‌ me Leave Lana in the kitchen while I accompany the appraiser. When I return, I notice that she hasn’t moved from her spot by the window overlooking the lake. Her fingers tap against the counter in time with her humming. I take the opportunity to embrace it without being judged for it. She looks like a gift from heaven, with the sun’s golden glow surrounding her like a halo, highlighting the warm tones of her hair and the edges of her curves. ‌

Those fucking curves.

Wool is soft in all the right places. Her love of baking and all things culinary has turned her body into a work of art, with hips to grab and a butt to adore.

Don’t think about his butt.

Too late. My eyes fall, burning a hole in her leggings.

“As much as my butt appreciates the attention, I’d like to get on with my day. I have a lot of work to grade before tomorrow.

My mouth goes dry along with any sort of rebuttal as my gaze moves from Lana’s legs to her face. Her eyebrow raises. She was always direct, a fact I appreciated until now.

How long have you been watching me look at you?

Given your luck lately, maybe a whole minute. There’s a reason my brothers made fun of me for being Space Cadet Cal. I have

a propensity to fall asleep and forget where I am until someone brings me back to reality, usually by calling me.

I clear my throat, forcing some oxygen into my airways. “We’re going to sell this house in three months for a million dollars, whether you like it or not.”

She approaches, invading my space. “Oh why? Because you said so?”

“ Because that is the only option. The sooner you accept it, the easier this process will be.”

“Or you could hire a lawyer.” She bats her eyelashes.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Shit. “Except you’re not going to do that.” Her mockery comes off as condescending as the lift of her chin. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Too bad. I remember there was a time when you were begging for them. My thumb traces the bottom of her lip, earning me a sweet inhale from her.

He leans into my touch before shaking his head and shoving me in the chest. “You’re just trying to distract me.”

“Of what? Stab me in the back?”

His eyes shine . “Only cowards go behind the back.”

If I didn’t already know he was a little unhinged, my cock would get hard from the way he threatens me with a vicious smile that would motivate me to get my head checked out.

I fix her in place with my gaze. “You want to put the house on the market for more money than it’s worth so no one buys it, right?”

“What? Why would I want to do that?” The gleam in his eyes and the small pout on his lips kill his attempt at feigning innocence.

“It beats me. I’m not sure why you’re trying so hard to save this place. “It’s a complete dump.”

She steps back. Whatever joy was in her eyes dies, replaced by a burning gaze and ultimate goal.

Shit.

His nostrils flare. “You may see this place as a dump, but I see it as a home, my home, and there is no way I am leaving it without a fight. “Then you better lawyer up and take me to court, you moron.” She runs out of the kitchen, leaving me wondering how our conversation went wrong.

Shit.

I place one of my grandfather’s Victorian-era revolvers in a box marked for the Smithsonian. It’s the third gun I found in the attic

Forgotten of God. The more time I spend here, the more I wonder who my grandfather really was.

Maybe Lana was right when she said she didn’t know my grandfather as well as she thought.

I stick to her side of the attic and avoid the corner that houses all my old belongings and hockey memorabilia since I told Lana I wouldn’t get drunk in here again. In addition to taking a few breaks at the guest house so I can have a few sips of vodka without going back on my word, I keep my promise not to drink in the house.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket, so I take it out and take a seat on one of my grandfather’s trunks. I texted Iris an hour ago, only she didn’t respond until now. She’s slowly getting busier, which makes it harder for us to talk as often as we used to before she got married.

Iris

Iris overcomes the texts and calls me instead.

“What’s going on?” she asks. A car horn honks in the background, causing her dog, Ollie, to bark.

“Lana threatened to get a lawyer, so either I agree to sell the house for three million or I’m screwed.”

Silence.

“Are you there?” I check my phone for a dropped call.

She coughs. “Yeah, I’m just trying to understand that based on the photos you sent me of the place. The view may be nice, but it is not that nice .” The bones are decent.

“That’s exactly what Declan said about our new house right before he brought a wrecking ball to the site.”

“Only because I was impatient and didn’t feel like dealing with old construction problems.”

Iris yells at Ollie to stop chasing squirrels before remembering that I’m on the line. “Why does Alana want to sell it for that price?”

A small smile breaks my annoyance. “Because he believes that if he sets the price too high, no one will buy it.” I explain the rest of Lana’s plan, including how she wants to remodel the property to justify a high list price.

Iris whistles. “Damn. I respect your efforts.” “Whose side are you on?”

She chuckles softly. She is always yours, although I have to give it to her. She must really want that house if she’s willing to fight so hard with you for it.

“I wish I could tell you about the stupid will.” I rub my temple. “Except you can’t, so we need a better plan.”

“Like what?”

She clears her throat. “If she wants to sell it for a higher price, then she does it.”

“Really?”

Iris laughs. “Just think about it. What’s the worst that can happen if you remodel the house?”

“Based on watching you and Declan arguing for hours about paint samples and tile samples, a lot.” The two have thought about every detail, down to what color the grout should be.

“It’s actually kind of funny, although if he did things his way the whole house would be black.”

I’m not looking for fun. I want easy. Simple. sure _ Because the longer I stay at Wisteria Lake, the more I risk remembering everything I left behind.

The life I could have had. The only woman I have ever loved.

I threw the future in the trash because of an addiction.

If I want to get out of this town unscathed, then I need to sell the house sooner rather than later.

Before making a decision on the price of the house, I want to be well informed about the other houses in the area. I spend the next two days researching every property surrounding the lake that has sold in the last five years. Of those seventy homes put on the market, ten were purchased for more than three million dollars. The other sixty properties were purchased for half the price, which was still more than the quote we received from the appraiser.

Basically, my chance of striking gold at Lana’s list price will come down to two things: an incredible renovation job and enough money to make it happen within three months.

I call the only construction company in all of Wisteria Lake, only to be fired once I give them my full name. They weren’t even willing to add me to their waiting list, which is apparently five years long.

Did you expect anything less from a town full of people who hate you?

The next town isn’t much better. Although they have a shorter waiting list, the six-month wait time cannot be changed regardless of how much money I am willing to pay.

Frustrated and about to tear my hair out, I decide to take a walk to clear my head. I pass the main house on my way to the road. He

driveway is empty, so Lana must still be at work.

I stay on the sidewalk during my walk. Each house is separated by acres, with their own private roads leading to their homes. The houses you used to recognize as a child are gone, replaced by mega-modern mansions on huge lots overlooking the sparkling lake.

With every step I take, the truth becomes more obvious. While my grandfather’s property remained the same, most of the houses were purchased and completely rebuilt.

Lana might have been right when she mentioned the remodel.

Fifteen minutes into my walk, I come across a construction site that is completely blocked from the public by a perimeter fence. Pinned to the fence is a large sign promoting Lopez Luxury.

A quick Google search tells me that they are a fairly new company, less than ten years old, and based in Michigan.

Just what I need.

I dial the number and ask to speak to someone who can help me do a renewal in three months. This time, when I give my full name, they transfer me directly to Julián López, the head of the company, without asking questions.

“Mr. Kane. The low rumble of Mr. Lopez’s voice fills my ear. “Sir. Lopez.”

“Please call me Julian. So, I heard that he needs renovation work done in three months.”

“Can you help me?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “It depends on whether you’re willing to do the same.”

Of course, there is a catch. “What do you want?”

“Having my company chosen for a Kane Company project.” “Are you looking to expand your services into the hospitality industry?”

“Something like that.” His deep laugh lacks any kind of warmth, as does his personality.

Brady’s attorney said my brothers couldn’t be involved in the sale of the house, but he never mentioned anything about offering anyone a job at the company in exchange for services.

Look at yourself finding loopholes.

I know my brothers will find Mr. Lopez something to do, no matter how small. “If your team can remodel my house in three months, then…” “Done. My assistant will contact you to schedule a meeting with one of my top contractors.”

The line goes dead without him bothering to say goodbye. Mr. Lopez reminds me of Declan, with the high-pitched tone and no-nonsense attitude of him.

Another piece of my plan slides into place, slowly building my confidence. Declan might think I’m good at failing, but I plan to prove him and everyone who doubted me wrong.