I understand. You like your privacy. This place is like a retreat for you.” She wondered what he was retreating from. Looking past his hotness, she noticed his mouth was tight at the corners. He didn’t seem like a man at ease. In fact, she’d go so far as to say his eyes appeared haunted or at least worried. She knew that expression well. She’d seen it in the mirror often enough over the past couple of years.
“A retreat? Sure. Something like that.” His tone was telling her she’d outstayed her welcome, and he led the way to the front door, leaving her no choice but to follow.
“I’ve always thought of this place as a haven. It’s been abandoned for years, as you can probably tell from its dilapidated state. But the house has so much potential. I had big plans for renovations. Not that I could afford them all at once, but I figured over the years I’d restore it to the beauty it must have been at the turn of the century. I can just see a big, sprawling family living here back then, the rooms filled with kids and pets and laughter. I’m a huge fan of Victorian houses, and I imagined painting the outside lilac with dark purple, green and yellow trim, which I know sounds weird, but that’s the kind of colors they’d use back then. They called the houses ‘painted ladies’.”
Right. Speaking of Victorian times, apparently her tongue was like a runaway horse. She couldn’t bring it back under control.
“Yeah?” he said, and that was enough to set her off again.
“My brother and I used to come here. The house was abandoned when I was about ten, and we wanted to check it out. We didn’t figure it mattered if we broke in and made it our clubhouse. It was great when we were kids. Our own private place. But about middle school Elliot got too cool to hang out with me. He brought his friends here to get high, and they trashed the place. Then a local cop on patrol saw a light flickering in here at night, caught the boys and kicked them out before they could burn it down. We both stopped going here after that. Then someone cleaned it up, moved in for a while as a tenant.”
“You and…Elliot?” Allen said.
“My brother.” She paused by the front door, a hand resting on the knob. “God, you must think I’m crazy babbling on like this. I guess I just wanted you to know this place is special. I hope you come to care for it as much as I have. Just thinking about all the history here is—” She cut herself off with a laugh. “I’m doing it again. Sorry. I’ve got no business telling you what you should feel about your new house.”
“Not at all. I’d like to hear more about the house. You’ve already made me appreciate it more than I did. Honestly, looking around the place, I was beginning to think moving here was a big mistake.” He looked at the plastic container still clutched in his hand. “Hey, if you’re not in any hurry, why don’t you stay and share this chicken with me and tell me more about Arnesdale?”
She looked from him to the sunny day outside. Part of her wanted desperately to run away and hide until she recovered from the humiliation of being caught poking around a stranger’s house, but the rest of her was clamoring that chicken with Mr. Sam “Hotness” Allen was an excellent way to spend what would otherwise be a boring afternoon off.
She weighed her options: laundry and housecleaning or lunch with a handsome, mysterious stranger. “Sure. I’m always up for some of Gopher’s fried chicken. Secret family recipe or box mix, it’s good.”
Ames followed the New York stranger toward the kitchen of the house—from now on she’d have to stop calling it her house—and marveled at the unexpected turn this run-of-the-mill day had taken. Mysterious handsome strangers didn’t land in Arnesdale, ever. What was Sam Allen all about and what had brought him to this quiet backwater?
Chapter Three
Elliot. It wasn’t an extremely common name and this was a small town. How many Elliots could there possibly be, especially ones who had used this house as a getaway when he was a kid?
Ames sure talked a lot, and so had Elliot. If she was his sister, the house they grew up in must have been a noisy place. She was