Page 65 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

“For my sins.” I say wryly. “It’s my biggest gig yet– or my downfall. I haven’t decided which just yet.”

It was a house once, years ago, but now the place is falling down, half the walls open to the elements, with a roof scattered in pieces on the ground. “Watch yourself,” I warn her, reaching for her hand to steer her around the crumbling brickwork. “This place is a health hazard. It was condemned years ago, it took me months just to track down the owners through the land registry deeds.”

“So this isn’t for a client?” Avery looks surprised.

I shake my head. “Nope, this one’s all mine.”

Which means I’ve sunk just about every spare dollar into it– and I haven’t even gotten started with the rebuild yet.

I lead Avery through the rubble, to the back of the house. I’ve started clearing the wreckage here, leaving bare, dusty ground and a million-dollar view of the ocean.

Avery takes in the ruins. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re so great at your job,” she says cheerfully. “Otherwise… you’d be totally screwed right now.”

I huff a laugh. “Thanks. That’s real supportive.”

“Take it as a sign of my faith in your skills,” Avery grins back at me. “Because literally no one else on earth could look at this mess and think, ‘sure, I’ll rebuild it from scratch’ instead of just bulldozing the whole thing. And calling in hazmat,” she adds, eyeing a patch of mold.

“It was built in the 1800s,” I explain. “By this rich whaling tycoon for his wife. There are photos I found in the library archive, it was incredible back in the day. And will be again, eventually.”

“Go on,” Avery smirks. “Show me the vision.”

I laugh. “Well, this is the ballroom.”

“A ballroom? OK, I like it more already.”

“Living rooms through there… formal dining…” I steer her through the house to the edge of the ruins. “The is my favorite spot though. They had a sunroom, with a full wall of French windows, that opened onto the back terrace. All of this was formal gardens, roses and hydrangeas. It’s technically a private beach, too.” I add. “The guy’s wife was famous for throwing wild parties, they’d all go skinny dipping in the ocean.”

“What a scandal.” Avery laughs. She looks around, almost wistful. “Can you imagine growing up in a house like this?”

I pause, remembering what she said about her father. “Do you see your parents these days?” I ask, trying to be casual.

Avery shakes her head, drawing circles in the dust with her toe. “I send my mom checks, whenever she remembers I’m alive… and my dad died ten years ago. Wrapped his car around a tree on the way home from the bar.”

“I’m sorry.” I watch her, the way she keeps her spine straight and her smile casual.

“Don’t be,” Avery shrugs. “It was a blessing he didn’t take anyone with him. I’d already moved to LA, and since then… it’s just been me.”

“Just you,” I echo. Avery is good at acting like it’s no big deal, but I can see that there’s a world of grit and determination and loneliness wrapped up in those small words.

No wonder she’s chasing her big A-list Hollywood life so hard. There’s never been a safety net waiting to catch her.

She’s learned the hard way not to rely on anyone else.

Avery spins around, all smiles again. “Let me guess, that’s where you’ll have your indoor basketball court,” she jokes, pointing down what will be a hallway, one day.

I smile back. “Sure, why not?”

“It’s kind of a big place though,” she muses. “Won’t you get lonely, rattling around in your ballroom, all by yourself?”

“I guess. It’s going to be a couple of years until it’s ready, though. Maybe by the time it’s done, I’ll have someone to keep me company.”

Someone like you.

The words drop into my mind without any warning, and damn, I can see it already: Avery perched here in the morning, enjoying her coffee with the view. Curled up on the couch watching movies. Running lines for her latest movie out on that terrace.

Crying my name in out loud a king-sized bed; coming for me, every night for the rest of our lives.

Fuck.

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