Page 28 of My Favorite Lost Cause (The Favorites #2)

CHARLIE

I ’ve just come around the cove’s corner, at the tail end of my run, when Maren appears from the opposite direction, blonde ponytail and perky tits bouncing equally, the sun glancing off her shoulders and the crown of her head. Her eyes widen at the sight of me, suddenly wary.

It’s the finger thing, from last night. I meant it as a joke.

I was just going to pretend to do it. But my palm circled her wrist and someone else entirely took over.

I was still telling myself it was funny, but I knew it wasn’t, and the minute her finger was in my mouth…

fuck. The things I wanted to do to that finger would make a porn star blush. And apparently, she knew.

The evening went back to normal after that, aside from the fact that I had a semi all through dinner. Which actually isn’t all that abnormal either, now that Maren’s gotten so casual with her bra use.

But it looks like I’ve got to fix things.

“Hey,” I say, jogging to a halt on the gravel path and leaning against a tree to stretch. “How far are you going?”

She wipes her brow and looks at her watch. “I was going to do another half mile, then turn around. ”

“Learn anything new from your journal last night?” Her eyes widen and something guilty flashes across her face.

She blushes and shakes her head. “I’m not going to read it anymore. I’m gonna leave the whole thing alone.”

“That’s a sudden change.”

She doesn’t quite meet my eye. “You were right, last night. It isn’t a novel. It’s real life. And if it doesn’t end happily, I’d rather not know.”

The inspector arrives shortly after breakfast.

He’s approaching retirement age and surly from the get-go. Even Maren can’t get a smile out of him, when she emerges from the house in all her long-legged glory to offer him a cup of coffee.

“Don’t know how you thought this place was gonna pass,” he says, spitting on the ground as he approaches the porch stairs. “I can already tell you right now it’s not.”

“Well, if the state hadn’t moved the inspection date up by two weeks with almost no warning,” I snap, “maybe it would be different.”

Elijah gives me a look…the kind that says settle the fuck down . And he’s right. I’m not going to win this guy over by arguing with him, but it’s also pretty clear he can’t be won over.

“We’ve got a crew starting work on the roof tomorrow,” Elijah says, “and we’ll have the porch done by the week’s end.”

The inspector rolls his eyes. “Thanks for telling me what I already knew, which is that this is a goddamn waste of my time.”

He stomps around the house, scowling, marking things down, and eventually I just let Elijah follow him because I’m too angry to deal with even one more of his bitter, laughing, “yeah, that’s not up to code” comments beneath his breath .

“What happens if we don’t pass?” Maren asks, wide-eyed.

“I have no idea. I assume we appeal.” I scrub a hand over my face.

I’m not from the South, but I have a decent idea of how the law and due process work, and this entire thing feels shady—the inspection that came in as soon as I turned down the property developer, the timing of it, and the way this guy’s had it in for us from the minute he stepped out of his truck.

Something underhanded is going on, so the normal rules might not apply. And I don’t know what the hell we do then.

That afternoon, someone tapes a sign on the window while we’re in back saying the property is condemned. The letter they’ve slid through the mail slot informs us that any inhabitants must vacate the premises immediately.

We’ll appeal, but if that fails, the state will be demolishing the house in the next thirty to sixty days…at my expense.

“It’s that fucking developer,” I hiss, sitting at the table on the back porch with Maren and Elijah—technically, I guess, we should no longer be sitting out here or using the kitchen, but fuck that.

“If this guy is gunning for us, he’ll find a way to condemn us no matter what we do between now and then. ”

Maren pours us each a glass of wine—I know a situation is stressful when she’s the one suggesting alcohol.

"There’s also a strong possibility that whoever wants your land this badly will just go ahead and get a crew out here to tear the house down in thirty days’ time and claim it was a miscommunication, regardless of whether or not you’ve gotten your extension.

You could sue for it, obviously, but that won’t be worth much, given the shape the house is in now. ”

“Fuck that guy,” reaching for the bottle to top off my glass. “I don’t care if they tear the house down. I’m still not selling. I’ll buy an RV and call it a vacation home. ”

Elijah bites his lip. “And then the state will declare eminent domain and take it from you anyway, Charlie. I think we need help.”

“I have an idea,” Maren says, lighting up suddenly.

She’s impossible to say no to when she’s like this, so rosy-cheeked and hopeful, but then again, when do I ever say no to her?

“Harvey has this friend?—”

“ No .” Okay, it’s possible after all.

She clicks her tongue to scold me. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“It doesn’t matter what you were going to say. I want nothing to do with Harvey and more importantly, I want you having nothing to do with Harvey.”

She huffs an impatient breath. “I said friend , but Andrew’s more an acquaintance he’s friendly with.

We had dinner with him and his wife a few times.

But anyway, he’s originally from South Carolina, I think, and he also does a lot of real estate law—he might know people at a state level who will shut this down.

They’ll have to back off if someone from the governor’s office is insisting on it. ”

Wasn’t she telling me about some guy they used to go to dinner with, the one she thought would make a perfect husband? I’m sure they go out with lots of couples. It’s still suspect.

She sends out a text, and within a minute she’s got the call set up for this evening. I’m not sure how great a lawyer Andrew can be if his schedule is this empty.

She returns to her cottage, Elijah leaves, and I sit on the steps, stewing. I don’t like anything about this. I don’t like that this shady developer has the power to get us condemned this fast and I don’t like that this guy Andrew might be the one to swoop in and save the day.

Maren returns just before the call begins, and I like the situation even less. I’ve grown accustomed to Oak Bluff Maren, bare-faced and hair in a ponytail. Now she’s Manhattan Maren—mascara, hair falling around her shoulders.

“You put on makeup for this?” I ask flatly.

She hitches a shoulder. “I mean…the people we know at home sort of expect it. And I figured I ought to look presentable.”

“You looked presentable enough without it.” I grunt, unhappy as she opens her phone and hits the meeting link.

There’s a two-second delay, and then Andrew appears. He’s maybe in his early forties—and though his hair is flecked with gray, it doesn’t make him look old. He smiles broadly at Maren, as if he’s thrilled to be on this call when he’s doing her a favor.

I’m liking this less by the fucking minute.

“Long time no see, Maren,” he says. “How are you?”

She flushes. “It’s been a busy couple of weeks. Oh, and do you know my stepbrother? Charlie Dalton.”

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Andrew says, civil and nothing more before he returns to Maren. “I heard about you and Harvey. I’m so sorry. You always deserved better than that guy. Kristen and I both said so.”

It’s pretty weird that he’s referencing his wife while he’s looking at Maren with that intimate smile, like he’s already undressing her. And that’s what was ringing a bell before…is this the guy? The one Maren mentioned who’d be the best husband?

“Thanks,” she says. “I’m happy to be out.”

“Not sure if you heard but Kristen and I separated too.”

That’s why he’s fucking looking at her like that.

Maren’s mouth forms a small O . “No, I’m so sorry. I’ve been out of the loop for a while. I hadn’t heard.”

“I really wanted kids; she didn’t,” he says. “She’d kind of left it up in the air for a while, but we were getting to that age, and she still couldn’t pull the trigger. ”

This asshole knows good and well that statement is the way to Maren’s heart. Already, her blue eyes have gone velvet soft.

“I’m sorry. That had to be a hard decision.”

“It was and it also wasn’t,” he says. “She’s married to her job. I wanted someone who was actually interested in being married to me .”

Someone like Maren, clearly. This dick is two seconds from asking her what her ring size is.

“Anyway,” I cut in, ignoring Maren’s sharp glance, “this developer wants the place, and he must be paying people off because we were condemned immediately, and they’ve only given us thirty days, which is barely enough time for an appeal.”

Maren kicks my foot and smiles at Andrew. “I just thought since you’re from down here and this is what you do for a living, you might have some thoughts.”

Andrew shrugs. “I’m actually from North Carolina, but I do have some thoughts on how to proceed. Why don’t I come see the place, and we go from there? I’ll file the injunction immediately, but it’ll be easier for me to go to bat for you if I can say I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

Bullshit. It’s not the fucking property he wants to see with his own eyes.

“That would be fantastic,” says Maren, “if you can spare the time.”

“I’ve got some friends golfing in Hilton Head this week, and I was thinking about coming down for a few days anyway.

What if I swing by Friday, and then I’ll head there after?

And you might want to ask around, in the meantime, to see who in town is benefitting.

The Junior League/country club crowd would be a good place to start if you have an in. ”

“I’ll get right on it,” Maren says. “Friday is perfect.”

Andrew is grinning ear to ear. “It’s a date,” he says.

No, it fucking isn’t .

We end the call, and she bounces off the step and throws her hands in the air. “It worked!” she shouts. “Charlie, he’s totally going to solve this for us. I know he is. I can’t believe he’s coming down here.”

I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “Did we just sit through the same call, Maren?”

Her mouth falls. “What are you talking about? You heard him say point blank that he has thoughts, and he’s even coming to see the place. I mean, I know it’s not in the greatest shape, but that’s sort of the whole point…we’re working on it and?—”

“He’s coming down here to fuck you,” I say between my teeth. “Helping us with the house is just an excuse.”

She stares for a moment, then laughs. “ What? That’s crazy.”

“Maren, he didn’t look at me once through the entire call.”

“He was on video! You couldn’t even tell who he was looking at!”

“I could fucking tell,” I growl, gripping the step beneath me. “He ended the conversation with it’s a date , for God’s sake.”

“That’s just an expression, Charlie. People use it all the time.”

“Yeah, especially when they’re flying several hours south to fuck the girl they’ve just said it to.”

“Stop saying that,” she scolds. “It’s so crude.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Maren. He’s coming to make love to you. Is that better? He’s coming to initiate the biological processes that lead to reproduction.”

“Charlie, he did not say a single thing like that on a call during which he was speaking to both of us.”

I climb to my feet and walk down the stairs to where she stands. I’m too close to her, too angry. “Ah, so the part where he’s crying about how bad he wants kids was for my benefit, was it? That’s a perfectly normal thing to share with a dude you met five seconds prior.”

Her arms fold, pushing her gorgeous, way-more-than-a- handful rack up to its full advantage. The sight alone would have Andrew waiving the prenup. It could make me waive a prenup, and I don’t even want to get married.

“I have no idea what’s wrong with you,” she says. “He was lovely, he’s obviously going through a hard time, and he’s going to help us out. That’s all you should be taking from the conversation.”

“He’s the guy you mentioned, isn’t he? The one you thought you should have married?”

She blushes. “Yes, but…I had no idea he was separated. That’s not why I thought of him.”

I walk inside before I say the words bubbling up within me. Words that go something like this: I saved this house for you. But I’ll burn it to the ground to keep you from winding up with someone else.