Page 11 of One More Time

My belly spun, executing a happy little flip. “Hi,” I squeaked.

“Thanks for taking the time to show me the house. I feel like I’m asking you to do extra.”

“Not at all,” I insisted. “I usually cover for Sandy when she’s out.”

“The houses all look the same, like you said,” Jack said as he turned to face them.

Our property management company owned properties all over Fireweed Harbor and other areas in Alaska. These homes were mini Cape-style homes. They each had one dormer upstairs and two windows downstairs, flanking a central door and cute front porches.

Our property management business was a small part of the corporation. Fireweed Industries was initially just a winery, a little passion project of our grandmother’s. That had expanded into a brewery, a restaurant, and more. Once money began to flow, our earlier generation invested wisely, taking advantage of the oil boom in Alaska. Those investments had been the springboard for the business to become a multinational corporation, one of the largest hailed from Alaska. We had our headquarters in Seattle for years, but when my eldest brother Rhys took over fully as CEO, he decided to bring us back home to Fireweed Harbor. With the internet, we didn’t need to be in a major city anymore to run the business.

We were all glad to be back in Fireweed Harbor. Recently, we’d invested heavily in shifting from fossil fuel projects to renewable energy resources. Our long-term plan was already beginning to pay off, thanks to the vision of Rhys and our cousin Archer.

I ran public relations for the entire corporation. I loved my job.

“Do I get my pick?” Jack quipped as his gaze scanned the houses.

I pointed at the one on the very end. “That’s the only one available.” It happened to be where Rhys and Haven lived for a while before they finished building their new home. With a toddler, they definitely needed more space than these small houses offered.

Jack glanced down, his eyes crinkling with his smile. Tingles radiated outward through me.

“Follow me.” We walked up the steps, and I punched in the code on the keypad.

Jack held the door for me, and I told myself I didn’t need to swoon over him being polite. We stepped inside, and I ordered my hormones to chill out. They weren’t listening, but I tried. I swung an arm around the space. “Here it is.”

I gestured around the living room area downstairs with light-colored hardwood flooring and tall windows. “There’s even a fireplace.” Jack’s low laughter sent a sizzle of heat zipping up my spine. “There’s the kitchen. No table but a counter with stools. That staircase takes you to a small loft area. There’s a single bedroom with a nice en suite bathroom upstairs.” He nodded along as my words tumbled out in a nervous rush. “There’s a half bath and laundry through there.” I paused to take a breath. I was just ridiculous, getting all worked up over showing a rental. “Go ahead and walk around.”

He strolled around the downstairs while I refused to look at him. My hormones were going insane. They were raising a ruckus and making me hot all over.

I rested my hips against the counter and checked my email on my phone. I needed something to distract me. A few minutes later, I heard Jack come downstairs. He walked into the downstairs bathroom. I was pointlessly trying to read a spreadsheet on my phone and didn’t hear him come out.

I jumped when he said, “I’m in.”

My hand flew to my chest, an unwelcome sense of fear racing through me. I turned quickly.

Jack’s brows arched up. “Definitely didn’t mean to startle you.”

I nodded, my heart pounding in an unsteady beat as my brain tried to convince my body there was nothing to freak out about. “Uh, what do you think?”

“I think I’ll take it,” he said dryly. “That was a foregone conclusion, honestly. I need a place, and this is perfect.”

“Are you sure? Do you need to know the rent or anything?”

“You’re not gonna rip me off, are you?” he teased.

My cheeks felt hot as I shook my head.

“I just have one request.”

“What’s that?”

“Can I see the back porch?”

Chapter Eight

Jack

McKenna’s gray eyes blinked up at me. “The porch?” Before I could even reply, she shook her head as if to herself. “Of course.”

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