A sleek black SUV pulled up, kicking up dust as it came to a stop. The woman who stepped out wasn’t the realtor I’d been expecting. She was older, maybe mid-fifties, with short silver hair and the kind of tailored pantsuit that screamed money.
“Mr. Callahan?” she called, picking her way carefully through the debris in heels that had no business being anywhere near a construction site. “Vivian Palmer. I’m here about the property.”
I pushed off from my truck, adjusting my hat as I approached her. “Where’s Marjorie? The realtor?”
“Had an emergency with another client. Asked if I’d mind meeting you directly.” She extended a perfectly manicured hand. “Hope that’s not a problem.”
I shook her hand briefly. “Not as long as you’re serious about buying.”
“I don’t waste my time, Mr. Callahan, and I don’t expect others to waste mine.” She surveyed the destruction around us, her expression giving nothing away. “I understand this was quite the working ranch before the tornado.”
“So they tell me,” I shrugged. “I haven’t been back in years. I just inherited it.”
Vivian’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I see. Well, I’m not interested in the structures, anyway. It’s the land I’m after.”
That caught my attention. “The land?”
She nodded, pulling out a tablet from her designer bag. “My company is looking to develop a series of high-end vacation homes in the area. Your property has decent highway access, beautiful views, and the acreage we need. Not to mention, this town is relatively undeveloped.”
I felt a small spark of hope ignite in my chest. This woman wasn’t here for some sentimental bullshit about preserving my father’s legacy. She wanted the land for business. Clean, simple, transactional.
“So what’s your offer?” I asked, not bothering with small talk.
Vivian smiled, a practiced expression that didn’t reach her eyes. “Direct. I appreciate that. But I’ll need to survey the property first and get a better idea of what we’re looking at.”
“How long will that take?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t want to spend any more time in this hellhole than absolutely necessary.
“I’m going to take a few pictures and some notes. And I’d like to take a soil sample today if that’s alright,” Vivian replied, tapping something into her tablet. “We’ll analyze it and get back to you for further surveys if everything looks good to go.”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “Take as many photos and all the dirt you like.”
Vivian smiled tightly, clearly trying to maintain her professional demeanor despite the rubble and my obvious disinterest. “Excellent. I’ll need about thirty minutes to walk the property line. Would you mind showing me around?”
“I’m not exactly the tour guide type,” I said, gesturing at the destruction around us. “Besides, there’s not much to see thatisn’t obvious. House is gone. Barn’s gone. Everything’s gone except dirt and bad memories.”
“I understand,” she said, though her expression suggested she didn’t. However, she clearly didn’t feel like arguing with me. “I can manage on my own then. The property maps I have should suffice.”
She turned away from me, tablet in hand, and began picking her way through the debris toward what used to be the eastern fence line. I watched her go, wondering if she was legitimate or just another time-waster. God knows I’d had my share of those already.
I leaned back against my truck and pulled out my phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media while keeping one eye on Vivian as she took photos and made notes. The sun beat down on my shoulders, and I found myself wondering what Mike was doing right now. Was he thinking about me? About last night? About how I’d made him moan my name like a prayer?
Fuck. I needed to stop that train of thought immediately. The last thing I needed was to pop a boner while this potential buyer was walking around.
I switched to my messages, surprised to see a text from Brooks.
Brooks: How’s it going with the realtor? Rowan says hi.
I stared at the message, torn between ignoring it and responding. Why did he suddenly care so much? Where was all this concern ten years ago when I actually needed someone?
Before I could decide, I heard the crunch of tires on gravel and looked up to see another vehicle approaching. This time it was a white van that I recognized immediately. Pastor Mike’s church van, looking like it had seen better days even before the tornado hit town.
My heart rate kicked up a notch as he parked and stepped out, looking annoyingly good in a simple blue button-down withthe sleeves rolled up and jeans that hugged his ass in all the right ways. He spotted me and hesitated for a moment before squaring his shoulders and walking over.
“Cash,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “I thought I’d find you here.”
“Stalking me now, Pastor?” I drawled, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. I was too busy trying not to stare at his mouth and remember how it felt wrapped around my cock.
“Hardly.” He held up a paper bag. “You said you had a busy day and I thought you might want some lunch.”
