Read Online On the Move by Pamela Britton - Free Book Online

another word, and Vicky found herself feeling—all right, she could admit it—disappointed. She liked him flirting with her.
    And you, Vicky, have lost your mind.
    They arrived at their destination less than fifteen minutes later, although it was not where Vicky expected. She’d assumed they’d drive though North Carolina’s countryside, perhaps pull over and study some of the area’s more palatial mansions. Instead, they had driven into Cousin Larry’s Modular Home Sales and Repair.
    “You want a mobile home? ” she asked in shock, staring out the front windshield at row after row of manufactured buildings.
    “Actually,” he said, pulling into a parking lot that bordered the busy road they’d just pulled off of, “I do.”
    When he slipped out, Vicky wondered if she should just stay in the car. That’s what she wanted to do. But Brandon came around and opened her door for her, so Vicky was left with no choice but to slip into humid, North Carolina air.
    “This won’t take long,” he said, having to raise his voice over the sound of the cars that zoomed along the busy road.
    “Brandon,” someone boomed. Vicky turned and immediately realized this must be the “Cousin Larry” mentioned on the sign. “Glad you could make it,” he said, clapping Brandon on the back as if they were old friends.
    “Me, too,” Brandon said. “Larry, this is my agent, Vicky VanCleef.”
    “An agent, huh?” Larry said, his blue eyes sweeping her up and down. “I didn’t know agents could be so pretty.”
    “So what have you got for me?” Brandon said.
    “Well,” Larry said. “I think we have several designs that would suit your needs. Down at the end there’s a few three-bedroom models that would work well. You could put bunk beds in each room and sleep six at a time. Or double up and sleep twelve. That’s the siding I was talking about,” Larry said, pointing toward a logcabinlike home that loomed three feet off the ground. “Really looks like wood, doesn’t it?”
    “It does,” Brandon agreed.
    “Slap that puppy down on some of your acreage and it’ll look just like the label of a syrup bottle. Go on,” he said. “Look around. They’re all open. A few of them even have furniture. Let me knows which models you like and I’ll work up a price.”
    “Okay, thanks,” Brandon said. “I will.”
    “You really want a modular home?” Vicky said the moment they were out of earshot.
    “What if I do?” Brandon asked, amusement clearly tingeing his voice.
    “Nothing. I mean, there’s not a thing wrong with modular homes, but I would have thought someone with money would want to—you know—build something custom.”
    “Mr. Burke,” Larry called. “I almost forgot. I’ll give you however many homes you need at just above cost if you make sure Cousin Larry’s is mentioned in all your print advertisements and whatnot.”
    As many homes as he needed? What was Brandon building? A compound? Vicky wondered.
    “That’s great, Larry. I’m sure we can work with that.”
    “And I just wanted to say that I think it’s a real great idea. Children today, they need all the help they can get. A boys’ ranch is just what this area needs.”
    “Well, thanks, Larry. I think so, too.”
    Vicky stared up at Brandon in shock. He glanced down at her. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go check these things out.”
    He didn’t give her time to respond, and in all honesty, Vicky didn’t know what to say, anyway. She was left standing there, staring after him, her mind reeling in surprise.
    Brandon Burke wasn’t such a tough guy after all. In fact, she admitted with a growing sense of dismay, he might just have a heart.

    S HE LOOKED SHELL-SHOCKED , Brandon thought, trying hard not to laugh. “You coming?” he asked from the porch of the first home. He’d turned around only to realize she hadn’t followed.
    “Um, yeah,” she said with a little shake of her head.
    “These are nice, aren’t they?” he asked,