“Jerrod is buying the place,” Shirley added with another of her big, salesperson smiles.
“Why? It’s a wreck.” Shirley’s smile slid away beneath Johnna’s pronouncement. “The porch is sagging, one of the windows is broken. It needs painting.”
“All cosmetic,” Shirley replied stiffly, and shot Johnna a glare.
Johnna ignored her. “Jerrod, surely you can find a place that doesn’t need so much work.” Someplace not on my street, someplace on the other side of town, she wanted to scream.
“I like this house,” Jerrod replied, his gaze unreadable as it lingered on her. “Besides, Shirley is right. It’s structurally sound. It just needs a little tender, loving care. In fact, Shirley tells me your brother does a lot of carpentry work.”
“I’m sure Luke is far too busy to take on another project,” Johnna replied. She knew she sounded churlish and petulant, and she hated herself for it. But he was stirring old emotions, emotions she found more and more difficult to shove away.
“My father needs a project and this place will be just the thing for him,” Jerrod said.
“We’re on the way to my office to sign the paperwork,” Shirley added coolly, obviously irritated by Johnna’s attempt to interfere in a sale.
“I promise you I’ll be a good neighbor,” Jerrod said, a knowing smile curving his lips.
“I’m sure you will be.” Johnna felt the heat of a blush warm her face and wondered how transparent she had been.
“How was church this morning?” she asked grudgingly.
“Wonderful. The good reverend delivered a beautifully moving goodbye sermon. Unfortunately there was only a handful of people there.”
“I’m sure you’ll turn that around in no time,” she said, then added, “And I hope you and your father will be very happy here.” She realized she was fighting a losing battle with the house and refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing any more of her protests.
Before anyone could say anything else, she spun on her heel and strode back to her house.
Once inside, she dropped her briefcase by the front door, then stood at the front window and stared outside. She watched as Jerrod took the For Sale sign down and walked it over to lean it against the side of the garage.
When he’d touched her face the night before, she’d wanted to fall into his arms, feel the heat of his mouth, allow him to take whatever he wanted or needed from her. And that had frightened her.
At eighteen she had been positively besotted with Jerrod McCain. She’d given him power over her mind, her body and her heart. And he had thrown it all away, leaving her in a state of devastation she’d never fully recovered from and never again wanted to experience.
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