“We really want to break ground by spring.” His voice had dropped and his eyes didn’t stop taking in the landscape.

“Removing the agricultural overlay in the housing development you’re putting up is doable. Or you can leave it and put it in the HOA that barnyard animals are against the rules. Which brings us to the next concern. The amount of homes you’re proposing.” She stopped walking and looked at the space around them. “In the past ten, fifteen years, houses have sprung up like weeds. Each subdivision crammed in closer to the next. As people inch out in areas like this, they’re looking for more space.”

“More space means less profit.”

“I know.” She lifted a hand in the air. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about this community, it’s that change comes slow. Maybe not as slow as mid-Texas, but slower than, say, the valley. Dividing these lots up will have to go before the city council.”

“Our team didn’t think that was going to stop anything.”

“It won’t stop. But if you don’t want to get tied up, and that’s why you wanted this meeting today, you come in with a compromise plan if in fact there is pushback on lot size. Ask for the world, but be prepared to scale it back. Unless you want to be attending city council meetings for the next two years.”

Dameon stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket and lifted his face to the sky. “We don’t want that either.” The first droplets of rain started to fall. “I have a set of plans in the truck I’d like you to take a look at,” he said.

“Okay.”

They picked up their pace as they walked to the cars.

It didn’t take long for Grace’s hair to turn to wet curls.

He grabbed the plans out of the truck and fiddled with a set of keys as he attempted to find the right one for the bolted chain-link fence.

“Let me hold that,” she said, taking the tube with the plans from under his arm.

By the fourth key, the rain was taking a steady beat.

Grace pulled up her collar to try and keep dry.

Finally, Dameon sprung the lock free, and the two of them half jogged to the front porch of the house.

She shook off the water and waited while Dameon repeated the process to find the correct key for the front door.

Once inside, they both did their best impression of a shaking dog.

Grace wasn’t sure who laughed first, him or her.

Dameon stopped laughing and stared at her. The kind of look that was going to be followed by something that shouldn’t be said, or happen.

She turned around and took in the space. Seventies construction with low popcorn ceilings and orangeish carpet that should have been put out of its misery twenty years ago. Someone had left a couch in the middle of the room that reminded her of Grandma Rose’s motif. Brown flowers and dark green accents. “This is perfectly awful,” Grace said, looking at the sofa.

“My mother would love it,” Dameon said from behind her.

“I thought the same thing about my grandmother.”

The room opened to a kitchen that had a large enough counter to spread out the plans. “This will work.” Grace opened the canister and removed Dameon’s drawings.

He walked to the window and pulled open the blinds to let some light in the room. “I should have kept the power on,” he said.

“And encourage squatters?”

He moved to the sink and turned the faucet. Nothing happened. “This is as good a space as any to house the construction office in the first phase.” As he spoke, he opened cabinets and walked through the room.

“Is this the first time you’ve been here?”

“Yup.” He walked down the narrow hall.

Grace found herself following him. “How does anyone do that?”

“Do what?”

“Buy a house without seeing it?” She knew it happened. But she’d never felt at liberty to ask someone like Dameon how they did it.

“We bought the land. The house is incidental.” He looked above his head and then opened a closet door in the empty room. “And most of the time, they’re not in this good of shape.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. This was a repo. The owners defaulted on the loan. It went to the bank. Banks hate owning real estate. Most never recouped after the housing market crashed.”

“So you came in and bought it sight unseen.”

“The land value out here is cheap. Once we’re done with it, it will be worth money again. I know the existing neighbors are going to voice opposition, but chances are my PR department will tell them the facts about how we’re going to add value to their homes.” He skirted past her in the narrow hall and opened another door. “Ohhh,” he said, looking inside.

“What?” Grace ducked her head through the doorway. A king-size bed sat in the middle of the room. There wasn’t any bedding covering the stain-filled mattress. She turned her nose.

“Do you ever look at a bed in an old house and wonder what stories it can tell you?”

She realized she was standing entirely too close to the man when she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. “No,” she said. “I look at fireplaces and front windows and wonder how many Christmas trees had been put up and family stories were exaggerated once the adults reached the bottom of the wine bottle.” She stepped back.

“I like that much better than my thoughts.”

Grace walked back into the kitchen and shrugged off her coat. She wasn’t warm, but the weight of it dripping from the rain was making her colder.

Dameon’s coat followed hers, and they stood next to each other looking at the plans.

Grace attempted to ignore the fact his shoulder kept brushing hers. Did everything she could to not pull in the scent of rain and masculinity that surrounded him.

She forced her eyes to look at the plans and not the man at her side. Swallowing hard, she realized neither of them had spoken in several seconds.

Dameon’s hand scooted closer to hers on the plans, and that’s when her brain engaged.

“I’ve seen these before,” she told him without looking up.

She pointed out her concerns and put just enough space between them that she didn’t feel the heat of his body.

Time slipped by as she sketched in what she knew he was going to need, at least at this stage. She spent more time poring over the plans than she normally did. It helped that Dameon seemed to be on top of the city’s expectations. It quickly became obvious that he didn’t sit behind a desk all day long.

Grace wrote side notes on his plans with check boxes that needed to happen first.

“I think you have enough to keep you busy until after the holidays,” she told him as she stepped back.

Outside, the skies had turned nearly black. And with the sun dipping low as late afternoon approached, the house was getting dark.

Dameon rolled up the plans, and she handed him the tube to put them in.

“I really appreciate your help.”

She reached for her coat. “It is my job.”

He took the coat from her hand and opened it for her to step into. The gesture was seamless for him by the looks of it. For Grace, it wasn’t something she was accustomed to.

She fumbled her way into the coat and felt his hands linger on her shoulders.