Page 14 of The Fireman and the Flirt

“What about them?” I pointed to a poster behind him of two guys who had to be brothers, their faces shellacked of all human character, creepy smiles plastered on their lips like they were recruiting for their cult.

“Real estate bros. We have those, too.” Cary rolled his eyes. “Even though I’m an agent with PRG, I like that I have my own book of business. I can set my days how I want them. There’s never a dull moment.”

“That’s what I like about manual labor. People think it’s boring and repetitive, but every day is a new challenge. On the rig, mother nature would throw something new at us. You had to think on your feet. No two days were the same. My brother-in-law works at a tech company in operations. He stares at spreadsheets all day. I could never.”

“I do look at spreadsheets, but not all the time.”

“Same.” I acknowledged. “I didn’t love being a foreman. It was steadier hours, but I hated all the administrative work.”

Since when was I this chatty? Maybe I could smalltalk. Cary must’ve been bringing it out of me.

“I couldn’t have a job where I was in front of a computer all day. Some days are admin days, while others, I’m showing houses or doing walk-throughs of new builds or working on a staging shoot with a photographer.”

I couldn’t imagine Cary sitting behind a desk all day. He was too energetic, too curious.

He put his hands on the table, signaling us to move on, or else we’d be here all day. “Let’s talk about your dream house, Derek.”

“I’m not looking for a dream house. I just need a house that works.”

“Okay, but you’re going to be in this house for a good, long while, so hopefully we can find one that’s slightly better than ‘a house that works.’ And what does that even mean?”

I chuckled. “I don’t know.”

“I promise I won’t show you any houses that don’t have running water or are filled with broken appliances.”

Buying a home was more of an ordeal when it wasn’t your first house, the thrill of newness replaced with the stark realities of homeownership. But I found myself relaxed with Cary, the tiniest bit eager to start the homebuying process.

Cary began typing on his tablet. “What are your must haves?”

“Um…” I was stumped, and I couldn’t say a house that works again. “A garage would be nice. One attached to the house.”

“We can definitely do that.” He bit the corner of his lip to fight back a sarcastic smile, and damn if it wasn’t the cutest thing. “Anything else you would love to have or not have? There’s no wrong answer.”

“I guess it would be nice not to deal with too many stairs. Carrying laundry up and down can be annoying.” I shrugged, unsure if there actuallywasa wrong answer. My house in Alaska had a steep staircase, and I hated forgetting something upstairs. Fortunately, Cary didn’t flinch at my suggestion and entered it into his tablet.

“I totally get that. Our knees aren’t getting any younger. There are some really nice ranch houses in town. What else?”

“Nothing I can think of. I have basic needs.” This was why I stuck to wearing T-shirts and jeans everyday: one less decision to make.

“Two-car garage for when Jolene starts to drive?”

“Sure.” A flash of panic tore through me that my daughter was only a few years out from that reality.

He typed the note into his document. “Do you want a basement or attic?”

“A basement would be nice for storage.”

“Unfinished okay?”

I nodded yes. “How did you know her name?”

“Cal told me. She’s beautiful. I hear she’s whip smart, loves astronomy. She’ll have to go to Renegade Park. I’ve been told there’s great stargazing there.”

A surge of warmth flooded me. It was an uncontrollable response to hearing someone talk so highly about Jolene.

“We’ll have to check it out. She was worried that Sourwood wouldn’t have the same skies as Alaska.”

“I doubt we can compete, but we’re not too shabby. Although, I can’t remember the last time I took a moment to look up at the stars.”

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