I stared up at the house, trying my best not to panic.

I was failing.

"It's not as bad as it looks," the attorney assured me. "Just needs some love and a little bit of paint."

I didn't think so. Looking at the peeling yellow siding and the trees looming dangerously close to the very old roof, I thought it probably needed some gasoline and a match. Instead of saying that, I nodded in what I hoped was a thoughtful way. "Let's see the rest of it."

The attorney espoused the features of the neighborhood as he unlocked the door. I half-listened. Lots of parks, museums, and good restaurants in the area, apparently. "And," he added, shoving his shoulder into the door, which opened with a rusty squeal like a goddamn haunted house attraction, "you're in a great school district. This is one of the most desirable areas for buyers with young families."

OK. That would work in my favor.

The inside was pin-neat - not unexpected, with what I had known of Aunt Barbara. She might not have been spry enough to paint the exterior, but she would have taken a lot of pride in the cleanliness of the house.

The only real obvious problem was that it hadn't been changed since the 1970s. From our vantage point at the front door, I could see the gold shag carpet in the living room and avocado-green fridge in the kitchen.

I would have my work cut out for me in terms of making updates, but as long as everything underneath was solid that wouldn't be a big deal.

We made the walk through - downstairs had the living room, kitchen, dining room, and a small powder room. Besides being straight out of the seventies - powder blue toilet and all - nothing looked like it would be a big headache.

Upstairs had three bedrooms - two pretty good size, and one smaller one - and the full bathroom. This one was also powder blue. I wondered if they had gotten a bulk discount.

Heading back downstairs, we stepped out into the back yard. It was a decent size, being a corner lot. The fence along the back was new - my guess was that the neighbor behind had put it in, as the chainlink on either side of the yard had definitely seen better days.

"We've been paying a lawn service out of the estate," the lawyer explained. "Just to keep things neat."

And it was. The grass was freshly-trimmed. The yard itself was a large rectangle without any sort of character. Against my will, I started mentally adding plants. A hydrangea for that shady corner. Columbine beside the steps - maybe red? They would spill out nicely and fill in the patchy grass.

"So, what do you think?"

The question hung in the air. I took a deep breath.

"I think I'll move in," I said.

It was a good thing I traveled light.

That's what I told myself, choosing to believe that the fact that everything from my previous life fit into the bed of my pickup truck was a good thing.

Sure. Let's call a messy divorce and leaving the home I'd carefully and lovingly made into a home a blessing. Let's be that fucking naive.

I hauled my suitcase out and brought it up to the front door, turning the key and shoving my shoulder into the wood when it resisted opening up.

That was going to be one of the first things that got fixed.

I took a few trips, bringing in some more clothes and boxes of books. I didn't have any furniture, but thankfully whatever was in the house would suffice until I could get new things. I might even keep some of the vintage pieces; they seemed solid enough and would last a good long while.

On one of my earlier trips over to change the locks - who knew how many keys were floating around out there - I'd stocked the fridge, and now that I was officially moved in I paused to grab a celebratory Coke.

I drank it leaning against the formica counter, looking around with a critical eye. I still had a lot of things I needed to sort out, and this place would take no shortage of work. But I was home, and after the past six months…that felt good.

I raised my can in a toast. "Thanks, Aunt Barbara," I said. "I'll take care of the house. I promise."

The house remained silent. Either Aunt Barbara's soul had fled her avocado-green paradise when she shook loose of the mortal coil, or she was skeptical and withholding judgment until she saw what I did to the place.

Either way, without any communication from beyond to divert my attention, I decided to sort my priorities for the coming week.

First, I needed a place to sleep. It felt strange to take Aunt Barbara's room, so I would be sleeping in the guest room at the back of the house. I brought my suitcase up and pulled the curtains back, smiling when light flooded into the window.

I sat on the bed and immediately sprang back up as the mattress sank way too far beneath me. I poked my head under the bed and saw the issue immediately - the box spring was absolutely trashed, and several of the boards for the frame were missing.

Fuck.

I went and checked out the bed in the master bedroom. It wasn't in much better shape. I had a moment of sadness for my great aunt. I hoped she hadn't been too uncomfortable here in her later years, and I wished I'd been close enough to help her out. From what I understood of her, though, she'd been a very proud, very private woman.

We'd only met a few times when I was a kid, before my parents had moved up to New York and we'd fallen out of touch. She'd lost her husband back when they were both in their fifties - cancer, the same disease that would eventually take my mom when she, too, was way too young. George and Barbara had never had any children. I wasn't entirely sure why, but given what I remembered of how loving they were towards me, I didn't think it was that they hadn't wanted to be parents.

Finding out that I, as her closest living relative, had inherited her house and the remains of a small pension from the local school district had been a shock. In accordance with her wishes, I had her cremated and placed in the local military cemetery beside her husband. She hadn't wanted a service.

I didn't know much about her at all, honestly. I felt guilty about that. She was giving me a fresh start, and all I was doing was getting rid of her stuff. I hadn't even sent Christmas cards. It didn't feel right.

I was pulled from this line of thought by the doorbell ringing - a rusty sound that made me wince.

The place was clean, but there was no doubt it needed love.

I bounded down the stairs and peeked through the window beside the door to see four figures standing on the front porch - two men, a woman, and a small girl holding a plate of what appeared to be brownies.

Ah. The welcome wagon.

I put a smile on my face and turned the deadbolt, opening the door wide and trying to appear welcoming as the hinges screamed.

"Hi," I said.

A chorus of hellos, soft and southern, greeted me.

"We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood," the woman said, smiling. "I'm Maria." She offered her hand, and I took it and smiled. She was dark-haired and pretty, with big brown eyes.

"Claire," I replied. "It's nice to meet you."

The little one thrust the plate of brownies up at me. "Can I have one now?"

I belly laughed, even as Maria turned to her with a look that would've stopped me dead in my tracks when I was her age - and maybe even now.

"Yes," I said. "Let's get you a brownie."

"Thank the good Lord," she sighed, walking in through the front door. "I've been waiting for one of these since yesterday when mama made them."

"I am so sorry," Maria said in a low voice.

I shook my head. "Please, don't be. Come on in and behold the glory of my avocado-green fridge. I've been desperate to show it off to someone."

We were distracted by the sound of my dining chair scraping across the linoleum. The little one was making herself at home and looked at me expectantly once settled.

"No need to wait for me," I said, nodding at the plate. "Help yourself."

She grinned, and she was missing one of her front teeth. That was the last I saw of her face, as she turned her attention directly to the giant plate of brownies.

"This is my husband, Dax," Maria said, pulling my attention back to the two men at my front door. I smiled at the man, who was bald with a thick, dark mustache and glasses. He wasn't much taller than I was, but he was solidly-built. I reached out and shook his hand, and he gave me a nod and a smile. "And this is our friend, Cash." I offered my hand to the second man, smiling. He took it and smiled back at me. When he touched me, my heart sped up a bit.

"Hi," he said, and there was absolutely no reason that simple greeting should have made me blush, but it did.

"Nice to meet you all," I said. "Please, come on in." I stepped back and held the door as they filed in.

"Avocado-green fridge, huh? I can understand why you want to show it off," Cash said, a grin on his face. His exceedingly handsome, bearded face. His dark eyes sparkled at me.

"I'm thinking of submitting it for the tour of homes," I managed to reply dryly. "The perfect time capsule kitchen."

He laughed, and I was pleased that it was a little too loud and a little too long for my stupid joke.

"Mrs. Greene, the previous owner, was a bit older," Maria explained, settling in beside her daughter at my table.

"She was my great-aunt," I replied.

"Oh! I'm so sorry for your loss." The men murmured their condolences as well, and the little one paused in eating her brownie to eye me up.

"Mrs. Greene was nice," she announced after a moment. "She always bought lemonade from me and Kelsey when we did our lemonade stand. Sometimes she even brought us cookies."

For some reason, my eyes welled up. I smiled at her. "Thank you for telling me that," I said. It was one of the first concrete things I knew about my aunt's recent life here.

"Will you buy lemonade from our stand?" She asked.

"Finley," Maria said, but she was fighting a smile. "Don't be rude."

"You let me know whenever you're selling it," I said. "I can't make cookies worth a sh…darn, but I'll buy two cups."

That seemed to satisfy her. She gave me a nod and turned back to her brownie.

"So are you going to be staying here for a bit? Or just cleaning everything out?" Cash asked, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms over his chest. The muscles in his arms bulged and I had to force myself to meet his gaze instead of staring at his arms like an idiot.

"I'm staying," I said. "I signed the paperwork earlier today, actually. This beauty," I patted the fridge, "is officially all mine."

Everyone shared their congratulations, and I remembered that I should be some kind of hostess. I offered drinks around, and soon everyone was seated at the kitchen table with a beverage and a brownie. Cash took the seat next to me, a development that made me very happy even if I didn't want to admit it to myself.

I learned that the Harwoods - Maria, Dax, and Finley - lived kitty-corner to me, and Cash lived in the house directly behind.

"I like your fence," I told him, then immediately felt dumb. I tried to recover and explain. "Might have to get the name of your contractor so I can get the same one on the sides."

He grinned. "I'll give you his number," he promised. "He does good work."

That turned the conversation to plans for the house, which I tried to downplay. I didn't need my new neighbors to worry about the hassle of living next to a construction site.

"I'm going to try to settle in before I do anything major," I said. "I'll probably just be painting in here and maybe planting some things out back."

"What are you planting?" Cash asked.

"No trees or anything," I assured him. "Just some flowers, something for a little bit of color back there."

He smiled at me. "Selfishly, pretty glad to hear that. Took me a long time to convince your great-aunt to take down the dead tree that was back there. My pool's never been cleaner since we took it down."

"I'll let you know if anything I want to put out there will go above the fence line," I replied. "Wouldn't want to cause you any trouble."

"I doubt you will," he said. "Even if you do, I'll just give you some trouble right back." He winked at me.

I laughed, even as my face flushed. He would give me trouble, all right. I might not even mind all that much.

"Speaking of you getting settled," Maria said, standing up, "we should let you get back to it. Finn's got a soccer game this afternoon that we need to get ready for."

"I can't thank you all enough for coming by," I replied, standing myself. Dax and Finley followed suit, but Cash stayed in his chair.

"I can stick around if you need help with anything," he said.

I considered it for a minute. It would certainly go faster getting the junk beds out with some help, but the thought of getting assistance with the first project in the house grated on me a bit. I wanted to do this on my own.

"I'm good," I answered, "but I really appreciate the offer."

His eyes narrowed a bit, but he stood. "You sure?"

I smiled and said that I was.

"Well, if you change your mind - or if anything comes up - just come knock on my door. I'll be home all day."

I thanked him and we all made our way to the door. I wished Finley luck at her game and thanked everyone again. Dax and Maria started down the front steps, but Cash lingered. When Dax looked back at him, Cash waved him on. I thought I caught a glimpse of a smile on his face before he turned back around, giving one last wave.

"You didn't seem too sure about not needing help," he gently chastised after the family was out of earshot. "It's really no trouble if you do."

"It's nothing I can't handle," I replied. "The beds upstairs are in tough shape; I need to get them taken apart and out of the way."

He nodded. "Don't doubt for one second you can handle it - but a hand would make it go faster, right?" I opened my mouth to protest, but he stepped forward and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Let me help."

The warmth of his hand and the sincerity in his face disarmed me. "All right," I conceded. "Just remember that I gave you an out."

He laughed, his hand dropping from my shoulder. "Lead the way."

We made our way back inside the house and I led him upstairs, trying not to imagine it was for other reasons.

He helped me strip the guest bed of sheets and blankets, and then we hauled the mattress downstairs. I was surprised at how well we worked together - we each seemed to understand the moves the other wanted to make and accommodated each other easily.

The box spring was dispatched just as quickly, and then we were left with the bed frame. "What do you want to do with this?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at the battered wood.

I studied the frame. The headboard and footboard weren't overly ornate, but they were solid - and with a little elbow grease, I could definitely see a place for it in the house.

"Think we can get it down into the garage?" I asked. "I'm going to see how it cleans up."

He nodded, and we went to work taking it apart and hauling it downstairs. The slats were beyond repair, and we put those in a neat pile by the garage door for easy removal.

We started chatting as we did the same with the second bed - mostly small talk about the neighborhood. I listened intently and asked some questions about the best places for various things - groceries, takeout, and coffee.

Before I knew it, we were bringing down the last of the second bed. Dropping the broken slats onto the pile, I turned back to Cash and smiled. "Thanks. I could use one more recommendation," he tilted his head and nodded at me to continue. "Where can I get rid of this stuff?"

He grinned and checked his watch. "You're in luck. I know just the place."

That first day was nice. Weird, but nice.

Everyone in town seemed to know Cash, and he seemed to…tolerate their knowing him. He didn't go out of his way to be super friendly, but he was certainly cordial and greeted almost everyone by name.

It made some practical things - getting a resident sticker to use the waste station, for example - really easy since he was with me and could vouch for my new address. It made other situations uncomfortable, like trying to ignore the passive-aggressive comments from the barista who greatly misunderstood my acquaintance with Cash.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled as he led me outside. "I'll address it later."

I forced a smile. "No worries."

"Oh some worries," he corrected me, and I glanced over as he took a sip of his coffee and made a face. "Ugh. She put hazelnut in mine. She knows I hate it."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing, and he raised his eyebrows as he fought back a smile. "Something funny?"

"That's why you never sleep with your barista," I teased. "They have too much power to wreck your day if things go sideways."

His cheeks flushed. "My day is far from wrecked," he assured me, giving me a small smile before nodding towards my cup. "She get yours right, at least?"

I took a tentative sip. "Perfect," I said. "Hopefully I don't drop dead in the next hour."

"I'll stick around and make sure you're good for a little while," he replied, dropping his cup into a wastebasket as we walked by one.

"That bad?" I asked.

"I really hate hazelnuts."

I offered him mine, but he shook his head. "Nah. Probably for the best. I'd be awake all night if I'd finished that cup."

We walked in companionable silence for a few minutes. The main area of the town was really quite charming, with lots of little shops and boutiques. I paused in front of one that caught my eye - a large window full of greenery in geometric white planters. I looked at everything for a few seconds before thinking better of it and beginning to move again.

"We can go in," he said. It was my turn to shake my head.

"No plants yet," I said. "I need to see how the light comes into the house before I decide on what I want."

"You like plants," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Guilty as charged," I replied, sipping my coffee. "They can be a bit high-maintenance depending on what you get, but they're nice to have around."

"What else do you like?" He asked.

"That's a pretty broad question."

He shrugged. "Just tell me the first things that come to mind."

"Animals," I replied. "Working on my house. Reading - I'm really big on reading, actually."

"In that case," he took my elbow and began gently steering me to cross the street, "we have a stop to make."

"If it's to books, lead the way." I paused. "What do you like?"

"Animals," he said, and I was sure he was going to parrot my own responses right back to me. Thankfully, he went a different route. "Being outside - hiking, fishing, anything in that vein. Working out."

"Could've guessed that last one." I didn't realize how it sounded until he turned towards me with a half-grin on his face. "Your arm is as big as my head," I added defensively, and he laughed.

"I am also a big reader," he continued, "which is why we're coming…here."

He stopped in front of a cute brick building and I read the sign out front. Public Library. I grinned, and he smiled back before bounding up the steps and opening the door for me.

I walked out with a library card, three books, and a tote bag. Cash had a single book tucked under his arm, after promising the older librarian - with a charming smile - that he would return the two he had at home.

I considered making a joke about being careful so the librarian didn't slip hazelnuts into his next book, but I decided to skip it. Instead, I thanked him for taking me around and told him how much I'd enjoyed myself.

"Can I take you to lunch?" He asked. "There's a great place right down the street…and the waitress won't spit in my food. Probably."

I laughed. "I appreciate it, but I should really get back to work - I need to get some kind of sleeping solution put together."

"I have a guest bed," he said. "You can sleep there…or I can help you bring it over and put it together."

"You've already done way too much," I said, shaking my head. "I can't thank you enough."

"Thank me by having some tacos with me." I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. "One more hour, at most. I promise - then I'll let you go back and get settled."

"You had me at tacos," I laughed. "Let's go."

Tacos turned into walking off tacos, which turned into ice cream and then walking off ice cream. Before I knew it, night was starting to fall.

"Let me take you to dinner," he said as we returned back to his truck. "There's this great little Italian place about four blocks away."

"I really need to get home," I said.

"Bed for the night, right," he said, narrowing his eyes as if he'd just remembered as he walked over to the passenger's side to open the door for me. "Or…you could let me buy you dinner and then come stay with me." My eyebrows raised up and he very quickly amended his statement - "In my guest room. Stay with me in my guest room."

"Smooth," I teased.

He grinned at me, his eyes twinkling. "Will you let me feed you?"

"You've fed me twice today," I reminded him.

"So…you'll feed me?"

I laughed. "Can I convince you to take a raincheck?"

"Afraid not," he said, planting his hand on the truck and leaning towards me. "I'll need to collect tonight. But…" he came closer, and my heart started pounding. "I could be convinced to eat takeout pizza with you while we get your bedroom set up."

"I won't be able to talk you out of this, will I?"

He grinned. "You're learning."

"All right," I agreed, smiling despite my bemusement. "Takeout pizza, I'm buying, then we're setting up a place to sleep."

"Deal," he said, offering his hand for me to shake. I took it, trying to ignore the hot jolt that ran through me when he rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. I squeezed his hand before letting go.

"Well, let's get to it," I sighed. "Otherwise I'm sleeping on the floor tonight."

"Guest bed," he reminded me, grinning as he walked around to get into the driver's side.

It would strike me later that, despite spending the entire day together, we didn't know much about each other. Every conversation had been surface-level, or about the amenities in the town. There was one thing, however, that became obvious.

"I'll just go in," he said as we parked in front of the pizza place. His cheeks flushed a bit. "I, uh…I know the counter girl."

I tried very hard not to laugh as I dug my wallet out of my pocket and handed him some money. I watched him walk into the shop, giving myself permission to stare a little bit. He was a good-looking guy - and I was obviously not the only one who thought that way.

No matter how good-looking he was, though…and man, was he good-looking…it was very clear that he was an absolute mess with relationships. That was why I wouldn't be taking him up on his 'guest bed' offer tonight - if I ever did.

I didn't need that headache. But in the meantime, I didn't mind some light flirting, some food, and some company on my first day in town.

As long as I kept it that way, things would be fine.

I managed it, somehow - even though he made it very difficult for the rest of the night. A hand trailing over my lower back, a few teasing comments, a thumb tracing over my lips under the guise of 'something' on my face.

He was good. No wonder he left a slew of broken hearts in his wake.

The worst of it happened as he was leaving. After several excuses to linger, I finally walked him to the door. Standing on the porch, he opened his arms and offered me a hug.

He smelled so good. How did he smell that good after a day of walking around in the sunshine and sweating while helping me?

He ran his hand up and down my back, holding me tight - but not too tight. It was snug and secure and it had been a long time since I was held like that. I let out a little sigh and snuggled my head into the nook of his neck and shoulder.

"I can stay," he murmured in my ear, his lips way too fucking close. "Just ask me."

Oh God did I want to. It would be a terrible decision, but I was so long overdue for one of those. Why shouldn't I make the terrible decision with the hottest man I'd met in recent memory?

The next words out of his mouth reminded me of why I shouldn't.

"I wouldn't even have a long walk of shame in the morning."

There it was. Ice water all over my scorching libido. Don't shit where you eat. If things went sideways - and given what I knew of him already, they would - we would still be neighbors.

I forced myself to chuckle as I pulled away, even though what I really wanted to do was let out a very forceful string of curse words. "And that's why I'm going to say thank you, again, and tell you to have a good night."

He glanced down and nodded before giving me a shy smile. "It was really nice to meet you, Claire. Welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thanks, Cash. For everything. I mean it." My heart slammed against my ribs and I was still uncomfortably turned on. "I'll see you around."

He nodded, meeting my eyes directly as he replied.

"Count on it. Have a good night."

"You too," I replied, and he made his way back to his truck. He turned back and waited a second after he opened the door. Instead of doing what I would really have liked to, I waved and he waved back before getting in and firing up the engine.

I went in quickly, before I could change my mind, and shut the door behind me firmly as he pulled out of the driveway.

"Fuck," I murmured, resting my head against the door.