“And when might that offer be coming?” I asked, cutting to the chase.
She smiled that practiced smile again. “I’ll need to consult with my partners and run the soil samples, but I should have something for you within the next forty-eight hours.”
I didn’t want to spend another night in Sagebrush much less two days. Then there was the closing process that could take a month or more. I bit back a sigh. “Yeah, that works.”
“Excellent.” She handed me a business card. “My direct line is on there. Feel free to call if you have any questions before then.”
I pocketed the card without looking at it. “So what’s the ballpark figure we’re talking here? I don’t want to waste even a couple of days just to hear some lowball offer.”
Vivian’s smile tightened slightly. “I assure you, Mr. Callahan, we don’t make lowball offers. But I can’t give you a number until we’ve completed our analysis.”
I knew a brush-off when I heard one, but I also knew pushing wouldn’t get me anywhere. “Fine. I’ll wait for your call.”
She nodded, extending her hand again. “It’s been a pleasure. I look forward to our next meeting.”
I shook her hand briefly, and she climbed into her SUV, backing carefully around the debris before driving away. I watched her go, wondering if this was finally my ticket out of here or just another dead end.
With both my visitors gone, the property felt eerily quiet. Just me and the ruins of a life I’d never wanted to revisit. I walked back to my truck, eyeing the paper bag Mike had brought. Despite my plan to ignore his peace offering, my stomach growled again.
I opened the bag and pulled out the sandwich. It wasn’t from Dolly’s or any other place in town I recognized. The bread was freshly baked, the bacon perfectly crisp. I took a bite and couldn’t help the small groan of appreciation that escaped me. Homemade. Definitely homemade.
Had Mike made this himself? He’d claimed he couldn’t cook much beyond that taco salad, but this wasn’t just thrown together. This was made with care.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, taking another bite. Why did he have to go and do something nice? It was easier when I could just write him off as another do-gooder who thought he could save my soul with Bible verses and platitudes. It was easier just tohatehim.
I finished the sandwich, then dug out one of the cookies. Chocolate chip, still slightly soft in the middle. Perfect, just like everything else about Pastor Mike seemed to be. It pissed me off how good they were.
I ate two more before forcing myself to put the rest away. The last thing I needed was to start thinking fondly of Mike and his goddamn domestic skills. This was exactly the kind of shit that led to complications, and complications led to disappointments, and disappointments led to me getting hurt again.
No. Better to keep things simple. Fuck him if the opportunity arose again, because let’s face it, the sex had been phenomenal, but keep my distance otherwise. I wasn’t staying in Sagebrush a second longer than necessary.
I climbed into my truck and started the engine, the lockbox still rattling around in the bed. I’d need to find some tools to pry it open. Maybe Brooks had something I could borrow. The thought of asking him for help made me grimace, but I was curious about what was inside that box. My father had kept it locked for a reason. For now though, it would have to wait. I didn’t think I could handle another conversation with damn near anyone today.
As I drove back toward town, I couldn’t help replaying Mike’s visit in my head. The way he’d looked at me, like he was trying to see something beneath all my anger and bitterness. The wayhe’d almost seemed disappointed when I confirmed I was still planning to leave.
What did he expect? That I’d suddenly decide to stay in this town where my own father had thrown me away like garbage? Where no one had bothered to look for me or check if I was okay?
“Fuck this place,” I muttered, pressing harder on the accelerator. And fuck Mike for making me think, even for a second, that there might be something worth staying for.
But as I passed the church on my way back to the parsonage, I caught myself slowing down, wondering if he’d gone back there after dropping off my lunch. Wondering what he was doing right now.
Wondering if he was thinking about me too.
Chapter 14
Mike
The house had been quiet since I’d gotten home from the church that afternoon. Cash kept to his room, which didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in my peace offering earlier that day. However, he was wandering around the place naked to torture me, so I supposed that was some small sort of improvement. Still, I wished the guy would just talk to me or something.
I couldn’t figure out why I cared so much. Obviously there was the issue about me liking broken men. That was obvious. But usually it wasn’t hard to forget about them or at least just move on. Something about Cash had gotten under my skin though. Maybe it was the fact that he’d fucked me better than anyone else ever had. His cock was perfect, he found all my special spots, and he could deliver rough and hard, just the way I liked it. Still, it felt childish being infatuated by him just because the sex was good. You couldn’t base an entire relationship off that, could you?
Relationship?! Since when was that on the table? Clearly I needed to check myself before my emotions got the better of me. Choosing a partner as a pastor was already difficult. They needed to be good with people, understanding of the sort ofhours a pastor kept, and open to working with the community. Cash was none of those things and then some. In fact, I couldn’t think of aworseperson to put into that position. Not to mention the fact that being a gay pastor was most likely working against me already. Small Texas towns weren’t known for being accepting.
Then again, there were a lot more gay men in this town than I expected. Maybe that wouldn’t be an issue. But Cash? He woulddefinitelybe an issue. In fact, he seemed todelightin being an issue.
I was still lost in my thoughts when I heard Cash’s phone ping from across the room. He must’ve left it on the table when he went to his room. The screen lit up briefly, and I tried not to look, but my eyes caught the preview notification anyway.
Realtor: Here’s the message from the buyer. Sorry, but we won’t be making an offer due to…
