A breeze blew the tattered lace curtain, offering her a view of outside. Hollyhocks swayed in the garden among tall grasses, bringing back memories of working alongside her mother to swamp her. She leaned against the doorjamb. A sense of calm slowly filled her, and for the first time in months, Sassie felt she could breathe. This was the right home for her. The garden view sealed it. Yes, it would definitely be her room. Her heart soared now that the initial shock was over; the sunshine through the dirty lace curtains beckoned her outside.
But the back door stuck and required a few hard pulls before it would open for her. She stepped out onto the cracked concrete pathway, noticed the other door, and paused. May as well see what horrors were hidden in here too. She turned the handle and pushed it open. Tiny nails scurried over her foot; a patch of dark fur caught her eye before disappearing into the long weeds. She jumped back onto the path, a scream stuck in her throat. Her hand on her heart, Sassie took a peek from a distance. An old cushion lay on the dust-covered floor with most of its stuffing pulled out. It moved as she took a step closer, and, tentatively, she poked it with her foot.
A small, brown nose poked out of the stuffing and she laughed, more relieved than she thought possible. Who knew what kind of creatures she’d find out here in the wilds of a small western town? “Ah, baby mouse. You poor thing you, and I’ve scared your mama away.”
At least it wasn’t a rat or, worse, a raccoon. She took moment to look around the room. A laundry that had seen better days, much like the house itself. An old concrete double tub sat under one window and a set of taps beside it for the washing machine that must have been there once upon a time.
She could work with this space. A bit of spit and polish, a coat of paint on the big shelves down one wall, and it’d be a very handy room. The charm of it all overrode the decay and neglect that had taken its toll over the years.
Taking a deep breath, she walked out and shut the door. It was time to let the possibilities in.
Chapter 2
Riley knocked on the doorframe and waited. He knocked again and heard banging coming from the other end of the house. A muffled thud followed, and he sucked in a breath at the cursing. Forget an invitation. He headed down the hallway to the kitchen.
“Freaking dirty beggars. Why won’t you come off when I tell you?”
A shapely denim-clad butt perched in the air as an equally curvy—and rather feisty, by the sounds of her swearing—redhead bent at the waist doing her best to rip the doors off the dilapidated kitchen cabinets. She was a welcome sight; thank you, dating gods, for sending someone new his direction.
“Perhaps if you undo the screws properly, the doors will fall off in your hands.” His sarcasm reared its ugly head even though his hands itched to reach out and caress the curves so prominently on display.
She stood, swung around, and brushed wild, long, curly red hair from her face. Riley didn’t move a muscle while she took a step closer and looked him over.
“So, what do we have here then?”
Her Irish accent prickled his skin, making him super aware of the beauty in front of him: pale skin, the bridge of her nose and the curve of her high cheekbones peppered with freckles. Her gray eyes flecked with hazel were inquisitive and keen as she returned his look.
“Know your way around a demolition site, do you?”
He snorted. “Glad you agree. This old place should have been knocked down years ago. They could’ve built a new house or apartments to replace it. Hate to tell you, but this dump is past its use-by date.”
“Is that right, then?” She cocked her head to one side and a tumble of curls fell across one cheek. She flicked them back with a practiced toss of her head. “So, who would you be to judge the old lady so cruelly? She may be in tatters, but with a little bit of loving, a lick of paint on her petticoats…”
“Old lady? This heap of rubble?” He glanced around the room, the damp corner in the hallway roof only confirming his first impression.
The state of the kitchen alone made him shudder. There was nothing pretty about the place at all. The walls showed dark streaks from water damage, adding to the general mustiness. The grease caked on the old AGA stove was enough to make his stomach roil. Underneath the torn linoleum, he could see the old hardwood floors. They might be salvageable…just. That’s if they weren’t rotten. He might make an offer on them if she was tearing the place down.
“This place was sold for land value only. You got a pretty good deal, if you ask me.”
“I don’t recall asking you.” Her eyes flickered over his face, and the hair on the back of his neck prickled.
“If you want a price for a knockdown and rebuild, I’ll give you a quote. Here’s my contact info.” Riley reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, opening it to slide out a business card. He held it out to her.
She took it, looked at it before glancing back up. “So, R. P. Cooper. What’s your name?”
“Riley. And you are…?” He waited, his gaze on her lips, his body dying to hear that sexy voice again.
“Cassidy. My friends call me Sassie.” Her name was so smooth, the
