Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters
That he had what it took to be a Bolton.
Kate’s cheeks flushed as she dropped her gaze to the desktop. “No,” she said quickly. “I just want you to go into this with realistic expectations.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “It means we’ll have to work together. A lot,” she emphasized, as if the idea of spending more time with her was a deal breaker instead of one of the main reasons he was here in the first place.
Seth fought the urge to reach across her desk and cup her cheek in his hand. “Kate,” he said in all seriousness, “why do you think I looked you up?”
Kate was always polished and professional when she showed houses. Nobody wanted a real estate agent who was slovenly. That was just a fact. She was careful with her hair and makeup and put forth her best appearance.
But for this afternoon with Seth? She had gone above and beyond her normal preparations. She hadn’t just carefully applied mascara—she’d primed and preened, showered and shaved until she was as glamorous as she could possibly be on her budget. If she’d had the cash, she would have gotten her hair blown out. As it was, she’d used hot rollers to tease her hair into a delicate half twist that she’d seen on Pinterest. It’d taken her a good half hour, which was a solid twenty-five minutes longer than she normally spent on her hair.
She was also thankful her best pair of trousers had buttoned. True, that button was straining as she drove her car toward the first house on the schedule for the day. If she were alone in the car, she’d undo the button and let her stomach relax.
But she wasn’t alone. Seth Bolton was in her passenger seat, filling the space with his raw masculinity and leather jacket, tapping his fingers on his jeans. They were a dark-wash denim today, not nearly as scuffed as the black ones he’d worn the last time she’d seen him. And instead of a distressed T-shirt, he had on a gray flannel shirt. She’d never thought of gray flannel as a particularly attractive fabric before, but on him?
Yup. Keeping her button fastened and her baby bump sucked in.
Every day it seemed her clothing shrank just that much more. And for a woman who’d maintained a steady weight since she’d lost the freshman fifteen during her sophomore year, to suddenly be faced with a wardrobe that might not fit today and most definitely wouldn’t fit tomorrow was more than a little daunting. Not to mention that she had to buy replacement clothes on a supertight budget.
She could tell by the way Seth fidgeted that he wasn’t used to being a passenger but despite that, he hadn’t changed the radio station or adjusted the mirrors or any of the other things Roger had always done every time she’d had to drive him home after he’d had too much to drink.
After all, Seth had arrived at Zanger Realty this morning on a motorcycle that didn’t look familiar. Not that she remembered much about her wedding day fiasco, but she was certain that the bike hadn’t been candy-apple red.
She’d never been into bikers before, but looking at that beautiful machine this morning as Seth straddled it, his hair tousled from the wind, those dimples in full force...
She shivered and pushed those thoughts aside. She really needed Seth to buy a house. Even if his big ideas about the museum of motorcycles fell through, as long as he bought a nice house with a big piece of land attached, it’d be enough. But if there was something more...
She was being absolutely ridiculous as she turned onto the street of the first house. “We’ve got thirteen houses today,” she warned him.
“Is that a lot? It seems like a lot,” he said in a thoughtful voice before he turned that winning smile on her.
It was a good thing she was sitting because that smile was dangerous to her balance. “I’ve done more in a day. I don’t anticipate you’ll love them all.”
“You mean, we might have to do this again sometime?”
Was she imagining things or did he sound happy about that prospect? “If you don’t find something you like, we might.”
“That would be too bad, wouldn’t it?”
He was just a Good Samaritan, she reminded herself. A hot, kind, wealthy Good Samaritan. He’d probably been a Boy Scout or something and this house-hunting expedition was the adult equivalent of helping an old lady across the street.
He’d comforted her on the day of her not-wedding. He’d made sure that she was safe and secure in a hotel that night. He hadn’t taken advantage of her confusion or vulnerability.
Seth Bolton was a hell of a good guy. Maybe the best she’d ever known.
“Saturdays are usually free for me—after about eleven,” he added. “We could have a standing date.”
Oh, Lord—how was she supposed to react to that? “We might have to do that,” she said, keeping her voice carefully professional. “Even if you love a house today, there are still the commercial properties to deal with.”
A standing date didn’t mean anything. Hell, it wasn’t even a date. For all she knew, he always looked at women with that intensity. He probably wasn’t flirting on purpose and besides—why would he flirt with her? She was pregnant and had not demonstrated the best of judgment. He might not hold abandoning Roger against her, but he’d be well within his rights to blame her for settling on Roger in the first place. Frankly, who could blame him?
So there wasn’t anything here. He was using her as his real estate agent out of the kindness of his heart. It was a generous thing to do, but that was it.
She absolutely should not be thinking about Seth and dating in the same breath. No dating. He was a client. That was final.
How many times would she have to repeat that before she believed it?
“This property,” she said as she pulled up in front of the split-level ranch in the Rapid Valley neighborhood because she was a professional and would not ask if his Saturdays were free because he was single, by God, “has a three-car garage.” It was the only redeeming feature of the property, but she wasn’t going to say that out loud. It was an ugly house. The shrubs were overgrown, the paint was peeling—absolutely no curb appeal, and she could tell from the pictures that the inside was in no better shape.
If it were up to her, it would be a complete teardown. But it wasn’t. All she could do was sell the positives of any home. She almost hadn’t put this house on the list, but sometimes seeing a house a client definitely didn’t want helped clarify what they did, and since Seth had been vague about what he wanted—beyond no neighbors—she had to work from the process of elimination.
“So there would be plenty of room for a workshop and multiple motorcycles. Or a car, assuming you have one?”
“I own a car.” He chuckled. “And a truck. Don’t forget that I grew up in Rapid City. We have this thing called winter—maybe you’ve heard of it?”
She shot him a look. “I’m familiar with the concept.”
Oh, there were those dimples again. She really needed to stop making him smile. “I also have three personal motorcycles, but I’ve been known to test out prototypes. It’d be great to have space for all of them.”
In the week and a half since Seth Bolton had walked into Zanger Realty, Kate’s dreams had gotten a lot more vivid. It wasn’t like she hadn’t dreamed of him before—she had.
Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones—that was her answer to every strange new change in her mind and body. Because her dreams now weren’t just nonsensical images all jumbled together. Her dreams of Seth stripping her down—again—and this time instead of shaking her hand and riding off into the night, he laid her out on a bed and spent the evening feasting on her body.
She always woke up unsatisfied, with an edge of longing