Almost Like Being in Love (34 page)

Carrying one of the cans of touch-up paint, Caron surveyed the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Last day or not, she still needed to ensure the walls were mar-free. At least she could paint in bare feet.

“Caron?” Kade's voice sounded through the house. “Are you here?”

“Of course I am.” She applied paint to a small spot on the wall. If she focused on a chore, she could maintain a professional distance with Kade. “Doing the nightly touch-up work.”

“Good. I wanted to talk with you.”

“Can we talk while I paint?”

“I don't see why not.”
He motioned for Caron to hand him the paintbrush. “Let me do that.”

Caron couldn't hold back a laugh, half turning away. “You're still in your suit and tie, Kade. There's no way I'm handing over this paintbrush. I'm almost done—”

“What if the boss says hand it over?”

“Oh, please. You're going to pull the boss line on me again? Besides, I just finished the last mark.”

“Fine. You win this time.” He nodded back toward the main area of the house. “I need to show you something.”

Caron exhaled a sigh. They'd managed to regain some sort of normalcy during the tour week, both of them too busy to stay in the past. “What?”

Kade waited while she deposited the can of paint, the paintbrush inside, on the kitchen island, and then pulled an envelope out of the inside of his coat pocket. “This.”

Caron rinsed her hands with soap and water, drying them with a length of paper towel. “And what is this?”

“Open it.” Kade's infectious grin almost slipped past her defenses. Almost.

“O-kay. You certainly are having fun with all of this.”

The envelope wasn't sealed, and she removed a check, her eyes widening at the amount. “Kade! This is a cashier's check for . . . for thirty-five thousand dollars!”

“I know.”

“And it's made out to Mitch.”

“I know.” Kade's smile widened, his eyes glinting.

“Is that all you can say?
I know?
” Caron threw her arms around him, erupting in a high-pitched yell. “Thirty-five thousand dollars! For Mitch.”

His arms came up around her, his laughter low and alluring. “Glad you're happy about this, hotshot. Just lower the decibels a bit.”

Their laughter blended together for a moment and then faded into the silence of the room. Caron stilled. She was in Kade's arms. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her breath hitching as her fingers almost strayed to the softness of his hair at the nape of his neck. Kade's eyes locked with hers. He waited, his arms locked around her waist.

With a slight pressure against his shoulders, Caron slipped from his embrace. “I . . . apologize. I got a bit excited when I saw the amount of the check.”

Kade remained still. And then he blinked, his Adam's apple working in his throat. “Understandable. It's an amazing amount of money. And you know what is even more amazing?”

Caron couldn't suppress the shiver that coursed through her body. “There's more?”

“Yes. Even with several offers on the house—good offers—Eddie agreed to sell it to Mitch at cost.”

Caron stepped back, clasping her hands in front of her. She needed to focus on being happy for Mitch and Lacey. Nothing else. “Have you told Mitch yet?”

“No, I want to do it right. There's still a bit of prep that I have to do.”

“What kind of prep work?”

“Just a little promise I made to him about when we found the right house—something involving a big red bow.”

“Then I need to give the check back to you—” She stopped. Where was the cashier's check? There. On the floor. Probably dropped while they were . . . distracted. “Oh, wow. I'm so sorry.”

She scrambled to pick it up before Kade could move, holding it out to him with a flourish. “There. Don't want to delay the surprise any longer than we have to.”

“You're part of this, too, you know. The letter you put
together and sent out worked wonders. Donations started pouring into the office. Miriam said she had a challenging time keeping up with all of the letters and checks.”

“I only started the process. So many people made it happen.”

“Miriam kept the letters people sent. She said she wanted Mitch and Lacey to read them.”

“You know you need to give her a raise, right?” Caron began rinsing the paintbrush again—anything to distract her from that too-close moment. “She's been a great help during the tour prep.”

“You're right, I do.”

“I'm so glad you stopped by to tell me this. What a wonderful end to the week.”

He put the crumpled check back into the envelope, sliding it into his pocket. “No worse for a little celebratory wear.”

“Good. I still can't believe it.” She rinsed and rerinsed the paintbrush. “I'll just finish up here and then head home.”

Kade stood next to her. “Caron, I want to—”

“It's been a long week, Kade.” Caron stiffened. “Let's just get through the tour, okay? Please.”

•  •  •

Kade wrapped the light cotton blanket around his bare shoulders, huddling on the edge of his couch. Despite the dull ache in his lower back, he refused to take a painkiller. Time to tough it out. In a couple of days, he'd be sleeping in his bed again.

His life would be back to normal.

But as he sat in the darkness of his living room, he couldn't escape the reality that he'd bungled those few moments he'd spent with Caron earlier that evening.

Kade had showed up after the end of the tour to tell her about the huge amount of money people had donated for
Mitch and Lacey. Show her the check. Share a few celebratory moments. And leave.

But then she'd jumped into his arms and his traitorous heart was wide open to her again. Defenseless. He wanted to hold her and never let her go. Forget about the guy waiting for her back in Florida. Kiss her until she remembered him and what they'd had.

With a muffled groan, Kade fought against the heated wave of desire that rose inside of him. Caron was leaving him again, but at least this time there was no surprise. She was staying true to her word. She'd done the job he asked of her and now she was going home.

Kade stretched out on the couch, resting his head on his pillow and staring at the ceiling.

He'd survived losing Caron Hollister once before. He'd do it again.

T
his was her last day in her office at Webster Select Realty and she'd never bothered to bring in a plant as Kade had suggested.

Caron rested her elbows on the desktop, surveying the bare walls. If things went as well as Kade expected following the success of the tour, he'd be hiring a full-time Realtor who would decorate this office. Hang some pictures on the walls. Stash favorite snacks in the bottom drawer. Have Miriam order business cards.

In just a few short hours, the Peak Tour of Homes would be over. Her job almost done. There'd be a few more phone calls—reminders about picking up loaner furniture and confirming the two U-Hauls she needed on Saturday, as well as connecting with the team of movers to load and unload things, and she'd be almost to the end of her responsibilities. Then she'd check in for her flight back home on Sunday.

Would there be any time for her and Kade to talk? To somehow say goodbye and end this standoff between them?

“Caron?” With a metallic buzz, Miriam's voice came through the intercom on her phone console.

“Yes, Miriam?”

“You've got a call on line one. A Russell Hollister.”

Caron's hand froze over the phone panel. Her father? Why was he calling her—and at work?

“Thank you, Miriam.”

The small red light beckoned, even as Caron hesitated taking the call. She hadn't seen or talked to her father in weeks. But his easy dismissal of her and his disapproval of her decision to work for Kade even temporarily had shadowed her, adding fuel to her determination to do well.

Why was she avoiding a conversation? What could her father do to her over the phone?

Or rather, what could he do that he hadn't already done?

Flexing her fingers to stop them from shaking, Caron straightened her shoulders. “Hello, this is Caron Hollister.”

“Caron. How are you?”

Okay. They'd start with the basics.

“I'm fine. Just wrapped up the tour.”

“I trust that went well?”

“Yes. Very well.”

“Glad to hear it. Knowing you, I'm not surprised.”

Even such an inconsequential compliment stalled Caron's response. “Th-thank you.”

“And Alex says you're heading home now.”

“Yes. I have a flight back on Sunday.”

“Good. That's why I'm calling. I tried reaching you on your cell, but you didn't answer.”

Caron hauled her handbag out from beneath her desk, digging through it to find her phone. Sure enough, there was a missed call from her father. She'd been so distracted she hadn't even heard her cell phone ring.

“Caron, are you there?”

“I'm sorry. Yes. I'm here.”

Her father's
tone transitioned from casual to businesslike. “Good. I was saying that I'd like you to come back and work for me again.”

Caron dropped her phone onto the top of her desk. What? She couldn't have heard her father correctly. How many times had she replayed her last day at work with her father? His don't-be-foolish-enough-to-think-there'll-be-a-job-waiting-for-you-here-when-you-realize-your-mistake response to her decision to quit.

“Caron? I assume you haven't found another job yet, have you?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. I was discussing plans for Hollister Realty Group with Nancy Miller. She asked me why I let such a valuable employee like you go.” Her father cleared his throat. “My explanation of the situation didn't deter her from insisting I call you. We'd like . . . I'd like you to be part of the Hollister team again.”

“But you said—”

“It'd be wise if we both forget what we said the day I announced the partnership with Nancy Miller, don't you think? Things can't be unsaid, but we both know there are some decisions that can be undone. Your office is empty. Shall I tell Shelby to expect to see you next week?”

Her father had done the unthinkable. He'd offered her a job with him again. Another chance.

“I—I'd love to come back to work. To be honest, I have some ideas—”

“Of course you do. We can talk about it next week.”

“Wonderful.”

“Have a good trip.”

“Thank you.” Caron bit back the words
Tell Mom I said hello
. Best to keep family and business separate. “Goodbye.”

She pressed her palms against her face, staring at the phone as if she expected it to ring again. When she picked up the receiver, someone would announce the whole conversation had been a joke. Or an exhaustion-fueled hallucination.

Caron resisted the urge to twirl around in her chair, swallowing back a just-contained jubilant yell. How had this happened? She'd hoped the last few weeks would provide space enough to ease the tension with her father. She'd never imagined that coming to Colorado would be the way God worked reconciliation between them.

•  •  •

At the click of the front door closing, Kade rolled his shoulders and loosened his tie. What a subdued ending to all the planning, all the anticipation, and all the hard work that had gone into the Peak Tour of Homes. Weeks of mental and physical labor were over. No more people streaming through the rooms. No more splitting shifts with Mitch, networking with potential clients while maintaining their regular workloads.

And no need to maintain a controlled distance with Caron. She'd done what he'd asked of her and staged the home with enthusiasm and creativity. It was no one else's fault but his own that he wanted more with her. That he still wanted the future he'd lost two years ago.

With a shake of his head, Kade dispersed the thoughts threatening to pull his emotions under. He may not have reason to celebrate, but Mitch did.

Kade found his friend in the living room, his wheelchair facing the glass doors that led out to the backyard.

“And that's that.” Kade clapped Mitch on the back.

“I never realized how much work was involved in a Tour of Homes.”

“Nonstop people. Nonstop PR.”

“Kingston's house got a lot of good press.”

“Eddie told me that one of the local news stations is coming through tomorrow.”

“That's great.” Mitch shifted his shoulders, positioning his hands on the sides of his wheelchair. “Well, I'm going to head home.”

“Mitch. There's just one more thing—”

“Can we table it until tomorrow? Lacey's making her world-famous grilled pizzas to celebrate the end of the tour—”

“World-famous, huh?”

“Yeah. As far as I'm concerned, they should be.”