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I watch Mrs. Brown out the window and wonder about what she said.
Do I need to watch my reputation more closely around Cole?
Moreover, would it be a terrible thing for me to wonder when I can kiss him again?
12
Cole
“So? What do you think of the property?” Beatrice Wilson asks. “Isn’t this place an absolute dream?”
I squint at the house, trying to ignore Beatrice. She’s a very sprightly sixty-five-year-old real estate agent who has lived next door to La Villa Coralle for as long as I can remember. She tugs on her crisp white pantsuit and looks at me imploringly.
“It’s spacious,” Rex says. He lopes up from behind me with the property flyer in his hand. “Does it really have his-and-hers, wet-and-dry saunas?”
“Yes! They are outside. Let’s head toward the beach.”
“Rex.” My voice is testy. “This house is way too big for a bachelor.”
Rex shrugs. “What is too big, really? Maybe you and Charlie could crash here with me while we work on the training camp.”
I check my wristwatch, trying to hide my complete annoyance. “That’s three bedrooms. This place has ten. It has the same footprint as our parents’ house. You can buy this place, but you’re going to pay a fortune in property taxes and insurance.”
“It’s paying for luxury,” Bea interrupts. “Can you really put a price tag on that?”
I give Bea a hard stare. “This place has been on the market for years. I assume that’s because the owners won’t accept less than some magic number they have in mind. That means it has almost no resale value.”
Rex casually leans over and punches me in the arm. “You’re always such a downer.”
“I thought that was why you brought me here!” I exclaim. “I’m your brother. But more importantly, I’m your agent. I have a pretty good idea of your net worth, Rex.”
“I brought you here because you were the only person in our family who wasn’t busy today.”
“I think you brought me because you like to have someone tell you that you shouldn’t do something. You live for the negative reaction. If this is going to be like when you were house shopping in Atlanta all over again, I can just go home.”
Rex slides his glance over to Bea. “Cole was very against me buying my last home. But I think I thrived there.”
“Your last home was a deconsecrated abbey. It was an insane purchase.”
Rex hikes his thumb over his shoulder at me, still talking to Bea.
“He’s not a very creative thinker. But I still like to hear his opinion. You know?”
“You have this whole narrative that I’m the grumpy brother,” I protest. “But I think I’m the only sensible one. All the rest of you wear the biggest pairs of rose-colored glasses ever.”
“Mr. Opinionated over here,” Rex says.
“You’re being a dick.”
He splays his hands and grins at Bea.
“We’ve been arguing about this exact thing since we were kids.” He finally turns to face me. “Remember when Sarah moved in and you kept throwing a fit? You were unbearable even back then. Sarah was moving in with River and Brooks, and you wouldn’t let the movers in through the front door. I think Dad had to ground you to get you to stop.”
My eye twitches. “It was a lot more nuanced than that and you know it. We had just lost Mom. The whole family was in mourning! And then Dad just moves a strange woman and her kids in without even talking to us about it.”
“That’s not exactly how it happened.” Rex’s grin drops away. “Dad had to pick you up and physically move you to stop you from blocking the doors. I seem to remember that you also got in trouble for throwing a fit when Sarah tried to rearrange the knick-knacks in the living room.”
“Gentlemen, I–,” Bea tries to cut in.
