage. It’s just good business, really, and a skill set I’d expected my co-workers to share.

  Halfway through the lower level of the house, Mr. Park hesitated in front of the kitchen window, his brows furrowing above his eyes. “Does the dog come with the house?” he asked, not looking at me.

  What? “There isn’t a dog,” I said, my heart skipping a beat the moment I glanced out the back window. Sure enough, buried halfway inside a hole, a wet dog continued to throw pawfuls of dirt onto the ground behind him. He must’ve jumped over the fence when I wasn’t looking because I didn’t see him earlier.

  “Excuse me for one minute, will you?” I quickly excused myself and hurried into the backyard. In an instant, all of my excitement for the sale of the Baker house faded away. There was no way I’d be able to hide a huge hole in the middle of the yard, not even after it was filled.

  “Shoo. Get out of here,” I said, waving my hands at the dog as though it might help. One of my red heels sunk into the ground as soon as I stepped off the back patio, pulling my attention away from the dog long enough for me to dig the heel out of the soft soil.

  The dog’s once-golden coat had darkened from the mud, a lot of his fur held together in large clumps. The dirt covering his floppy ears caused a small chuckle to pass through my lips. He was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever seen. If not for his current location, I probably wouldn’t have minded his company at all. That said, as he drew long furrows in the ground, my heart began to sink. For the first time in my life, I was going to lose a sale. Repairing the damage, well… that was something else altogether.

  “Don’t you have your own yard to destroy?” I said in a huff, taking a handful of steps toward the dog until a set of deep brown eyes looked back at me. “Go home.” Glancing around his neck and realizing he had no collar, I was starting to wonder if he had a home to go back to at all.

  Of course, there was a small chance he didn’t wear it all the time, or maybe he managed to pull it off somehow. Regardless of the reason, I wasn’t about to get between a mystery dog and whatever it was he thought he was doing. That’s what animal control was for. I was only trying to show off a house.

  Digging my cell phone out of my pocket, I pulled up the number for animal control and counted each of the rings as the dog tossed more dirt behind him. He’d changed his position, throwing dirt in my direction as well.

  I didn’t hate dogs. Far from it, actually. That said, I wasn’t particularly fond of the one digging up the Bakers’ yard.

  “Yes, I’d like to report a dog in my backyard,” I spoke into the receiver, sighing at whoever managed to pick up the phone. “No, it isn’t mine. Do you really think I’d call you if it was mine?” The nerve of some people, I fumed, gritting my teeth as the man rattled off something else on the other side of the line. “Yes, I’ll wait. Just… make it quick, otherwise there won’t be anything left.” I wasn’t exaggerating, either. As I paced beside the patio leading to the back door, the hole continued to grow. If the mutt had been a normal dog, he would’ve dug down, not out. “Figures. I get the one dog that likes to dig up the entire yard.”

  After rambling off the address to the man on the other side of the line, I hung up, took a handful of calming breaths (which did not help), then rejoined the Parks inside the kitchen.

  In the midst of pulling on his jacket, Mr. Park paused and offered me a small smile. “It looks like you have your hands full. Maybe we should come back later.”

  Which basically meant the house wasn’t for them. I’d heard it all, and it always meant the same thing. Granted, there was actually a reason behind it this time, so I honestly couldn’t fault them for it. I would’ve run away from the house as well if I could, but someone had to wait for animal control. Seeing as I was the only one left, well, you know.

  Taking an uneasy breath, I resisted the urge to pace the length of the kitchen. Every time I looked out the back window, the dog had moved and the hole grew even bigger. At the rate he was going, the hole would reach the house in no time. I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to explain everything to my boss after that. Could you imagine? An entire house sinking inside a black hole. As if I needed another thing to worry about today.

  “Crap.” Somehow, in my hurry to reassure the Parks, I’d managed to track mud into the house and all over the new laminate flooring. At least it isn’t carpeting. If it was, I probably would’ve been better off burning the entire place down.

  Okay, maybe I was overreacting just a bit, but could you blam
e me? The amount of work I had to do, not to mention the time needed for the grass to regrow, was unacceptable.

  “If that mutt has an owner,” I seethed, taking off my heels so I could rinse them off in the sink before heading back toward the foyer again. If he had an owner, they’d both get an earful, possibly community service as well. I was having such a good week too.

  As for the dog, he wasn’t like any other retriever I’d ever seen, but if I were to wash away all the mud, he’d look like a Golden for sure. Such strange behavior, I thought, glancing at the time yet again when animal control didn’t pull into the driveway.

  Screw it. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing, so while listening for animal control to roll up, I went into the backyard and opened up the gate so the dog could leave whenever he wanted to. I probably should’ve done it earlier but the dog was a lot closer to the fence back then, and I honestly wasn’t ready to find out what kind of dog he truly was. Under all that mud, it was hard to tell.

  I had no idea what was so important inside that hole, but whatever it was, the dog refused to move. I’d even gone back inside to grab a piece of cheese from the tray. The dog didn’t budge.

  “Come on. Please,” I tried, crouching close to the ground with the cheese held out in front of me. What is wrong with this dog? Accessing the damage, I couldn’t tell if the nerves knotting my stomach were because of the lost sale or how much it was going to cost to fix the yard. I was supposed to show the house two more times this afternoon, but now I’d have to postpone them until next week at the very least.

  “Duke?” a woman’s voice caught my ear, the top of her head with all of its blonde curls visible from where I was crouching. It wasn’t until she said the name again when I realized she wasn’t looking for a person. She was looking for a dog

  “You,” I said, looking at the dog as I slowly got to my feet. “He’s over here,” I called out over the property line when I thought the woman might walk by the house completely.

  “Oh, thank god,” the woman said, hurrying inside the yard once I let her in. Her blonde hair was a frazzled mess and clearly pulled up in a hurry once she realized the dog was gone. Her pale blouse and blue jeans were wet, probably because Duke or whatever-his-name-was had brushed against her before making his way into the Bakers’ yard.

  “Oh Duke, what have you done?” the blonde asked with a long exhale of breath, her shoulders slumping as she took in the amount of damage he’d caused in such a short amount of time. I half-expected her to grab her dog and leave. Instead, she turned to me and said, “I am so sorry about this. I was hosing him off and he pulled out of his collar.” She removed what was left of the collar from her back pocket so I could look at it. “He knocked me over before I could see where he’d gone. He must’ve run through each of the yards because I couldn’t find a water trail anywhere and… I’m so very, very sorry.”

  Blood boiled under my skin, forcing every single one of the hairs on my arms to stand on end. If I were a dog, my fur would’ve bristled as well. Thankfully, the growl I felt bubbling up my chest never made it past my lips. The venom of my words, however, did.

  “Animal control will be here soon,” I bit out, my cheeks burning hot as soon as I met the other woman’s gaze.

  A pair of large blue eyes looked back at me, full of disbelief and fear, a fear I regret putting there as soon as the words left my lips.

  My gut twisted as I looked from the owner to her dog and his still-growing path of destruction. “You might want to stop him before he reaches the waterline,” I said in the firmest voice I could.

  The woman’s face fell, then as though she’d been pushed, she hurried over to Duke and threw a new collar on him, tugging on it once she did. “You’ve really done it this time.” She paused beside me, bent in the middle as she kept a strong hold on Duke’s collar. “I’m really, really sorry.”

  “Just see that it never happens again,” I managed, clenching my jaw as Duke tried to pull away from his owner, almost taking the woman down with him.

  “It won’t. I promise. If you need me to cover the damages—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I cut in before she could finish. My words had already done enough. I really shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. I may have been pissed but it was easy to see Duke wasn’t the easiest dog to work with. “I have a guy who can fix this,” I told her, gesturing at the yard. “Just get him home, wash him up, and get a better collar.” I didn’t mean to judge the other woman, but this was my job we were talking about. And now, I’d have to send animal control away and pay them as well.

  I was starting to wonder if the Baker house was more trouble than it was worth. Perhaps there was a reason why it’d been on the market for so long. Aside from Duke, I mean. Some houses can’t be sold. My boss had one ages ago he tried to sell for three years before giving up.

  Maybe the Baker house would be the same for me. But the Parks seemed so interested. More than that, I pretty much had it in the bag until that dog showed up. Considering the damage he’d done and everything the Parks had seen, my chances of selling the house to them was rather slim. They’d never want the house now.

  With the yard a muddy mess and my other appointments canceled, I apologized to animal control, then called it a day.

  I’d call Felix about the yard tomorrow morning, but if I didn’t get out of the Baker house soon, I’d probably lose my mind.

  I locked up, got in my car, and left.

  Tomorrow will be a better day.

  It had to be.

  Chapter Two

  “How are things going with the Baker house?” My co-worker Jerry always knew what buttons to push. “Didn’t you say you’d have it done by the end of the week? I know you’re ambitious, but that’s groundbreaking, even for you.”

  Nearly a week had passed since my last tour of the Baker house, and finally, after what felt like ages, I’d be able to show it off again. As for Jerry, the less I played into his little mind game, the better. To be honest, we didn’t have the best history. We’d gone head-to-head more times than I could count. No doubt he was silently laughing about my recent misfortune with the Baker house.

  It wasn’t about the dog, either. Not all of it, anyway. On the day the landscapers dropped by to fill in the hole, the photos along the stairwell crashed to the floor. And when I was about to show the master bedroom to a family friend, the Grandfather clock chimed in the living room.

  The clock hasn’t run in years and no one can figure out why.

  Maybe Jerry was right. Maybe I really was losing my touch.

  “Maybe it’s haunted,” Jerry said, practically reading my thoughts. “You do realize Mr. Baker died in his sleep, right?”

  “Jerry,” I said in the firmest voice I could, fixing my coffee before heading back to my desk.

  Jerry hurried close behind me, the soles of his shoes shuffling against the carpeting. “Who knows. That might be why you’re having so much trouble with it.” He shrugged and left it at that, turning away but not before I caught the smug grin on his face.

  Whatever. The place wasn’t haunted. It was just an old house reacting like an old house should. The floors creaked whenever someone walked on them and the walls complained every time the wind blew. That didn’t mean the Baker house was haunted. Considering how old it was, the sounds were completely normal.

  Yeah, I didn’t believe it either, but I wasn’t about to give Jerry any credit for my tiny freak-out. I call it a freak-out but it was honestly an assessment of everything that had happened ever since I listed the house.

  The grass we seeded last week had already begun to grow, and so long as the nails were seated properly in the walls, there wouldn’t be an issue with the photos. The clock going off was still a mystery. Even the man who dropped by to look at it said it wasn’t in working order.

  There was absolutely nothing wrong with the Baker house, and just like the week before, I was determined to make a sale, devil dog or not.

/>   “Does it get drafty at night?” an older gentleman asked once we stepped into the master bedroom.

  Offering him a kind smile, I ran my hand over one of the windowsills that overlooked the backyard. “The windows and baseboards are brand new,” I said, facing him a moment later. “Keeping the place warm in the colder months shouldn’t be an issue. Will anyone be joining you?”

  Unlike the Parks who were focused on their son, Mr. Harris hadn’t said much at all. I had no idea what he was looking for in a home or why he wanted to move in the first place.

  “My wife,” Mr. Harris said, his kind eyes relieving some of the tension in my back. I’d made the poor miscalculation of scrubbing the floors after walking dirt all over the kitchen the other day, but it couldn’t be helped. I wasn’t about to show the house with scuffs everywhere. Everything had to be perfect.

  Mr. Harris went on when I didn’t say anything, looking out one of the windows as he did. “She can’t stand the cold. She even wears sweaters in the summertime.”

  “My mother’s like that,” I said with a smile. “It can be ninety degrees outside and she still insists on wearing one.”

  “That’s the same with my Lily. I thought it was odd at first but you get used to it after a while. She’d love this place, though. Where we’re at right now is terribly cramped, so having this much space, well… it would be a big change for sure.” The way he spoke didn’t give me much confidence.

  As much as I wanted to sell the Baker house, I took pride in matching the right person with the right home. Mr. Harris’ wife may have enjoyed the old Baker place, but I honestly wasn’t so sure about the man currently looking out one of the bedroom windows. He had a faraway look to him, and when he mentioned the change, his entire body tensed up.

  “And what do you look for in a home?” I hedged, hoping I wasn’t overstepping by asking about his interests as well.