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Chapter Five

Sawyer

“Hey, don’t you have an appointment in an hour to show the little house on Windmill?” I glanced up from my phone to see Ders standing outside my office. I’d been reading the newspaper—well, my eyes were on the words, but my mind was seeing Fitz’s sexy ass in those Wrangler jeans he wore. He was a tasty mofo for sure.

“Shit. Yeah. What time is it?” I glanced down at my phone to see it was just before ten on Saturday morning.

“You want me to go with you?” As the road captain, it was Ders’ job to ride out with me because we didn’t go out alone if we were on business.

I slid off my cut and hung it on the back of my chair. “I’m taking my truck and not wearing my cut. I don’t wanna scare the guy off. What’s his name again?” I reached into the desk and grabbed my wallet and my keys, along with my Beretta Px4 and a mag before I stood from the chair.

“Fuck if I know. Don’t you write shit down?” Ders stuck his head out the door. “Mouse! What’s the guy’s name Bones is meeting at the East Windmill house?”

Mouse hurried into the office with a printout. “Here’s his info. John Morgan. Checks out and has a great credit score.” He handed me the paper—which I didn’t give two shits about—so I folded it and stuffed it into the front pocket of my jeans.

“Thanks, kid. Can you make a reservation for two at The Bootlegger. Uh, eight o’clock, please.” Mouse nodded and took off, so I did the same.

After I met with the guy about leasing the East Windmill house in Vegas, I planned to go to the East Adkisson house in Pahrump to get TJ to explain what the fuck he was doing on Fremont Street on Thursday night.

The guy TJ beat down had been released from the hospital and was home, according to Mouse. I’d go by his place on Boulder Highway to see if I could pay him off to avoid charges against TJ. First, though, I had to know why TJ had beat his ass.

I turned onto East Windmill Lane and drove down the street of small, nicely manicured homes in the neighborhood not far from The Strip where my dad’s sister had lived until she died. I was in the Army at the time and was her only nephew because Aunt Janice had never married, so I inherited the house when she died.

When I was back home on leave, I stayed there because my parents lived behind the clubhouse in Pahrump, and I didn’t want to be badgered about when I was going to join the Cowboys. I needed my space back then… still did.

Repairs had been made at the house before the previous tenant moved in, and I’d had it freshly painted after Mrs. Steele moved out. The house sat empty for the last three months, and I was anxious to rent the place. I hoped this John Morgan guy worked out.

After parking at the curb, I went up to the porch to see that the neighborhood kid had swept it off like I’d asked. I paid him a hundred bucks a month to look after the place, and he was a diligent employee. He was also thirteen.

I unlocked the door and went inside, gasping at the heat that had built up inside. It was a fucking miracle the place hadn’t exploded. I hurried over to the thermostat and flipped it to get the air conditioner going. When the painter came to refresh the place, he’d turned off the AC because he was going in and out of the house. I hadn’t gone back to the place since I did the walkthrough and completely forgot to turn the unit back on. At least the electric bill wouldn’t be sky-high.

The kitchen had been repainted and a new backsplash had been installed after Mrs. Steele moved out. The little bungalow looked better than the house I lived in, but I had a lot of memories growing up in the other house. Maybe someday, like after I retired from being the president of the Steel Cowboys, I’d move closer to Vegas and give the house to the next prez.

The doorbell rang, so I hurried to the front door and opened it, preparing to assure the guy the air conditioner worked, but I’d forgotten to turn it on. When I met two bright blue eyes, I was tongue-tied.

“Fitz? What are you doing here?”

He looked confused for a moment before he chuckled. “I’m here to see the house. I got a text message from someone named Miles that I was to be here at ten thirty to meet the owner.”

“And I guess your first name is John?”

“John Fitzgerald Morgan. My parents, like most baby boomers, were fans of the young president, and now I gotta go through life with that name.”

We both laughed. “Come on in. I just got here, and I forgot that the painters turned the air conditioner off when they painted the place. The HVAC unit is about five years old, I swear, but it might take a few hours to cool it off in here.”

Fitz came inside and closed the door, scanning the front room with a smile. “This is really nice. How’d you end up with it? Investment?”

“Inherited it from my aunt. She passed away while I was still in the Army, and she left it to me. I had some updates done and rented it out to an older woman. She moved about three months ago, and I had it repainted and a few minor improvements made to freshen it up. Go ahead and look around.”

I went into the kitchen to check the refrigerator; grateful it was still working. The stove was electric and had been my aunt’s, but I wondered if I should get a new one. I turned on the burners and the oven to check them out, and I tested the disposal and the dishwasher. Thankfully, everything worked.

The back door was locked, thankfully, so I walked outside to the patio I’d installed when I was home on leave one time. I had a table and chairs out there that needed to be replaced, but the rest of the place was empty.

I took a seat at the table and pulled up a shopping app to look at a table with an umbrella and four chairs. A grill would be nice out there too. I’d have to check those things out.

Fifteen minutes later, Fitz came outside. “Wow, a fence. That’s nice. Could I have a dog here?”

“If you want. It gets damn hot here in the summer, so you’d need to get some kind of a shelter with access to water if you were going to be out here with the dog for a while. Some people put those boots or sock things on their dogs when they walk them because the sidewalk can heat to over a hundred degrees.” Or so I’d heard. I wasn’t really an animal person so I had no idea if it was true or not.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. We have a dog at the office, and our office manager puts boots on her when she’s taken for a walk. I thought it was a weird thing to do, but now I get it.”

Fitz took a seat on the chair to my right, and I was glad I’d moved the table into the shade of the house so we didn’t burn our asses sitting on the wire chairs.

“So, what do you think? Is this the first place you’ve looked at?” I absolutely didn’t know what to say to the guy.

It was weird, talking to someone who I wasn’t trying to get in bed—yet. Eventually, I would, but maybe that was just me being cocky?

“I, uh, I just saw an apartment on South Jones. Third floor walk-up. I only thought they had those in New York. I’m supposed to see a place this afternoon at two, but I really like this house. I’m not a fan of apartment living, really. When could I move in?”

Fitz had an incredible smile surrounded by a neatly trimmed goatee. There was a little silver mixed in with the blond, but on him, it was gorgeous. Two plump pink lips that would look incredible around my cock.

He was staring at me as though he was waiting for an answer. “Uh, sorry?”

“I asked when I could move in. I mean, I love the place, and there’s a garage for my truck to keep it out of the sun. I’ll need furniture, but I can rent some stuff, and it’s not far from the office. I’d like to take it unless you’ve promised it to someone else.”

That was a lucky fucking break. “I can give you the key now if you want it. Uh, there’s some furniture in the garage and a bed frame if you’d like to use it. Hell, I can help you move it in now.”

The furniture had been Aunt Janice’s, but I’d moved it out of the house for Mrs. Steele because she had her own furniture. Aunt Janice’s furniture was under tarps, so I was pretty sure it was fine.

“That would be great. I’ll go to the bank and get a cashier’s check for the deposit and first month’s rent. Are we still on for dinner tonight? I can sign the lease then.” He gave me another hypnotizing grin.

I hadn’t even thought about the lease. What the hell was wrong with me? The guy had me wrapped around his finger in record time.

Fitz turned in his chair. “Exactly why do you want to have dinner? With me, I mean. I’m sure you eat dinner all the time, but—”

I laughed. “I do have a pesky habit of eating dinner every night.”

“So why me? I mean, why would you invite me to dinner? I’m sure you have a lot more options for company, and I’m damn sure I’ve got about twenty years on ya.”

“How old do you feel?” Age was just a number, but how old he felt was more important to me.

Fitz chuckled. “Some days a hundred. Some days twenty-five.”

“I can relate to that. So, yes, I’m holding you to our date. I’ll meet you at The Bootlegger at eight, but I’ll be there at seven thirty to have a drink so I’m not nervous.” I might as well be honest.

Fitz grinned. “Well, you’ll probably find me at the bar when you come in. I’ll save you a seat.”

“You got it. Let me get you the garage door opener and the extra key. I have a key, but I won’t use it unless there’s an emergency. There’s a kid across the street I pay a hundred bucks a month to sweep the porch and the sidewalk after the landscapers come through to clean up debris and make sure the underground watering system is watering on the right days the county has established. The boy’s name is Elgin Tan. He’s thirteen and a real sweet kid but watch out. He’s always looking to scam you for something.”

Fitz laughed. “I’ll be sure to pay him. See you tonight at seven-ish? I’m looking forward to it.”

We stood and he followed me inside. I stopped at the kitchen drawer where I kept the extra key and the garage door opener, handing him both. “There’s an attic crawl space, but I don’t think there’s anything up there except the heating unit and the filters.”

Fitz extended his hand. “I’m glad you’re gonna be my landlord. It’s funny we didn’t know it was us, but I think that’s lucky.”

God, I didn’t want him to go, but we both had other things to do. He was so tempting that it was hard for me to keep my cool.

I cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah. Me too. We can work out the details another time. I just wanna get to know you tonight and not worry about business. Okay?”

The smile I got was unbelievable. “I’m lookin’ forward to it.” That southern drawl had my dick perking up, though I discreetly pushed it down and hoped he didn’t notice.

I walked him out to his vehicle. “Nice truck.” I looked over the navy double cab F-150 pickup. It wasn’t new, which was smart, but it had been taken care of.

Fitz patted the side panel. “I got it today. Greeley told me not to waste money on a new truck. People drive like they’re in the Indy 500 out here.”

We both laughed. He wasn’t wrong.

I opened the door for him. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Fitz got in, and I closed the door. He started the truck and rolled down the window. “Is this a fancy place we’re going to?”

“Not too much, but they have those white tablecloths.” I patted the door. “Don’t be late.”

He backed out of the driveway, and I waved goodbye.

Once Fitz turned the corner at the end of the street, I went to the garage and began carrying Aunt Janice’s furniture back into the house. I hoped he’d be happily surprised when he showed up to move in.

It was the oddest thing that had ever happened to me. I was attracted to a guy who I wouldn’t ordinarily be attracted to. He was older. He was also sexy as fuck.

What the hell am I thinking?