Page 73 of Trick or Tease

“Thanks, Ron.”

I hung up and stared at the phone for a moment, my mind racing. Millions. The word kept echoing in my head as I quickly pulled on my clothes. I pulled on my shoes and quickly tied them.

When I made it downstairs, I found Sabrina examining the old kitchen, running her fingers along the dusty countertop. She looked up when she heard my footsteps. I could see the wariness in her eyes.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral.

How much had she heard?

I cleared my throat, hating myself for what I was about to do. “Yeah, just work stuff. Actually, I asked my boss to recommend a real estate appraiser to come check out the property.”

Her eyebrows rose. “An appraiser?”

“For insurance purposes,” I said, the lie sliding out easier than it should have. “With all the foot traffic you guys are expecting for the festival, it’s smart to make sure everything’s properly valued and covered. If someone gets hurt on the property or there’s damage to any of the buildings…”

Sabrina nodded slowly. “That actually sounds like a really smart idea. I hadn’t even thought about liability issues.” She smiled, and it felt like a knife twisting in my gut. “It’s nice having a lawyer around who understands all that stuff.”

“Just want to make sure my family’s protected,” I said, which wasn’t entirely a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth either.

“When’s the appraiser coming?” she asked, moving toward the front door.

“Not sure yet. Ron’s going to email me the details.”

We stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, the day comfortably warm. I automatically reached for her hand. She let me take it, but I could feel the distance that had crept in during that phone call. The easy intimacy from upstairs felt like it had happened days ago instead of minutes.

“We should probably head back,” she said, glancing toward the main house in the distance.

“Sabrina,” I started, not sure what I wanted to say. That I was sorry? That the call had nothing to do with us? That I wasn’t already mentally calculating what my family could do with millions of dollars?

“It’s okay,” she said, squeezing my hand. “I get it. We all have responsibilities.”

We walked back down the hill in comfortable silence, our fingers still intertwined. I found myself stealing glances at Sabrina’s profile. Her hair was mussed from our time in the old house. There was a piece of cobweb clinging to her shoulder that I wanted to brush away.

But something had shifted between us during that phone call. I could feel it in the way she held herself, the careful distance she was maintaining even while holding my hand. The easy intimacy we’d shared upstairs felt fragile now, like it might shatter if I said the wrong thing.

We had officially entered the morning after phase. Except it was the middle of the day. I had no idea what to say. I knew we should probably address the situation, but what was there to say? We had sex.

Amazing sex.

I wanted more sex, but that felt like it could be opening some doors I didn’t want to deal with. We were both adults and we needed to talk about what happened.

“Sabrina—”

“Don’t,” she said. “Not now.”

I nodded because I understood. And I was relieved.

“Later then,” I said.

She grunted, which I assumed was agreement.

“I should probably shower,” she said as we approached the main house. “Get all this dust and other evidence out of my hair before Billy starts asking questions.”

“Good idea,” I agreed, running my free hand through my own hair and feeling the grit. “I’ll do the same.”

We paused in the driveway.

“Uh, will you be back?” I asked. “To work. Or whatever.”