45
Colton watched his spitfire leave, fighting the urge to chase after her. She’d laid the ground rules, set the boundary, and he wanted to respect that. If she needed to walk away, he’d let her.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t find her later.
He ran his hand over his face, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose. He needed to do something to reiterate how he felt about her — not matter what happened with San Francisco, that would never change.
But first, he needed to finalize the sale with Mr. Denaube.
Colton had crashed at Dragan’s since his flight got in late, and he walked back there to get his car. He was meeting the old man at his house on the other side of town, past the church where the Christmas Tree Lighting took place. Telling his mom about the job had been his first order of business, and while he drove to settle this next affair, he imagined how he’d tell Katie and the guys. And Ruby.
He still had to tell her, and while finding space for s converted school bus tiny home would be hard to find in San Francisco, he was sure they could make it work. If she wanted to at least.
Passing all the familiar shops on his way through town, a wave of sorrow passed over Colton. Traveling around the world had been one thing, but Oak Valley had always been home base. Even when he lived in Jersey, that penthouse had never been home. And now he’d be setting up shop across the country, working long hours and hard days. He realized he probably wouldn’t get to come back except for holidays, if he even had time off.
He passed the giant tree, white lights still strung but not on. They usually weren’t until it got dark, but the town liked to keep things festive as long as possible. Lamp posts had their holiday wreaths swapped out for red and pink tinsel hearts, the trees in the die walked still laced with their own lights. The slight covering of snow on the ground helped it feel festive, and he knew the Salvation Army collector would be ringing their bell until the Festival — just with a springy heart headband instead of a Santa hat.
He slowed down, looking for the long drive that Mr. Elio Denaube had marked as his house, complete with a Beware of Dog and Trespassers Will Be Shot sign. Colton found the drive and turned, curling through the woods before lighting upon a grand estate. Elio’s family went way back in Oak Valley, and it was rumored his ancestors were some of the old French settlers that had claimed this spot as theirs. Colton wasn’t sure what he did — he was more a town hermit than the involved type — but he knew Elio had something he wanted, needed.
The drive had been gravel, but the path winding through a wild, landscaped garden was paved in blue stone. The front exterior was old stone, with clear additions behind the facade. Colton tapped the lion head knocker against the large wood door and took a step back. A woman in all black opened the door, and it took Colton a moment to recognize Caleb’s mom. Her strawberry blond hair was pulled into a loose braid, a simple elegance to her he’d never seen.
“Colton! What a pleasant surprise.”
“Hi, Mrs. Walsh. I wasn’t expecting to see you,” he chuckled as she let him into the grand foyer.
“You can place your shoes there, or use the booties over them.” She pointed to a place for the shoes and where a box of blue shoe covers sat. “I’m Elio’s house manager, he said he had an in-person meeting today but didn’t give me a name. No one comes down the drive, so it’s rare to have a visitor. Especially when it’s my son’s friend!” She rubbed his arm, and Colton could only answer with a weak smile. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the status of his friendship with her son was in question.
“Wait here a moment.” Mrs. Walsh took off down the center hallway before disappearing. Colton looked around. Everything was made out of stone, marble, or wood, with ceilings that had to be at least thirty feet in some placed. While the front of the house was clearly original, the rest of the house had been updated and added to over the years. The foyer had a large lantern chandelier, a staircase curving from one side of the room to the other. Beneath the second floor was a hallway down the center, with a hallway to the right and a wood paneled door to the left that almost disappeared into the wall.
Mrs. Walsh came back, waving her hand for Colton to follow her. The rest of the house — at least from what he saw — was less imposing and more cozy but bright, with plush Persian rugs lining the floors, soft light filtering through open doors and windows at the end of every hallway. The walls were bare except for antique mirrors that bounced the light, the wide hallways occasionally boasting beautiful restored antique cabinets and sideboards. She stopped in front of a door, gently knocking so it slowly opened. She pushed it all the way and led Colton into an office.
Mr. Denaube stood from behind a large desk that looked straight out of the 1950s, framed by built-in wood bookshelves spanning the wall behind him. Two mid-century modern, black leather chairs faced the desk, with a furry white rug — sheepskin? — laid beneath everything. No art adorned the white walls, but photos of family were littered everywhere, including ones that looked like Elio with a family. Colton had to keep his brow from furrowing — he’d never heard much of the Denaube clan, had never seen any kids or members with the last name about town. He’d always assumed it had just been Elio, the town hermit, who based off the entrance to his drive lived in a house falling down despite the rumors of old money. The patriarch took his time coming out from behind the desk, dressed in a suit but with the top two buttons of his shirt undone. For an eighty-something-year-old man, he moved like he was ten years younger and looked ten years younger than that. He held out a wrinkled hand. While it shook slightly, when Colton grasped it his grip was firm.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Taylor.” His blue eyes twinkled, white hair carefully combed back.
“Likewise, sir.”
“Thank you, Carolyn.” Mrs. Walsh smiled and left, closing the door behind her.
Elio waved at the seats in front of the desk, taking the chair behind it. Sitting, he folded his hands on top of the deck and regarded Colton.
“I must say, your sister is something.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“She sure is. She’s busted her butt, she’s really worked hard to get where she’s at.”
Elio smiled. “I appreciate a man that knows what language to use, but I’m not some uptight gent. Sometimes we work hard and get fucked, sometimes things work out. The main thing is to keep going.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“I imagine you do know a bit about that. It’s a hard lesson, but a necessary one.”
Colton nodded. “As long as my family is taken care of, I can figure the rest out.”
“A man after my own heart.” Elio cleared his throat, shuffling some papers and pushing two documents bound in a plastic covers. “I had my lawyers draft a contract for the sale of the land — and a copy — please feel free to read it over or have an attorney read it over on your behalf.”
“To be frank, Mr. Denaube, I need to finalize the purchase today.”
He waved his hand and leaned back in his chair. “Whatever you need, I think you’ll find the language reasonable and the sale fair. It’s fairly straightforward, since you’re buying it outright.”