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Jimmy turned to me. “Erik, I’d like you to meet my wife, Melena.”

I watched Erik’s smile die as he heard Jimmy and caught sight of me. “Melena? Your new wife is Melena?”

Jimmy glanced from Erik to me. “You know each other?”

I nodded reluctantly. Was Jimmy going to lose it? From what I knew about Erik, if their roles were reversed, he’d be unbearable. “Erik and I dated briefly.”

Erik cleared his throat. “Veryrecently. You weren’t married then, were you? I don’t date married women.” He shifted his glance to Jimmy, trying to gauge his reaction. Jimmy kept his smooth professional face in play, calm and composed. If anything, Jimmy’s lack of response riled Erik more. His face flushed with angry color, like me marrying Jimmy was a personal slight. A game he lost.

Kill me now. Erik and I had gone out only a couple of times but had no real chemistry. Our few kisses had left me cold. His dominating attitude had left me colder. Competition was fun sometimes. But I wanted to be with someone who’d ultimately support me. Jimmy beat out Erik in five minutes flat on that front. Erik would have leaned into the drama of me passing out on a date and called an ambulance, dining on the story for days. He would never listen to my wishes to take me quietly and sit with me through it all.

I did my best to smooth over the awkwardness. “Jimmy and I are newlyweds. Things happened fast. I hadn’t met Jimmy yet when you and I went out.”

The awkward refused to be smoothed. Erik’s laugh had an edge. “Shotgun wedding or love at first sight?”

I could tell my quick marriage grated on him. He probably viewed it as me winning after I ghosted him. Though he might not view it as me beating him to the altar if he was informedwhyI’d married Jimmy. I couldn’t even be vague about the timeline because he knew, dammit. “Hey, when it’s right, it’s right.” I glanced at Jimmy with a smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to see some houses.”

It was forced as hell, but I made it work. Erik still looked dubious, but he took the hint and dropped the subject of our marriage.

“Great. I’ll drive. I’ve set up appointments at all of the properties you requested, and I’ve got one more you might like given your change in circumstances.”

Jimmy squeezed my hand as we followed Erik outside, and I debated asking him if we could drive ourselves. I hoped Erik’s desire to ‘win’ by selling Jimmy a house had overridden his desire to best me. Male pride was hard to predict. I glanced at Jimmy, but his expression was smooth. He didn’t seem to be bothered at all that Erik and I had dated. I waffled between relief and disappointment. He wasn’t in competition with Erik, but part of me wanted to know he cared at least a little.

Erik showed us out to a big black SUV. Jimmy ushered me toward the front seat next to Erik, and I hung back before taking a reluctant step forward.

Erik couldn’t let it go. He kept peppering us with questions under the guise of small talk, as if he were trying to catch us in a lie. Jimmy maintained his calm with short, affable answers, but I quit trying. I didn’t need to tell Erik details about our wedding ceremony or if we were living together now. It was none of his business. What was going to be a fun adventure had turned into one of the circles of Hell. Hopefully, we’d get past our bumpy start and enjoy the day.

The first three properties were duds, but Eric gave us room to explore. Jimmy and I walked through each hand in hand. The first house was newer, built in the last ten years, and it had nice finishes.

“I like the dark cabinets and tile floors,” I told Jimmy.

“Yeah, but the kitchen looked much bigger online.”

I nodded, sharing his disappointment. In person, it was a two-butt kitchen at most, built with two long counters and cabinets above. There was no prep island or seating counter. Jimmy was big enough that I’d be constantly underfoot, and there was no way I was getting in the way of his cooking genius.

“It’s a no?” I asked.

He nodded and squeezed my hand. “It’s a no for me unless you love it.”

Something turned to mush inside, and I squeezed his hand back before shaking my head. No way was I letting him buy a house with a kitchen he didn’t love to satisfy me. That wasn’t what our partnership was about. We didn’t bother with exploring the rest of the house and instead Erik drove us to the next property.

The second house was over a hundred years old. The owners had knocked down walls to enlarge the kitchen, and it was beautiful. They’d preserved the character of the room by keeping the tin molding on the ceiling. It was shiny and intricate but cold. It gave the room an industrial feel, and the rest of the house was shabby and cramped in comparison. Jimmy had wrinkled his nose in every room. As much as I admired the owners’ dedication to the kitchen space, the rest of the house didn’t do it for me either.

The third house had elegant bones but needed a lot of work. The kitchen was dated, with older appliances and cabinets covered in olive green paint chipped at the contact points. It was an eyesore. I winced at the color and Jimmy laughed.

“Yeah, it’s that bad,” he agreed.

“We could fix it up,” I offered tentatively.

He shook his head. “A kitchen remodel puts this one outside of our budget with the other repairs it would need. Online this house looked like a lot less work.”

I nodded. I wasn’t contributing anything to the budget, and I knew from my work with my parents it was easily a fifty-thousand-dollar remodel. If Jimmy didn’t have that kind of cash, I was the last one to argue. Jimmy and I were on the same page; he was the money man behind the purchase, and his cooking was art. He needed a worthy studio to practice.

Erik gave us space to walk each house, only commenting on features he thought we missed. It was refreshing because I’d worried about a hard sell from him. He still watched us like a hawk, as if waiting for me to screw up and reveal something that would tell him he’d won our virtual competition.

The fourth place had potential. Situated on one of the quieter streets in north Tacoma, it was small, but had a lot of character. The craftsman style home had three levels. The downstairs basement was unfinished, and the attic room was tiny, but the main floor had two bedrooms, a bathroom, living room, and a refurbished kitchen. It wasn’t large, but it was still an improvement over the apartment Jimmy lived in. The white farm style cabinets and quartz countertops exuded casual warmth. A window over the sink let in a lot of light, and the overall effect was airy and cozy. I could envision a kitchen table where I could do my books and insurance billing while Jimmy made dinner.

“What do you think?” I asked.