Page 25 of Somewhere You Belong

“The next time you want to ask for a favor, try not insulting the person beforehand.” She pops her hip out again, arching a brow at me this time.

“You’re one to talk, lady. You came intomyrestaurant with a stick up your ass, acting like you were too good for this place.”

Definitely not going to win brownie points with those words, Dallas.

Her gaze turns fiery. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just trying to help you out, despite the fact that you and I see things very differently, we come from completely different walks of life, and under that cold exterior, you clearly don’t have a heart.”

Her eyes blaze with anger now. “You don’t even know me!”

“I know you don’t belong here,” I say, and I’m surprised by the way she jolts as if I’d delivered a physical blow.

Her lips press into a thin line as we stare at one another, but she finally clears her throat and walks to the door, holding it open for me. “I think you should go.”

“Gladly,” I mutter. “This was clearly a waste of time.”

“No. It wasn’t.” I turn to face her as I step out of the house. “Now I know who Iwon’tbe selling this house to when it’s finished.”

Fuck. “Well, maybe I’ll make sure everyone in town knows not to trust the seller,” I counter, feeling immaturity take over. Something about this woman makes me feel like a teenager, itching for a fight.

“Good luck with that.” She flashes me a tight-lipped smile as I walk out the door, and then slams it in my face as soon as I turn to have the last word.

“Fuck,” I mutter as I move away from the door, feeling her eyes on me through the windows as I walk around the porch and head back to my car, pissed off that I let this woman get under my skin yet again.

“HONK!” Behind me, geese start to gather and follow me down the gravel driveway. But hell, at this point, let them attack me on her property.

Maybe I’ll sue. Maybe I’ll use it as leverage. Because come hell or high water, I’ll find some way to get that woman to give up this house.

And find a way to get her lips out of my mind.

Chapter six

Willow

“Ugh! Who does that guy think he is?” My arms are shaking with the anger racing through my body and my breathing is harsh.

How dare that man come intomyhouse, demand I sell it to him, andtheninsult me when I don’t give in.

Funny how all of a sudden you’re willingly claiming the house as yours, isn’t it, Willow?

I growl in frustration and head back up the stairs to continue setting up the things I bought for the bathroom since it looks like I’m going to be staying here for a while after all—a decision I made just a few hours ago after Penn left and I realized I wanted to be here to oversee the renovations.

Knowing the best way to process the developments today is venting with my best friend, I call Shauna and place her on speakerphone as I begin opening the bags of items for the bathroom, taking out my raging frustration on the plastic.

“I haven’t heard from you in a few days. I was starting to think you’d been swept off your feet by a charming local carpenter. Or given up corporate life to start teaching yoga to retirees. Or maybe you’d started renovating a quaint but rundown—”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” I say, cutting her off before she can throw any more clichés at me.

“I thought so. Well, what’s the update on the house?”

Naturally, I called her the second I gathered myself the other day and updated her on the mysterious inheritance that brought me here.

“I found a handyman to check out the house today. His name is Penn.”

“Oh, that’s kinda rugged. Is he hot?”

“Um… He’s tall.”

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