“Okay. There. I’m going to submit this,” he said, tilting the phone so I could review it one last time.
I tugged at my bottom lip, leg bouncing. A growing sense of urgency I couldn’t explain made me want to get up and chop more wood.
“Ready?” he asked. Pace’s thumb hovered over the “accept changes” button.
“Wait.” I shot up off the step and paced in front of him.
He carefully set the phone down, like he was in a bomb squad.
There was an inexplicable tightness in my chest. It must have been that stupid fizzy water. I probably just needed another goodbelch.
“What’s wrong?” Pace’s gaze flicked to where I rubbed my sternum.
“I see that these changes will help,” I said.
“Good,” he said skeptically.
“My concern is that theywillhelp.”
“And that’s bad? You don’t want to rent the house.” It wasn’t a question. He looked at the ground, the brim of his hat hiding his features. “If you aren’t ready, that’s okay. I’m sorry if I was pressuring you.”
Ah, shit.Now I felt bad. He had that wounded puppy look that Ripley gave me when I told her she had to wear her booties to go outside.
I cleared my throat. “It’s not that. It’s more …” I squinted back at the house that was now totally in the dark as the last of the sun was below the tree line. Goose bumps broke out down my arms, and I pulled my flannel back on. “It’s more that I only want to rent it to the exact type of person who will fit within these terms.”
Pace sat back and nodded, chewing his lip for a minute before he spoke. “I see. Now—and try not to take this the wrong way—but what sort of sociopath is going to check all these boxes?”
I opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted by the ping of my phone. I almost didn’t recognize the sound; it was so rarely heard. It was my email inbox.
Pace’s light brown eyebrows shot up. “Is that?—?”
“Well, well, well,” I said, unable to hide my smugness. “Itseems there’s at least one other person like me.”
“God help us,” he mumbled.
I opened the email so that we both could see.
Inside the email was one simple line.
“I’ll take it.”
I waited for the feeling of relief to come. Instead, it was a tumult of disbelief, but I had protested too much already.
Pace shook his head. “I was wrong.”
“Another way of saying that is, ‘You were right, Levi,’” I said, trying to keep my tone light.
Pace opened his mouth, but another uncommon ping trilled through the air. “Wait, there’s a follow-up,” he said.
I frowned. Same emailer. [email protected].
Another single line.
“See notes below.”
I opened the email and quickly scanned it. My scowl grew more fierce with every word.
“This is too great.” Pace had trouble speaking through his laughter. “I wish I could take a picture of your face right now. Oh, wait. I can.”
