After she hung up, she walked through the house, trying to see it through Dustin's eyes. The living room where he'd sat yesterday, taking in her furniture and her framed degree. The kitchen where they'd share morning coffee and conversations that would probably start out awkward and turn into something more. The hallway that led to the bedroom that would be his,with its own entrance to the patio where he could come and go without disturbing her.
Where he could bring women without disturbing her.
The jealousy that shot through her at the thought was so sharp it nearly made her gasp. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to breathe through it. He wasn't hers. He'd never be hers. He was a tenant, and she was his landlord, and what he did in his private life was none of her business.
But God, the thought of him with someone else made her want to throw something.
She had no claim on him. No right to care who he brought home or what he did in his spare time. He'd be a tenant, nothing more. A business arrangement.
Except her traitorous heart was already imagining something else entirely. Already picturing what it would be like if he looked at her the way he'd looked at her yesterday every single day. If those brown eyes followed her around her own kitchen. If that smile was meant just for her.
Her phone buzzed with a text from her sister:Any updates on the renter search? Please tell me you found someone normal.
Normal. The insurance adjuster was normal. The bank manager was normal. They were safe, predictable, the kind of tenants who would pay their rent on time and never make her wonder what they looked like first thing in the morning or whether they slept in boxers or briefs or nothing at all.
They were also boring as hell, and none of them had made her feel anything close to what she'd felt in half an hour with Dustin Fleming.
She picked up her phone and dialed his number before she could change her mind.
"Vanessa."
Just her name, but the way he said it sent shivers down her spine. His voice was lower than it had been yesterday, huskier, like he'd just woken up.
"Did I wake you?"
"No, I was just..." She heard rustling, like he was sitting up in bed, and her brain immediately supplied an image of tangled sheets and bare skin that she had no business imagining. "Just resting the ankle. How'd the reference calls go?"
"Fine. They all spoke very highly of you." She walked to the window that looked out over the backyard, trying to picture his truck and horse trailer parked there. Trying to picture him as part of her daily life instead of just a fantasy. "The room is yours if you want it."
Silence on the other end of the line. For a moment she wondered if she'd made a mistake, if he'd changed his mind or found something better.
If he'd felt the same crazy pull yesterday or if it had just been her, alone in her attraction.
"You sure about this?" he asked finally.
Was she sure? Not even close. But her bank account was sure, and her mortgage company would be sure, and maybe sometimes you had to take a leap of faith even when every rational part of your brain was screaming that it was a terrible idea.
Maybe sometimes you had to trust that feeling in your gut that said this one, this is the one who matters.
"I'm sure. When did you want to move in?"
"Today, if that works. I can have the first month's rent and deposit to you in cash."
Today. In a few hours, Dustin Fleming would be living in her house, sharing her space, making her hyperaware of every sound from the room next to hers. Every creak of bedsprings, everyrunning shower, every breath that reminded her he was right there, so close she could walk down the hall and touch him.
"That's fine. What time?"
"How about this afternoon? Say, three o'clock?"
"Three works." She was already mentally rearranging her day, wondering if she should go grocery shopping, if she should cook dinner, if she should pretend she had somewhere else to be so she wouldn't seem too eager to watch him settle in.
So she wouldn't do something crazy like tell him she'd been thinking about him since the moment he'd driven away yesterday.
"Vanessa?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For taking a chance on me. I know I'm not exactly what you were looking for."
