Chapter 4

Norah

This has been the most chaotic twenty-four hours of my life.

But I'm here. I got through it.

I'm standing in a gorgeous four-million-dollar mansion, waiting for my client to arrive.

The listing agent has the flu so he threw me the keys out of his window and told me to take care of it myself. After disinfecting the keys with some old hand sanitizer in my beat-up car, I drove to the mansion, let myself in, and looked around in amazement.

This place is incredible. The white foyer is fit for a queen with the giant double staircase that leads to the mezzanine on the second floor. At the top of the stairs is a stunning white statue of a woman holding a baby—or from this angle it kind of looks like a giraffe, I don't know, it's a bit abstract—and there's a fountain behind it that sprays water up, making one hell of an impression when you walk in. Everything is white and I thought I was walking into heaven for a second when I first opened the doors.

It took me a good forty-five minutes to explore the whole house. This place has everything—a theatre room, a full gym, two kitchens, more bedrooms and bathrooms than I can count, and a giant inground swimming pool in the backyard with a spectacular rock waterfall. It's stunning.

I check the time and fix my hair in the mirror in the hallway. I look good, I think. Lauren lent me a gray pantsuit and I had a white blouse that I put on.

I take a strand of brown hair and smell it, hoping it doesn't smell like beer. A keg exploded on me last night when I was changing it. My hair smells pretty good now since I washed it twice. More like my coconut shampoo than Budweiser.

I spot a door behind me that I haven't opened yet. What's that?

Three minutes until my client is scheduled to arrive. I have to do this fast.

I hurry over to the door and open it. I gasp when I see inside. It's a large room with a giant window and a bright colorful parrot perched on a tropical tree.

This parrot has a whole room? A room bigger than my apartment?

The buzzer to the front gate goes off and I run to the entrance to buzz in this Austin Gambill guy.

"Come on in," I say in a cheery voice as I hit the button.

Of course I leave the door open and the parrot flies out.

"No!" I shout as she swoops through the foyer and lands on the white statue. She's perched on the woman's (or the giraffe's) shoulder.

"Shoo!" I say as I run up the stairs and try to wave her off. "Back in your room. Please!"

She's too high up to reach and she doesn't seem to care what I have to say.

"Actually…" It looks kind of cool. The foyer is all white and this tropical bird is giving it a pop of color. It would make the first impression even cooler.

I'll push open the double doors with a big smile on my face and say hello all professional-like. With the fountain and the bird and the double staircase behind me—this guy would be crazy not to buy this house.

I practice it quickly a few times as an expensive-looking black car drives up to the roundabout driveway and parks.

"Okay," I say with my heart pumping. "Okay. You can do this, Norah. You have an ace up your sleeve, remember?"

I don't really believe in all that, but I'm grasping at anything to get through this stressful moment.

I hear the car door close and then I grab the door handle as he makes his way up the stairs. I'm too nervous to look.

He knocks on the door and I dramatically pull the double doors open for the grand reveal.

"Hello—oh!" I say, jerking my head back when I see him. He's gorgeous.

He's taller than me with a muscular—"Ahh!"

I scream as the damn parrot swoops over my head, heading straight for freedom.

Austin leaps up and catches the bird's legs in his hand.

The parrot is not happy, but she's not hurt either, as Austin quickly cradles her body and brings her inside. I slam the doors closed, breathing heavily and feeling a little panicky as I turn around. My hair is already a mess. It might not smell like beer, but it's not looking very professional either.

"Is this your business partner?" Austin says with a smile as he releases the bird. It flies back onto the statue and perches there, waiting for its next opportunity to escape and make me look like a fool.

"I think she owns the place," I say as I smooth out my hair, take a deep breath, and turn to him. "At least, she acts like she does."

Austin's chuckle quickly fades when our eyes meet.

Whoa.

The air crackles with energy as we stare at each other for a long heated moment. My heart pounds furiously in my chest. Goosebumps tingle all over my skin. My nipples harden behind my bra.

I can't look away.

This man is ravishing.

He's wearing blue jeans, a casual brown sports coat, and a simple gray T-shirt underneath, but it's looking anything but simple curved to the shape of his muscles.

His shoulders are big and broad, and he's tall too.

But it's his brown eyes and gorgeous face that really get to me.

I feel my cheeks blushing the longer we stare at each other. Heat is blooming inside of me and when I squeeze my thighs together, I feel wetness.

Say something. Don't just stand here!

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Gambill," I say as I step forward and reach out my hand for a handshake.

He swallows hard as he looks at my hand and then steps forward and takes it. His hand is so large that it practically swallows mine.

I'm very aware of my tingling skin as we shake and then let go.

Now, I'm suddenly very aware that we're alone in this big house that has an excessive amount of beds.

Our eyes keep connecting and it's making my blush deepen.

I had a whole intro planned, explaining the house in detail, but now I can't remember any of it. I'm flustered with his sexy brown eyes on me. They're so intense. I keep fidgeting and licking my lips for some reason.

I'm trying to be professional, but this guy is seriously hot. It's making me dizzy. My brain feels like it's working at thirty percent. Why couldn't I have had an old senior citizen couple for my first client?

"Um," I say, feeling flustered as he looks at me. I don't think he's taken a breath since we first made eye contact. "What brings you to San Antonio?"

"Work," he says with a deep sensual voice that sounds like silk. "I just moved here."

"Oh, cool. I mean, that's… wonderful."

Damn it. Stop saying cool. It's not professional.

"Is your girlfriend or wife going to be joining us?"

I don't know why that's the first thing I ask, but I have to know if this perfect masculine specimen is taken.

"No," he says with those sexy lips curling up into a grin. "I'm single. You?"

"Single," I say with a nervous laugh. Why would he need to know that?

"Well, I have two houses in Cedar Hills for us to visit today and one tomorrow," I say, trying to slip back into professional mode. "Oh, before I start, can I ask how you found out about my services?"

"I found your card in the back of a taxi," he says. "It was between the couch cushions."

"Oh. Classy."

He laughs. "You haven't seen it yet."

My eyes dart to his muscular chest as he opens his jacket and reaches into the inside pocket. He pulls out my card and shows it to me.

What the hell?! Who did that?!

Someone drew a moustache and big eyebrows on my face!

I shake my head as I look back up at him. "This was before my makeover."

He laughs and smiles at me. "This is definitely an improvement."

There go my cheeks blushing again.

"Well, thanks for calling even though I looked like a Muppet."

"I'm glad I did."

I'm glad he did too.

"So," I say, taking a deep breath. "Would you like to get started on the house tour?"

He nods. I realize that he's barely even looked at the house. This man hasn't taken his eyes off me.

"This is the grand foyer," I say, waving my arm dramatically. "A beautiful statue with—oh!"

The dumb parrot did her business all down the front of it.

"We'll get that cleaned up for you," I say with a nervous laugh.

"Is that a giraffe?" Austin asks as he looks at it funny.

"Unclear," I say as I move along to the kitchen. I know he's going to fall in love with it. How could you not? It's spectacular.

"Wow," he says as he walks in and looks around. "I think my parents' whole house could fit in here."

"I know, right?" I say with a chuckle, wondering how he can afford a place like this if he didn't inherit it. Is he one of those crypto millionaires or something? He's about my age—around twenty-four—and I had to save three months to buy a second-hand couch. How the hell is he affording all this?

"Where are you from?" I ask. I'm so curious about him. I want to know everything. I want to know his life story.

"Michigan," he says. "It's very different from here."

"I bet." I can picture him hiking through the mountains or kayaking down a river. He'd park his kayak on the river bank, step into the water, and peel off his shirt. His hard stomach would be all flexed and he'd?—

"What about you? Where are you from?"

"Me?" I say, getting yanked out of my daydream. "Oh. I'm from here. Well, not here here. Not Cedar Hills. This place is like crazy expensive, but I'm from San Antonio. Born and raised."

What is wrong with me?

It's like being in such close proximity to this man is making me feel drunk.

I turn, take a deep breath, roll my eyes at myself, and try again.

I'm smiling when I turn back around. "How do you like the kitchen?"

"How do you like the kitchen?"

"Me?" I say, wondering why my opinion would matter at all. "I think it's beautiful."

He looks around at it and nods.

This kitchen is crazy. The granite island is almost the size of a Queen-sized bed. There are so many cupboards and drawers that you could have like six cupboards just dedicated to your Christmas stuff. You wouldn't have to lug the heavy plates up and down to the basement and try to find room under the stairs.

The kitchen opens up into the huge family room and we head into there next.

"Perfect for parties," I say with a wave of my arm, "for get-togethers, game nights, or for a night in with a movie. Imagine curling up in front of this fireplace with someone special and talking all night long."

He takes a deep breath and rubs his chin as he looks at the fireplace and then looks at me. I wonder what lucky-ass girl would be in his arms all night.

I show him the rest of the bottom floor, the endless amount of bathrooms, the living room, the giant dining room, the tucked-away office, and the party room that leads out into the backyard.

I'm used to wearing flats (or running shoes when my boss isn't working) at the pub, so these heels are starting to kill my feet. I toughen it out though, and keep going.

I grin as I put my hand on the stunning staircase railing. "Would you like to see what I have hidden up top?"

Oh god, did that sound dirty?

"I'd like to see everything," he answers with a bit of huskiness in his tone.

I swallow hard and then head up the stairs.

He follows behind me and I can't help but wonder if he's staring at my ass. I give my hips a bit of a sway with each step just in case he is.

"These are custom-made railings," I say as I present them with a wave of my hand. "Hand carved by a master carver."

I don't know if that's true, but it's gotta be, right? It's not like you can buy a railing like this at Home Depot.

He just nods and follows me up to the second floor.

"These are the bedrooms," I say as I step into the first one. It looks like a twelve-year-old boy's room with all of the hockey crap all over the place. Every inch of the walls are plastered with Hyenas posters.

"Obviously you can rip all of these ugly posters off," I say with a chuckle.

He laughs to himself. "Are you a hockey fan?"

"Oh, god no," I say with a laugh. "Sometimes we have it on the TV at the bar where I work—I mean, where I frequent with a… clients. But no, I don't watch it. It's not my thing."

Austin walks into the room and looks around at the posters. He points to a big one and smiles. "He's kind of good-looking."

My body slumps with a disappointed sigh. Damn it. He's gay.

I should have known that perfect, available men like him don't exist without a catch.

He's still smiling as he walks back into the hallway.

I have a sad smile on my face that I'm trying to make happy as he walks past me.

Might as well see what kind of guy he's into.

I step up to the wall and look at the poster.

Holy. Shit.

It's him.

Those piercing brown eyes are staring back at me.

His name is even written on top.

Austin Gambill #9.

It finally clicks. I thought that name sounded familiar. I must have overheard some people at the bar mention it while the hockey game was on.

He's the rookie!

Now my heart is really pounding as I plaster on a smile, head for the hallway, and get back to work.