“I’m sorry, yourwhat?”
“My books! That was my life’s collection. Some of those were special editions!”
Books. She’s upset about her books. “I thought preventing permanent lung damage was more critical, but my mistake,” I mutter.
“Some of those had sprayed edges—”
“I felt the fire hot at my back and thought we should probably skedaddle. How silly of me.”
“And sewn-in bookmarks! It was my one guilty pleasure. Just the one.”
“Bookmarks?”
“Books!”
I raise my palms. “You’re right. I should have prioritized the books.”
She huffs out a few angry breaths, her eyes narrow and accusing. Then, slowly, her expression shifts into something I don’t like.
Heartbreak.
Yeah, I don’t like that at all. There’s a very caveman-like urge to pull her against me and tell her I’ll replace all of her precious book babies if that will make her smile again, but if I touch her right now, she’ll probably throw her tea in my face.
She wraps her hands over her knees and rocks back and forth a few times. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you had good intentions when you came over to check on me. I’m just…. You know. Kind of messed up right now.”
The guilt spreads from my temples and down into my chest. I need to make this right. “Where are you going to stay if not with me?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. Right now, I’ve got other things to take care of. I need to call Nicole, my realtor, and let her know what happened. Then I’ve got to see what I can salvage from the living room.” She sighs. “Doubt it’s very much.”
“You should probably call your insurance company before you go inside. They might not want you to touch some things.”
She gives me a funny look. “What insurance? I don’t have any.”
I am aghast. “What? How is that possible?”
“The house is too old. My mom couldn’t get a policy.”
This is getting worse and worse by the minute. I rub my palm over my lips, doing my absolute best to hide my rising panic. “That doesn’t seem right.”
She shrugs. “Well, you know, capitalism.”
She picks up her phone from the coffee table and unlocks the screen, oblivious to my internal meltdown.
So I just fucked her. Majorly. And not the way I wanted to.
Moving my head side to side, I crack my neck. I can fix this. I can fix all of this. Starting with her house.
I could buy the damn thing outright with the money I’ve got stashed away from my old life. But that would raise a lot of questions.
What if I just fix it for her? After all, I own a home renovation firm, don’t I?
Sandro’s going to crucify me once he hears what happened. Whatever respect the kid’s still got for me is bound to go right out the window. But we’re taking this project on, and it’s officially our top priority. I don’t care if we have to move some things around to make it happen.
I’ll make her place even better than it was before. And I’ll replace every single one of her books.
Blake groans and presses her palm over her eyes. “What am I going to say to Nicole?Thanks for all your hard work, but I’m a stupid idiot who left a fire burning and burned down her house?”
“You’re not an idiot. It could have happened to anyone.”
