Page 24 of Somewhere You Belong

“Maybe not, but Carrington Coveis. And you made it pretty damn clear this little town is the last place you want to be. So what’s changed?”

She scowls and says, “Oh, my opinion hasn’t changed. But circumstances have, and it looks like I'm stuck dealing with this town and its rabid geese much longer than expected.”

“First of all, geese can’t get rabies. And secondly, what circumstances?” I shove my hands in my pockets, struggling to contain my frustration. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer, given the timing of her arrival and what my brother told me yesterday.

“It looks like I’ve inherited a project,” she grates out, her eyes flashing with irritation. And, somehow, I find myself admiring her spitfire energy and the purse in her lips from irritation.

Stop looking at her lips, Dallas.

I shake my head and focus on making my case. “Well, what if I told you I could take this project off your hands?”

She twists toward me so fast, I think her head might spin off her neck. “What?”

“This house. That’s the project, right?”

“Yes…” she draws out hesitantly.

“I want it.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I widen my legs and stand my ground.

Her eyes bug out before a smirk flickers across her lips. “Youwant this house?”

“I do. And it’s clear thatyoudon’t. So, if you sell it to me, it’s a win-win.”

“I can’t just hand it over to you. It needs a lot of work.” She waves a hand behind her.

“Well, you’re in luck. I will take it as is and fix it up myself. I’ll even pay more than it’s worth. If you sell it to me now, you can get back to your big city life that much sooner.”

She furrows her brow at me. “Why are you so set onthishouse?”

I let out a heavy sigh and answer honestly. “Because it’s been my dream for years. And despite your disdain for this town, this ismyhome and this house is where I’ve wanted to live as long as I can remember. I have the money for a down payment. It’s just a matter of drawing up paperwork for the loan and it’ll be done. I just…” My words trail off as I search for the right words, but this woman’s face stays cold as stone.

I don’t see a glimmer of hope in those eyes, or in her stance—firm and unwavering. I feel like I laid my cards on the table too quickly. The silence stretches between us, thick with anticipation.

Then, cutting the tension sharply, she simply says, “No.”

Just like that, she smashes my dreams. My hands fall to my sides, like a toddler ready to throw a tantrum. “What? Why?”

She stays silent as we hold a stare-off. “Because you didn’t sayplease,” she replies, her smirk erupting into a full blown, clearly-pleased-with-herself smile.

With a heavy sigh, I roll my eyes and give the woman what she wants. “Pleasesell this house to me.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Still no.”

My patience snaps. “Why the fuck not?”

“It wasgivento me,” she says, letting out a harsh breath and shaking her head. “And even though I do plan on selling it eventually, I’m not in the position to make that decision yet.”

Fuck.

No wonder the previous owner never wanted to speak with me. This house wasn’t just a piece of property; it was a gift for this woman. Now the obscure name of the trust makes sense.

But I’m not giving up hope.

“You can’t be serious about wanting to fix this place up on your own. Do you have even the faintest clue how to do that?” My eyes dart around us, looking at the bones of the house and all of the potential here—potential that she could screw up by making the wrong decision or damage further with the wrong vision. My blood is boiling with frustration the longer this conversation drags on.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Again, that’s not any of your concern. And a word of advice?”

My head pops upat her tone. “Huh?”

---