auction.”
“What is it you want so badly?”
“My land.” He nodded toward the back of Grammy’s property. “It’s in foreclosure again. This might be my last chance to get it back.”
“Sure you want it?” There must’ve been so many painful memories there. June didn’t remember much about Luke’s mother, but according to rumors, she’d had an addiction to OxyContin and abusive men, and that was before she’d skipped town and broken Luke’s heart.
Luke nodded and joined her on the porch step, sitting so close his white T-shirt sleeve brushed her arm. If she tipped her head a teeny bit, she could rest against his shoulder. Then she could link their arms together and stare into the front yard the way she’d done on a few cool summer nights once upon a time. Instead, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her knees.
“I never told you about my granddaddy,” Luke said. He fidgeted with his own hands, pressing a thumb inside the opposite palm. “He took me fishing at our pond every Sunday since I was three. And each time he’d tell me that pond would be mine someday, and I’d take my own grandbabies fishing there. When I was eleven, and everyone knew my mama wasn’t…well…right in the head, my granddaddy said he was having the land subdivided and leaving ten acres around the pond to me. But he died before the paperwork went through, and everything passed to Mama.”
He reached over and took June’s hand. His skin was warm and rough—the large, powerful hands of a working man—and she fought the urge to lace their fingers together and hold on tight.
“She didn’t pay the taxes when she left town,” Luke continued, “so the county foreclosed. It’s been bought and sold twice since then, and the last owner lost it to back taxes.”
“But the house?”
“I’ll bulldoze it and build new. Something closer to the pond, so I can sit on the front porch with my coffee and look at the water.”
June hated to say it, but she knew from personal experience how long real estate could sit on the market. It had taken nine months and three price reductions before her condo sold. “Even if you finish the investment house in time, it might not sell.”
“Oh, it’ll sell. And fast.” He smoothed his thumb over each of her pink nails. “It’s right down the street from a brand-spanking-new elementary school, and I’ve already got four families interested—one of them even tried to buy the place before it’s repaired, but the bank wouldn’t go for it. So anyway, all I gotta do is finish it up, list it, and let the bidding begin.”
“I still want to help.”
He laughed in a long, rolling chortle that basically said forget about it . “Duly noted. Now, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she parroted. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
“How come you never came back after college?” He bumped her shoulder, smiling despite the heavy subject he’d dumped at her feet. “All those years, and nothing but a few Christmas cards? I know things were rough between you and your grandma, but I didn’t think they were that bad.”
“They weren’t,” she admitted. “Not at first.” He probably remembered that Gram had tried strong-arming her into living at home and attending the Bible College in the next county. Gram had gone so far as to cut her off financially when she’d applied to Texas State, but that hadn’t strained their relationship to the breaking point. June had never felt entitled to a free education. “But when I left and she couldn’t use money to control me anymore, she found other ways.” Like relentless, nagging phone calls, guilt-laden letters sprinkled with scary Bible verses, and worst of all, arranging for some Hellfire Baptists in June’s town to “check on” her periodically, which had felt a heck of a lot like stalking. “When I started bartending, she completely lost her shit—oops, I mean sugar—and gave me an ultimatum.”
“Which
“What is it you want so badly?”
“My land.” He nodded toward the back of Grammy’s property. “It’s in foreclosure again. This might be my last chance to get it back.”
“Sure you want it?” There must’ve been so many painful memories there. June didn’t remember much about Luke’s mother, but according to rumors, she’d had an addiction to OxyContin and abusive men, and that was before she’d skipped town and broken Luke’s heart.
Luke nodded and joined her on the porch step, sitting so close his white T-shirt sleeve brushed her arm. If she tipped her head a teeny bit, she could rest against his shoulder. Then she could link their arms together and stare into the front yard the way she’d done on a few cool summer nights once upon a time. Instead, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her knees.
“I never told you about my granddaddy,” Luke said. He fidgeted with his own hands, pressing a thumb inside the opposite palm. “He took me fishing at our pond every Sunday since I was three. And each time he’d tell me that pond would be mine someday, and I’d take my own grandbabies fishing there. When I was eleven, and everyone knew my mama wasn’t…well…right in the head, my granddaddy said he was having the land subdivided and leaving ten acres around the pond to me. But he died before the paperwork went through, and everything passed to Mama.”
He reached over and took June’s hand. His skin was warm and rough—the large, powerful hands of a working man—and she fought the urge to lace their fingers together and hold on tight.
“She didn’t pay the taxes when she left town,” Luke continued, “so the county foreclosed. It’s been bought and sold twice since then, and the last owner lost it to back taxes.”
“But the house?”
“I’ll bulldoze it and build new. Something closer to the pond, so I can sit on the front porch with my coffee and look at the water.”
June hated to say it, but she knew from personal experience how long real estate could sit on the market. It had taken nine months and three price reductions before her condo sold. “Even if you finish the investment house in time, it might not sell.”
“Oh, it’ll sell. And fast.” He smoothed his thumb over each of her pink nails. “It’s right down the street from a brand-spanking-new elementary school, and I’ve already got four families interested—one of them even tried to buy the place before it’s repaired, but the bank wouldn’t go for it. So anyway, all I gotta do is finish it up, list it, and let the bidding begin.”
“I still want to help.”
He laughed in a long, rolling chortle that basically said forget about it . “Duly noted. Now, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she parroted. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
“How come you never came back after college?” He bumped her shoulder, smiling despite the heavy subject he’d dumped at her feet. “All those years, and nothing but a few Christmas cards? I know things were rough between you and your grandma, but I didn’t think they were that bad.”
“They weren’t,” she admitted. “Not at first.” He probably remembered that Gram had tried strong-arming her into living at home and attending the Bible College in the next county. Gram had gone so far as to cut her off financially when she’d applied to Texas State, but that hadn’t strained their relationship to the breaking point. June had never felt entitled to a free education. “But when I left and she couldn’t use money to control me anymore, she found other ways.” Like relentless, nagging phone calls, guilt-laden letters sprinkled with scary Bible verses, and worst of all, arranging for some Hellfire Baptists in June’s town to “check on” her periodically, which had felt a heck of a lot like stalking. “When I started bartending, she completely lost her shit—oops, I mean sugar—and gave me an ultimatum.”
“Which
Similar Books
