The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(69)



“Sounds amazing.” He turned about, imagining Emmy seated at an island, waiting for pancakes. “What’s through that door?”

She held open a swinging door. “A laundry area. I’d put in a pocket door here and clean it up.”

“No dedicated office or den?” Not that it mattered. He wasn’t really looking. Not seriously, anyway. Daydreaming. Fantasizing at most.

“No, and it’s only got two bedrooms and one bath, all upstairs. That’s a major drawback.” She held her finger to her lips. “Don’t tell Claire I said that.”

He pretended to lock his lips.

“If there aren’t any major structural or piping and wiring problems, and if I can salvage most of the existing flooring, I might have room in the budget to create a small powder room from a section of the laundry room.” She sighed. “If I had a buyer and we could agree on a price, I might also afford to build a small office off the living room. It’s always an option for someone to do down the road. Just pop a French door on the right side of the fireplace, and then just do a single-story ten-by-ten room. Small but adequate. It could even double as a guest room in a pinch.”

“Let’s see the bedrooms.” He’d gotten caught up in this fantasy now. If Val would agree to his last request, maybe he could stretch and swing it.

“The bedrooms.” Steffi cleared her throat, then led him up the narrow stairs. He followed close behind, enjoying the view of her cute ass and the intimacy of the close space. He could picture this being a nightly routine, even.

The bedroom doors flanked the landing. Each generously proportioned room had eaves that kept them cozy. The shared bathroom—which could be a drawback when Emmy hit her teens—was a decent size.

“I wish I could get rid of the tub and do a fabulous walk-in shower, but with only one bathroom, I can’t ditch the tub. I’m thinking of putting a deep soaker tub here with a waterfall showerhead over the center. I can squeeze a double vanity along this wall.”

“I’m sure it’ll be stunning.”

“I hope so. I love the stained glass window in here. On a sunny day, it probably casts a pretty pink color in the room. Emmy would love that!” She smiled.

His daughter would love it.

He and Steffi both turned to leave at the same time, bumping into each other as they tried to squeeze through the door. “Sorry.”

“My fault.”

Neither moved from the tight space.

Having just toured this house through her eyes, he could picture himself here, with Emmy, and as crazy as it seemed, with Steffi, just like they’d talked about all those years ago. After a long day in court, he could return home to find Steffi in this shower, washing off the grime from some other renovation project. Maybe he’d even climb into that big tub and let the water splash over them both.

He might’ve groaned.

“Ryan?” She laid her hand on his chest. “Are you okay?”

He covered her hand with his own and held it there. “Hard to say.”

“Do you feel it?” She swallowed hard. He could almost hear the effort.

“Feel what?” His heart thundering beneath his rib cage?

“Us, here in this house.” Her eyes gleamed as she spoke even faster. “All of our old dreams suddenly possible . . . sort of. I mean, if I hadn’t, well, you know.”

He didn’t say anything because they’d already dissected the past. He’d let go of his anger weeks ago, so he just nodded.

“Actually,” she continued, looking at her toes. He tipped her chin back up.

“Actually, what?”

She licked her lips. “Maybe I’m totally off base and, if that’s true, just tell me to shut up and I’ll stop. But ever since we went sailing, I’ve been thinking about us and how we’re both home again. I was wondering if . . . well, if there was any chance that maybe you’d be interested in going out sometime. Like for real. On a date.” Her cheeks grew redder by the second.

“Steffi . . .” He hesitated. In many ways, daydreaming about making things work with Steffi was a lot like fantasizing about being able to afford this house. He could get too attached to the idea and then suffer massive disappointment if it failed. “I won’t pretend it hasn’t crossed my mind. The world’s full of coincidences, but sometimes I wonder if fate brought us both back here now. I also won’t pretend that none of the old feelings have resurfaced. But it’s not just me taking a chance now. I’ve got Emmy to protect. And maybe I shouldn’t consider dating until my divorce is final.”

“Okay. Makes sense.” She removed her hand from his chest and backed away. “Pretend I never said a thing. Friends, then. Friends is good.”

She offered a fleeting smile before trotting down the stairs. He stood at the top like a coward. Like the guy who let her ghost him all those years ago without a fight—out of pride or fear or a combination of both.

She’d broken up with him because she’d wanted adventure. If he made his decisions based on safety, then he didn’t deserve to be with someone like her. A minute later, he found her in the living room.

“For the record,” she said without meeting his gaze, “I know you consider me a high-risk proposition, but that works both ways. I could get hurt this time around, especially if Val waltzes back in to reclaim her family.” She put distance between them, crossing to the far side of the living room. “Like you said, you’re not divorced. Any day now, she might realize what a mistake she’s made.”

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