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Maybe nature will help me find some clarity. Or perhaps it will just make my allergies go nuts.
My GPS tells me I’m getting close, and my hand reaches out to turn down the music. Of course, lowering the music helps me to see better while looking for my turn. That makes total sense, right?
I turn my small SUV onto a gravel road that leads up to two different houses. I figure the bigger one must belong to the owner of the ranch. Although I didn’t talk to him directly, I did converse with the town realtor. She’s the one who got all the paperwork ready for me to sign. She was beyond lovely, but now, I think it might have been a good idea to at least talk to the owner to make sure he’s not some crazy psychopath who will have keys to my house.
Oh well. Too late now.
I pull up to a tiny space in front of the house. It’s a cute little place painted a soft yellow and has white shutters on all the windows. There are some flowerbeds out front lining the walkway that leads to the front door. It’s quaint, and I’m hoping the inside is equally as charming.
The thought that this is my new home makes my anxiety begin to rise slowly. The unknown terrifies me to death, and I can’t help but wonder what the hell I am doing here.
Closing my eyes, I focus on my breathing, attempting to bring my heart rate back down. Once it’s almost back to normal, I step out of the SUV and head up the front walk.
There’s a small lockbox on the door with the key inside. I pull out my phone to check and see what the four-digit code is to unlock it.
0-0-0-0.
Really? That’s the code?
My fingers quickly type it in, and the box swings open. Grabbing the key from the inside, I take a deep breath and insert it into the lock.
The first step toward my new life.
Here we go.
Chapter Three
Andi
Eighteen hours.
I’ve been living my shiny, brand-new life for eighteen hours, and already, things aren’t going well.
To start with, I still don’t have any of my things. The moving truck didn’t show up last night, and when I called to inquire about it this morning, the woman I spoke with seemed to have no clue where the truck or any of my belongings are.
Needless to say, I got a little angrier than I should have with the mousy woman on the phone. Ultimately, I know it’s not her fault, and getting mad at her isn’t going to help me get my stuff here any faster.
With none of my furniture, I spent the night curled up on the floor. Thankfully, I had stowed a couple of blankets and pillows in my car, not wanting them to get dirty in the moving truck. They did little to help with sleeping on the uncomfortable hardwood floors, though.
And with no food or drink in this place, I’ve been eating all of my road trip snacks I’d purchased when leaving California. At the time, I scolded myself for buying enough to feed an army, but now I’m grateful for my gluttony.
To pass the time, I’ve been watching YouTube on my phone. I can feel my brain getting fried as I go down the internet rabbit hole. It all starts with watching a woman apply makeup far better than I ever could, and slowly, I just start clicking on random ‘related’ videos. And before I know it, BAM, I’m watching a video about a woman who calls herself the Shark Whisperer. YouTube is a strange, strange place.
Glancing around, I take in my new home, trying to picture how I want to decorate it once my things arrive. It’s a nice place, I must say. It’s not huge, by any means, but how much space do I really need? I’m just one person. Michael and I had a big house, and I hated cleaning it.
Granted, I hate cleaning anything. I still do it, but I’m not one of those who has to have everything perfect.
At least with this smaller place, cleaning won’t be so much of a pain. And I’ll only be cleaning up after myself, not a messy-ass husband.
The living room has a decent amount of room and opens up into a dining space and kitchen on the other end. The open floor plan, coupled with the beautiful wood floors, makes the area seem infinitely larger and more inviting. It has one bedroom, one and a half baths, and an extra, smaller room that might be useful for an office or extra storage. The rooms smell a little like paint, so I’m assuming they gave the place a quick sprucing up before I moved in.
I wonder who lived here before me.
Getting up from the floor, I head to the restroom to relieve myself. Once I’m back, I glance out the window to the larger house off to the East. I envy the large wrap-around porch that it has with multiple loungers and rockers scattered around. It looks like a house you’d see in an old Southern movie or something.
Suddenly, a man comes walking through the screen door and steps onto the porch. And when I say man, I mean the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Good grief, I can’t even see his face that well, and yet, I’m licking my lips staring at him.
It’s hard to gauge his height from this far, but I can tell you that he’s tall. And muscular. Damn, he’s muscular. He doesn’t look like a bodybuilder, but it seems like every muscle in his body is chiseled and visible under his sun-kissed skin. He turns to walk to the other side of the house, and I see his perfect ass. It looks like two tight tennis balls moving under his faded jeans.
