to be picky.
He looked up at Kate, who was staring at the kitchen with open longing. Picky, indeed. “What do you think?”
“It’s not going to be my house, Seth,” she said in a quiet voice.
Something in her tone pulled at him. She sounded almost sad about that and he remembered what she’d said last week—she’d arranged for him to look at the least likely house first. This was the last house of the day, which meant she thought this was the best house they’d looked at yet.
“But you have a professional opinion, Kate. What do you think?” When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “I’d appreciate it if you’re honest.”
About this kitchen, about the houses they looked at, about whether or not dinner was going to be painfully awkward.
About him. He wanted her to be honest about what she wanted from him. Just the commission or something else?
When she still didn’t answer, Seth wished he could take it back. He never should’ve offered her a sexual relationship last week. He should’ve left it at flirting and making her smile, at making sure she was landing on her feet.
But then Jack had shown up and watching him hit on Kate had been more than Seth could take. She was his, not Jack’s and not Roger’s.
Except she wasn’t. She wasn’t a possession he could do with what he pleased. She was a complicated woman who had her own life to live.
“I’m just asking, Kate. Your opinion is important to me. Just tell me what you think. I’ve never done this before.”
“You’ve never bought a house before?”
“That, either.”
Her lips twisted to the side in a scowl that he now recognized as confusion. “You’ve never propositioned a pregnant older woman before?”
Finally, they were at the heart of the matter. “Oddly enough, no. There’s a first for everything, isn’t there?” He gave her a warm smile, hoping that would help.
He wasn’t sure it did. “But you’ve offered to have no-strings relationships with other women?”
He tried to process the line of thinking behind that question. How long had she been with Roger? Kate didn’t strike Seth as the kind of woman who’d had a lot of casual relationships. “I went to college.”
The scowl was back. But at least this time he’d earned it. He braced for her cutting rejoinder, but instead she squared her shoulders and said, “This is an amazing house,” in what he thought of as her real estate agent voice. “The master suite has that Jacuzzi bathtub and the office on the first floor has an amazing view. It sits on two acres so you don’t have any neighbors within immediate line of sight and although it only has a two-car garage, there’s more than enough room to expand or even build a separate workshop. The property is fenced so if you’re ever going to have a dog or children, there would be a huge backyard for them to play in.”
“It is a great house on paper,” he agreed. “But I can read. I want to know what you think of the house, Kate.”
“It was originally on the market nine months ago for five ninety-nine,” she went on, ignoring him. “But was overvalued and the market has been a little soft at this price range. The owners are probably desperate to sell, so we might be able to get them down to four-fifty.”
He might never figure this woman out, but he was going to have a hell of a good time trying. “Kate.” She swung around to look at him. “Do you like it?”
She blinked at him in confusion and he had to wonder, had anyone ever asked her what she liked before?
Then she exhaled heavily, looking defeated. He didn’t like that look on her. “Roger and I...” she started, her voice trailing off. Then she tried again. “We’d already purchased a house when this came on the market and besides, it was out of our price range. But I’ve been through it several times now and...”
Her hand stroked over the marble countertop affectionately as she walked to the sink, making his gut tighten. He wanted her to touch him like that, to hear that longing in her voice when she talked to him.
Great. Now he was jealous of a house. Bad enough he was jealous of Jack, but at least that was another guy. The house was just a house.
She leaned against the sink and stared out the window into that big fenced backyard and damned if she didn’t look like she belonged here. She loved this house and for some insane reason, he wanted to give it to her.
“The house just makes sense,” she went on, a note of defeat in her voice that he didn’t miss. “The way the rooms are arranged, the way everything works together—it’s one of the best houses I’ve ever been in. Nothing to compromise on, nothing I’d want to change. I’ve always been able to see myself living here. It’d be a wonderful place to raise a family.”
He understood what she was saying. She hadn’t been able to afford it even when she’d had Roger’s income to kick in and now? Even if the price could be negotiated down more, it’d still be beyond her. Instead, she was going to have to watch someone else buy her dream home.
Unless... “Question.” She turned, her eyebrows raised. “We haven’t started on the industrial properties for the museum. What happens if I buy a piece of property for, say, four million dollars? Will your commission be enough to buy this house?”
The color drained out of her face, which was not the reaction he’d been hoping to get. “Seth,” she said softly, sounding even sadder—which had not been his goal. “You can’t just snap your fingers and solve all of my problems. I got myself into my own mess and I am going to get myself out of it, too.” She swallowed, her eyes huge. “I don’t need you to save me.”
“That’s not what this is.” But even as he said it, he wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth. He didn’t think about it in terms of saving her. He thought about it in terms of helping. Of course, why he felt this compulsion to help her was another question he didn’t want to investigate too deeply right now.
“Then tell me what this is about. The truth, Seth.”
The truth? Hell. The truth was he was worried about her. He couldn’t stop fantasizing about her. He was glad she hadn’t married Roger. He knew how hard single mothers had it and he didn’t want it to be that hard for her. It shouldn’t be that hard for anyone, but especially not for her.
He didn’t say any of that. Instead, he closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his hands. “This,” he said, lowering his lips to hers, “is the truth.”
Then he kissed her.
Oh, God—Seth was kissing her. And somehow, it was the truth.
Because the truth was, she wanted him to kiss her and more than that, she wanted to kiss him back.
How had she thought that she could talk herself out of this need? God knew she’d tried. For a whole week, she’d diligently reasoned that it
