All I Ask(52)

His daughter is still reeling from her mother’s death. We don’t know each other as adults, well, not really. I’m not in a financial or emotional state for a relationship, and our kids hate each other. It’s not…it’s just not the right time for us.

I’d do well to remember that and shut this down.

“You should be. You should be joking about this instead of looking at my mouth like that.” I glance out the window, avoiding all eye contact, as we make a right onto Sycamore Street.

When I turn back to him, the heat in his eyes causes my heart to sputter. His gaze caresses my face and then is back on my lips.

“Like I want you too? Like I think about it all the time? Like it’s been a long time coming? Or like it never happened and we pretend there’s nothing we’re both feeling?”

My throat is tight, but I manage to rasp the words out. “Yes. Like that.”

Derek grins. “Well, I asked a series of questions and I’m happy to pick which one I’d like that answer to go with.”

Before I can respond, the Realtor clears her throat and the discomfort in her voice would be comical if Derek hadn’t just made me half crazy. “Here we are.”

“Thank God,” I say and get out of the car as quickly as I can. Then I realize we’re on Destiny Lane. How fitting? The one street in this town named after something other than trees, nature, or numbers.

I walk up to the front, ready to be done with this day, when I come to a full stop. I can’t move. I can’t think because I’m staring at the most perfect house. I don’t know if it’s the house or the conversation we had that has me so unsettled, but that’s the weird part, I’m not unsettled, I’m grounded.

All I keep thinking is…this is the house.

This is where I would live. This is a home.

I stand here, my eyes taking in the two-story home with the coziest front porch. It’s a light blue color with thick siding that makes the house look a little bigger. There’s an addition to the right that’s completely made of windows, and a two-car garage off the driveway with more than enough room for a proper workshop or Chastity to experiment with her weird science stuff. It’s…perfect.

I don’t even need to look inside because no matter what condition it is in, I would fix it. It’s the home I’ve dreamed of without even knowing.

I can see myself in that sunroom, painting while looking out at the oak tree that’s swaying in the slight breeze. Chastity would sit on the porch, reading a book or even on that tree swing while she daydreams.

Derek stands next to me, both of us looking straight ahead.

“This is the house,” he says.

My eyes snap to his. “What?”

“This is it. It’s the one. I’m going to buy it.”

No, this is my house. This is the house I need to live in. I need to talk him out of it and then sell my body to be able to buy it. “But you haven’t even gone inside.”

He turns to me. “I don’t need to.”

“Derek. Be rational! You can’t know this is the house and that this wouldn’t cost you a fortune to fix. You can’t live here.”

“Why not?”

Because I’m going to someday.

I feel like he’s pulling my heart from my chest. How can this house be causing me so much discomfort? It’s a house. It’s just a fucking house.

But it’s more.

“Because.” That’s all I can get out.

He turns to the Realtor. “This is the house. I’d like to make an offer.”

“But, Dr. Hartz, you don’t even—” The Realtor tries to speak, but Derek turns to me.

“Tea?” His gaze is intent. “Do you need to go inside?”

“No.”

“Why?” he asks with a knowing smile.

This can’t be real. “Because I know.”

Derek slowly nods his head and grins. “As do I.”

How can he know this house is right? How can he possibly feel what I’m feeling when I see this home? It doesn’t make sense, but then again, nothing has ever been anything but strange with us.

He turns to the Realtor again. “We need a few minutes.”

She doesn’t say anything, but I know she’s left us. He takes my hand, pulling me closer. We walk the pathway, up to the porch. My fingers touch the pillars and glide along the banister. There’s a swing at the end, facing a huge old oak tree that stands beside the house.

We sit down, my hand still in his.

My eyes meet his and he smiles. “Sometimes I feel like I can still see in your heart and head. There are times when it feels so natural.”

“And times when it doesn’t…”

“Yeah, but the times I can”—Derek sighs—“it’s like coming home.”

It’s this house, that’s what’s making him say these things. It has to be, because the way he’s looking at me it’s as though he’s seeing into my soul.

I don’t want to cry, but I can’t stop the tear that forms. No matter how I’m trying to deny what I want, it’s there. Derek may have been absent from my life, but never from my heart. “It scares me.”

He watches me, seeming to grapple with something before he answers. “Me too.”