Page 28 of Pretend

“It has a new septic tank and a roof, updated plumbing and electric, and it’s going to cost a fortune to fix all the damage the previous owner left behind,” Eric said, reaching into his bag and grabbed the file that Uncle Jared left for him and placed it on the floor next to Morgan as he sat up.

“Did Uncle Jared set a budget for the renovation?” Morgan asked as she reached over and picked up the file.

“No,” Eric murmured, watching Morgan frown in confusion.

“He didn’t set a budget?” Morgan asked as she shifted her focus to the file on her lap.

“Not this time,” Eric said while he sat there, absently running his thumb over the thick wedding band on his finger as he watched her search through the file for the contract that didn’t exist.

“That’s not like Uncle Jared,” Morgan murmured to herself as she started her search all over again when she didn’t find the contract. “He didn’t leave any notes about what he wanted done?”

“No,” Eric said softly, watching her as he continued absently running his thumb over the wedding band, taking comfort in the soothing action as he ran his eyes over her, taking in the long, damp curls that she’d put up in a messy bun after her shower, the way that her glasses began their slow descent down her nose as she frowned down at the file on her lap, how unbelievably fucking adorable she looked in his shirt, and the way that her little toes wiggled as she searched for answers before his gaze landed on the matching wedding band on her finger.

“I guess we don’t need these anymore,” Morgan said, following his gaze.

“Guess not,” Eric murmured as he watched Morgan pull the ring that he’d imagined seeing on her finger at least a thousand times off, and after a slight hesitation, she held it out to him.

“I thought Amber wanted to use her grandmother’s rings,” Morgan said as he reluctantly reached over and took the ring from her.

“She did,” Eric said as he rolled the small ring between his fingertips before he reached inside his bag and grabbed the small black box that he’d been carrying for the past year and carefully placed the ring back in its slot, praying like hell that it was the last time.

“Then, where did you get the rings?” Morgan asked, throwing him a questioning look as he put the small box back in his bag. “Did you buy them at the airport?”

“Uncle Jared doesn’t own the house,” Eric admitted because the last thing that he wanted to talk about was how fucking pathetic he truly was.

He’d lied to her.

He didn’t propose to Amber.

At least, he didn’t that night.

That night, he’d realized that it was time to move on, but he knew that he couldn’t do that until he talked to Morgan. That somehow led to him stopping by the jewelers on the way home, taking his time looking for the perfect wedding bands, but they weren’t for Amber.

An hour later, he was sitting in his living room, forcing the words out of his mouth and praying for any fucking sign, however small, that he was making a mistake. While he forced the words out of his mouth, he’d watched her, waiting for her to say something to stop him, but instead, she gave him a warm smile as she congratulated him before she left him sitting there, and…

He'd fucking lost it.

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey, drove up to New Hampshire to the campgrounds that his family rented every year and threw the fucking rings in the lake before he proceeded to get drunk. When he woke up the next morning, hungover and so fucking angry that he could barely see straight, Eric told himself that it was over and that he didn’t fucking care. He’d forced himself to walk away, to get in his truck and drive away. He’d barely made it to the next town over before he was turning around.

Four hours later, he was stumbling out of the lake, freezing his ass off and holding those rings tightly in his hand. He’d carried them with him ever since, a token of a dream that he wasn’t ready to let go, and now…

He was ready to turn that dream into reality.

“Uncle Jared doesn’t own the house?” Morgan asked as her glasses started sliding back down her nose and-

“We do.”

CHAPTER18

She couldn’t believe that he did this, Morgan thought as she angrily made up the bed that she’d spent the night tossing and turning on and-

“He loves Baker House,” Morgan mumbled sadly as she gave up fighting it and dropped face-first on the rather comfortable bed so that she could grumble against the comforter.

Baker House was his baby.

Five years ago, they got a call to check out a turn-of-the-century hotel that had been turned into a boarding house in the forties, only to be turned back into a hotel in the sixties, an apartment house in the eighties and finally, abandoned in the nineties. By the time they walked into Baker House, it was a nightmare. The electric system was made of knob wiring, the support beams were rotted, the roof was caving in, most of the plumbing had been ripped out and what was left was outdated, most of the units didn’t have heat, the foundation was screwed and Eric had instantly fallen in love with the old building.

The new owner, on the other hand, regretted his decision to buy the building as soon as they gave him their estimate. That led the new owner to trying to talk them down on their price and trying to get a cheaper estimate from every contractor within a hundred-mile radius, including Uncle Jared, and then finally, deciding that it was too much for him to handle and put it back on the market for almost twice what he’d paid for it.

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