Page 11 of Now to Forever (Life on the Ledge Duet #2)

“Anyway, I had to stop by. I knew your grandad. What a guy!” I frown at the mention of my deadbeat relative while he claps his hands and rubs them together quickly, the shape of his eyes nearly morphing into actual money signs. “This place could make us a fortune.”

My eyebrows raise, and he chuckles, waving his palms toward me. “Mostly you, but, hey—” He rubs his index finger and thumb together. “Guy’s gotta pay the bills, right?”

I force a smile “Sure.” We look at the boxes I’ve been working on. “I can show you around . . .”

He bats a dismissive hand.

“No need.” Thank God. “You’re busy. Just a few minutes of walking around will be good for me to get a good grasp for some firm numbers.

Any bodies I should know about?” He chuckles; I don’t know if it’s because he knows my profession or just tells shitty jokes, but when I don’t laugh, he clears his throat. “That work for you?”

On one hand, I’m concerned his sweat situation is going to cause water damage anywhere he walks, but on the other, I appreciate his eagerness. I want this thing sold yesterday.

“If you don’t mind mothballs and hideous décor,” I tell him, gesturing with one hand to the house. “She’s all yours.”

He chuckles. “I’ve seen worse.” Then, with a whistle and phone in hand, he starts examining the house, opening kitchen cabinets, closet doors, and the box of tricks at the bottom of the steps. As he pries the lid off, Molly’s head fully dives into it .

“Sex toys help with resale value, Vince?” I ask from across the room.

He jerks to a stand with a sheepish chuckle. “Never know.” He gives me a wink before pulling the sweat rag from his pocket and wandering down the hall.

Nosy bastard.

I lift a box labeled Donate to take to the Bronco. Through the open front door of the house, I hear tires crunch. The banging of a tailgate. The dumping of something pebbly.

When I peek my head out, there, with a bag of birdseed, stands Ford. Feeding the birds in the middle of the yard.

“Can I help you, Officer?” I ask, descending the porch steps.

He turns with a smile. “Scotty.”

I prop the box on my hip when I’m beside him. “What are you doing?”

“Feeding your birds.” He hangs a filled feeder on the crook and fills another one before tossing the empty bag into the back of his truck. He’s wearing athletic clothes; there’s sweat around the neck of his grey T-shirt.

“You still going to that boxing gym?”

“Depends.” He smirks. It suits him. I notice. “You looking for a fight?”

Not touching that one.

I glance from the feeders to the few birds flittering around a nearby tree. “They don’t look hungry.”

He looks at me, his eyes as bright and blue as the sparkly water around us. “I did it for Archie. ”

Ford is the one who’s been looking after the place. Of course.

“Archie have some kind of army looking after this place?”

He laughs through a puff of breath. “What do you mean?”

“You’re here with birdseed, and some gothic princess likes the dog.” Said dog lets out a loud bark from inside that makes me roll my eyes. “I didn’t know I inherited house guests.”

He nods, slowly, then looks out at the lake. “Who’s the girl?”

“A mystery. A teenager. I don’t know. Horrible makeup and bad clothes on a bike. You know her?”

“I’ve seen her.”

I study the water and the rock ledge; a boat sputters by and a fish jumps.

“All done, Scotty,” Vince calls as he emerges onto the porch, acknowledging Ford as he approaches us and shoves his phone and sweat rag into his pocket. “I think everything I sent you in the email checks out.”

“Good.”

“It’s as ugly as you said,” he says, chuckling, loosening the already loose knot of his tie. “But the bones are good. Should get what I thought. You thinking December?”

I nod.

“December?” Ford asks.

“Scotty’s selling the place,” Vince says with a proud grin. “We’re business partners.”

No, we are not.

Ford says nothing, eyes glued on me .

“Well,” Vince drawls, clapping his hands and rubbing them quickly once again. “Let me know when it’s ready, and we’ll get her listed. Bet this place will go fast. Look at that view.” Another whistle.

Despite how annoying this faucet of a man is, I grin at the good news.

He says goodbye, whistling as he gets into his black Lincoln Town Car and cruises away.

“You really selling?” Ford asks.

I shift the box on my hip. “I’m really selling.”

“Why?”

“Get out of Ledger.”

I can’t read his expression, not the way I used to be able to at least.

“Why?”

“Why not?” I say, bristling. “You left. People don’t always live in the same place forever.”

In the too-long silence, the box feels heavy in my arms. I shift it to my other hip, then opt to hold it in front of me with both hands, putting a barrier between us.

“Where are you going?” he finally asks, eyes bouncing between mine.

“I’m thinking somewhere out west.” Far away from you. I swallow, glancing at the lake. It’s revoltingly perfect. A feeling too big for my body starts to grow under my skin. “Somewhere with a better view. ”

At this, he laughs softly, attention going over my shoulder where Molly is making a series of growling noises I’ve been trying to ignore. “What’s Molly got?”

I turn to find Molly the Menace on the porch with a bright-pink petaled device in her mouth. I groan, annoyed. “Little bitch is eating my best vibrator.” Ford booms out a laugh and I shrug. “There goes my sure thing. That dog hates me.”

He shakes his head, studying me with an amused tilt to his lips. “That’s your sure thing?”

“You offering to fill the void, Officer?” I tease.

He doesn’t hesitate: “Void need filled?”

“Hardly.” I smirk. “I have backups for times such as these.”

We watch the dog eat my beloved, battery-operated boyfriend.

I wonder what Ford’s thinking—if standing so close to me feels like digging up old bones to him as much as it does to me.

If watching a dog chew on my sex toy makes him think of us putting hands and lips and the full weight of our bodies on each other.

“I’ve missed you, Scotty.”

Right there in the middle of broad daylight, those four words clothesline me, nearly causing me to drop the box I’m holding.

All I can manage: “Yeah.”

In our stare, an ache consumes me. The kind that hurts the roots of my hair and ends of my teeth and tips of my fingernails.

The only man I’ve ever loved looks at me like the last twenty years didn’t happen.

“Well, I gotta go kill the dog over future orgasms I’ll never have and keep packing up Archie’s haunted relics.

” I gesture with the box I’m holding. “You need anything else? ”

He shakes his head, but it’s me that moves first. I put the box I’m carrying down—right in the middle of the yard for no reason—and swipe the birding books from the top.

My retreat to the house is with quick steps and my breath held, only stopping to pick up my gnarled vibrator before I slam the front door.

Inside, Molly jumps around like a jack-in-the-box on crack as I press my back against the door. I don’t take a full breath until I hear the crunch of Ford’s tires leaving the driveway. When he’s gone, I throw the vibrator across the house with a yell.

The dog never stops barking.