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I had a feeling that if I did, Chris would come back from the dead, turn into the most annoying ghost in the world, and haunt the ever-loving shit out of me.
At the thought of selling now, I felt a cold, bone-deep exhaustion settling into my stomach, completely at odds with the warmth and peace of where I was sitting.
Just like the house and the weight of all this unspoken, unasked-for responsibility, I also didn’t want Charlotte. Or at least not in the way that my sister assumed.
She wasn’t wrong, though, either. I’d never really known how to be myself right off the bat when I felt that first unwelcome zing of attraction.
My problem was trying to keep those things separate. To keep them in tidy corners of my brain so they didn’t muddle up the big thing still sitting at the forefront of my mind.
I pulled out my phone and navigated to the airline site. I scrolled through my options, muttering things that would undoubtedly scar my niece and nephew if they were to hear them. When I finished, I clicked back over to the message thread.
Me:I’ll be there Wednesday. Please stow the handcuffs this time.
Chapter Six
CHARLOTTE
All in all, Burke’s latest arrival to the Campbell House was far less dramatic than the first.
He wasn’t outright scowling, and the grunt he gave me in greeting when he found me clearing some overgrown weeds around the front of the house was fairly mild.
There were no handcuffs and no broken spindles, though every time I walked past the gap in the stair railing, I aimed an annoyed look somewhere in the direction of Florida.
“Good flight?” I asked.
Another grunt.
“So glad to hear it.” I leaned over, yanking out some leafy stalk that wasn’t supposed to be there. The weight of his gaze was a heavy, strange thing. “My week was good too,” I continued. “There’s an excellent chance the roof needs to be replaced, which we didn’t figure into the budget, but when it rained the other night, I managed to collect buckets of water that we could reuse in this beautiful garden here. And, bonus, we’ll get pretty new floors where all the water damaged the original.”
Burke sighed.
“All of this makes me very glad that the owner has decided to come back and help out.” I gave him a sunny smile, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. I decided not to tell him about my inkling that there were foundation issues that would need to be fixed too.
“What time are the interviews tomorrow?”
I brushed the back of my hand over my cheek, trying to clear a stray wisp of hair off my face. “Rob is supposed to be here at ten; he’s coming from Grand Rapids. The builder from Detroit—Jordan—should be here around one, as long as he doesn’t have any traffic issues.”
Burke nodded, staring at the pile of dead grass and shrubs at my feet. My hands were covered with the ratty gloves I’d found in the carriage house, and I’d slapped my mom’s Tigers ball cap over my head.
“Okay. I’ve got errands to run this afternoon, but I’ll be back in the morning,” he said. “I need to find a hotel room.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t book one yet?”
“Didn’t last time either.”
I laughed under my breath. “Good luck.”
He set his hands on his hips as he studied me.
Big hands. I hated that Daphne had made me think anything about the size of his hands. They were perfectly adequate, and it wasn’t important at all that they were much larger than average.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“Two Midwest soccer tournaments in town and a national conference at the Grand Traverse. Welcome to tourist season in Northern Michigan. If you can get a hotel room, it’ll be with a stranger who has a soft heart for former football players with bad attitudes.”
It was amazing how quickly someone’s face could change. It was like watching a thunderstorm front roll across Lake Michigan.
“Excuse me?”
