Page 120 of True North

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” I take her hand, pulling my jeans up with a hand. Half-naked and shaking from the cold and the last twenty minutes, we head into the house. Down the hall, I turn on the shower and test the water. When it’s hot, I usher Lou into the steaming water.

“You too,” she says.

I lose the jeans and boxers and step into the stream. Instantly, she presses against my chest, her palms at my collarbones. I fold around her. This is how it is supposed to be. The two of us, building something incredible.

I will fight with every last breath I have to make sure she has the life she wants.

Every single one.

* * *

Sitting in the bank manager’s office on Thursday morning, I tug at the collar of my shirt. Shoving my hat between my hand between my legs as I lean forward, I watch the man in front of me tally away. For the first month of winter, it’s far too hot.

Maybe it’s the fact we are about to receive the first mortgage repayment request. After the deposit, sale of two of the smaller blocks, and Louisa’s installment, I managed to scrape together a minimal extra payment to prevent the shock of a larger quarterly payment.

Nothing prepares me for the figure typed onto the slip of paper the manager slides over the desk to me. If Lou wasn’t sitting beside me, I would have stormed out, letting the frustration get the better of me.

But she is.

So, I don’t.

She has a way of making me want to be a better man. This situation, as disheartening it is, is no different. I shift on my seat, hold my damn tongue, and take a deep breath.

“It’s more than you thought?” Lou leans over, speaking softly.

“A little.” My brows drop and I spin my hat between my fingers, sending the brim around.

“Interest rates have moved. This is in line with the current mortgage rates. If it’s going to be a pro?—”

“No. We’ll be fine. How many days ’til it comes due?”

“Tomorrow fortnight. You have fourteen days to find the money, Rawlins.”

Fucking hell.

Louisa’s worried gaze swings between me and the bank manager. His attention turns to her, a smirk on his ruddy face as he says, “Hear you’re buyin’ out the Mancinis. I know at least three investors wantin’ a piece of that place. Play poker Thursdays with them, you see.”

“Sounds like a boy’s club. I wouldn’t know anything about those,” Lou says, her expression unreadable.

He shifts on his seat. “How New Age of you, Miss Masters.”

It only takes a split second to recognize the sarcasm in his condescending tone. To my surprise, Lou rallies.

She gives him the most insincere smile I’ve ever seen bless her beautiful face. “Well, you know what they say, if you can’t grow a pair. Outbid them.”

I stifle a laugh, poorly disguising it with a cough. “Right, we must be done here.”

I stand and offer Lou my hand. She pushes to her feet, but her heated stare weighing on the oversized bank manager doesn’t waiver.

“Two weeks, Harry. Default, and we go to auct?—”

I let the door slam behind us, cutting him off. Who kicked his fuckin’ cat? Last time, when I was buying, he was all smiles and handshakes. Now, he’s like the repo man turned mean.

Nice to know the coin can flip so quick. Not surprising, though, round these parts. People’s demeanor changes with their loyalty. My bet is someone made him a better offer.

Over my dead body are they taking our future away.

The muted midmorning sun slaps me from my mental loathing. I take stock of the steady workings of Main Street, shoving my hat onto my head as Louisa’s fine hand slides into mine.

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