Page 102 of Holding On To Good

Settling for what was, instead of going after what could be.

He’d been waiting for this moment, for this opportunity for sixteen years. He could wait a little while longer.

Long enough for her to have the time, the space she needed to get past her doubts. Over her fears.

Long enough for her to choose him.

“How about I show you the kitchen?” she asked in the professional tone she brought out when dealing with a particularly difficult customer.

Back to the business at hand.

He gestured toward the stairs. “Lead the way.”

She didn’t have to be told twice. She bolted. As he’d noted last night, she could move fast when she put her mind to it.

Which seemed to consist of times when she was putting her mind to getting as far away from him as possible.

Yeah, his ego was taking a fucking beating today.

He picked up his clipboard. Took his time as he descended the stairs. He’d let her go. Would finish this tour and discuss ways to make flipping this house worth their time and investment. He’d be patient. Because he had no other choice.

He’d wait. Because she was worth it.

But he wouldn’t pretend nothing had happened between them. He wouldn’t go back to how they were. Not ever again.

Not even for her.

Chapter Eighteen

The last thing Verity expected when she rode her bike down Elmwood Lane bright and early Friday morning was to see a beautiful blonde in a pencil skirt and blouse sporting a serious case of sex-hair stumbling from the front door of Miles’s house.

Slowing, Verity pulled onto the sidewalk as the blonde gently shut the door, then tiptoed across the porch on bare feet, a pair of red heels in her hand. Blondie shot a quick, guilty look over her shoulder at the house, then did a combination walk/run scurry thing down the sidewalk, her head lowered, shoulders hunched.

Wow. A real live walk of shame.

And to think, Verity hadn’t even wanted to come here. Had been putting this off for almost a week. But now that she had the opportunity—and the ammunition—to mercilessly torment Miles about a woman who looked like she was trying to sneak out of his house before he noticed?

She grinned, and yes, maybe she gave a tiny cackle of triumph. What could she say?

Life was good.

And when it was good, a girl needed to celebrate it.

Verity dismounted and walked her bike up the path but the blonde was so focused on her escape, she didn’t even notice.

“Good morning,” Verity called when she was a few feet away, keeping her voice chipper and hopefully completely nonthreatening.

If there ever was a woman who looked ready to jump out of her skin, it was blondie.

The blonde slammed to a stop like she’d run face first into an invisible brick wall. Head still lowered, she squeezed her eyes shut and muttered something under her breath Verity couldn’t quite make out.

Oh, yeah, this woman was definitely, definitely trying to sneak off.

Verity couldn’t wait to see Miles.

And since today seemed to be the day where all her wishes came true, the front door opened and there he was, barefoot and bare-chested in a pair of gray sweats. Better yet? He was wearing his cranky cop face as he stalked toward them.

This was going to be sooo good.

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