Gena Showalter - Gena Showalter Bundle

He gave the mansion another once-over. “Fresh air? I don’t think so. My guess? You feared the walls were about to cave in and got out while you could.”

“Ha, ha.”

“Honey, I sure hope you knew what you were doing when you signed the deed.”

“I’ve been buying, fixing and selling houses for four years. Give me some credit.” She might have chosen an unusual career for a woman, but she loved what she did. Even better, she had an instinct for real estate, knew when and what to buy, knew when to sell, and she almost always made a profit.

A dedicated skeptic, Gray remained unconvinced. “Please tell me you negotiated a good deal. I seriously doubt anyone will ever snap this baby up.”

“I’m willing to bet I sell this house for more money than you make in an entire year.”

“I’ll take that bet.” Grinning, he stroked his fingers over his jawline. “To even the odds, you only have to make five thousand dollars over the purchase price and restoration costs.”

Katie didn’t hesitate. “Deal.”

“If you win, I’ll wear a dress to the next family luncheon. If I win, you have to have dinner with Steven Harris. He’s a new detective in my unit,” Gray rushed on before she could protest. “Everyone likes him.”

She groaned. Her brother meant well, he truly did, but she wasn’t going out with any more of his friends. The last cop he set her up with had spent the entire night discussing—in minute detail—the way a bullet had once pierced his chest cavity. All of the fascinating details were delivered while she tried to suck down chopped tomato spaghetti.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she said succinctly. “The bet is off. I’d rather be staked to an anthill wearing nothing but a bologna bikini than go on another blind date.”

Her brother remained undeterred. “Are you seeing someone?”

“No.” She didn’t elaborate, knowing it would only encourage him. In the last year, she’d endured endless evenings of bad food, bad movies and even worse company. She had finally come to the conclusion that she suffered from a severe case of First Date Syndrome.

The only symptom—which was proving fatal—was that she always found something wrong with her love interests within an hour of meeting them. Richard ate his peas one at a time. John’s voice had a high, nasal pitch. Quinn walked with his knees bowed out. Mitch was too clingy. Worse, all of them were shorter than her own six-foot build, and she hated, hated looking down at a man. That was how she’d made it to her twenty-fifth birthday without a single male ever making it past the getting-to-know-you stage.

That was also how she’d made it to her twenty-fifth birthday without a single male getting inside her pants.

Deep down she truly desired a man to cuddle with, a man she could look up to (literally) and share her hopes and dreams with. A man who would kiss and lick every inch of her naked, quivering body. But how could she find such a man when she turned away the few who wanted her?

Maybe she should go on another blind date.

Gray uttered a long, drawn-out sigh. Thankfully, the sound whisked away her foolish musings. “If you’re holding out for perfection,” he said, “I’m afraid you’re doomed for disappointment.”

“Are you kidding me?” Though she was amused by his assumption, she sounded properly disgusted. “I already know there’s no such thing as a perfect man. My brothers taught me that lesson very well.”

“Smart-ass.”

“I’ll take my quarter back, thank you very much.” Grinning smugly, Katie held out one hand, palm up. She only had four quarters left, and she didn’t think they’d last through the day, much less another five minutes with Gray. Earning a little money back was an unexpected boon.

Her brother crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not the one who’s trying to quit cussing, therefore I owe you nothing more than an apology for soiling your pretty little ears with my crudity.”

Her grin quickly faded. “You have the worst potty mouth ever, and I swear you’re the one who taught me every dirty word I know.”

He shrugged as if to say, You damn well shouldn’t have listened.

“There’s a patch for smoking,” she grumbled. “Do you think they make one for cussing?”

“Absolutely not. Soap is the only cure.” The tinge of amusement in his voice told her Gray was recalling the many times during their childhood that he’d washed her mouth with soap. “So, when do I get the official tour?”

Though she longed to wash his mouth out, she said, “Now, if you’ve got time.”

“I do.”

“Then let’s get started. Since we’re outside, I’ll show you the garden first.” Oh, he was going to love this, she thought, suddenly bubbling with anticipation. “Come on.”

They walked the distance, playfully arguing over whose morning had been worse. He won, of course. Who could compete with being accosted by a delusional psychotic intent on ruling the world? When they reached the garden’s entrance, Katie stopped, gave Gray a moment to absorb the ambiance, then splayed her arms wide.

“Welcome to my playground,” she said.

Silence greeted her. Impatient, she tapped her foot and waited for some sort of reaction from him. One minute passed, then two. He hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t emitted a single sound. Finally, she could stand it no longer. “So…what do you think?”

“Holy sh—”

“Don’t say it,” she ordered with a laugh.

“But those statues are—” His eyes widened with incredulity as he studied one statue, then another. “They’re getting off.”

“I know.”

Seven statues guarded the entrance. Three were male; four were female. All were nude and posed in different stages of self-gratification. Though he stood just around the lush, green thicket unobservable from where they stood, Katie knew her stone warrior had his hands at his sides. He wasn’t pleasuring himself, but he was obviously aroused. Magnificently aroused. His body as beautiful as any Greek statue. What he offered a woman, however, could not be covered by a fig leaf.

Why am I thinking about him? Stop!

“I take back my comment about the house being a dump.” Gray strolled to a female sculpture whose expression of utter rapture complemented her I’m-ready position. He ran his hand along the curve of her spine. “Hell, I’ll even buy the place from you.”

Katie’s chuckle floated across the daylight, mingling with the sudden eruption of her brother’s beeper. He checked the number. In less than a heartbeat of time, his shoulders tensed and his facial features hardened. He was no longer her teasing older brother; he was now a seasoned detective, distanced and in control. “I’ve got to go,” he said, his tone dark with secrets. “I’ll visit later this week, and you can give me the grand tour then.”

She barely had time to nod before he placed a swift kiss on her cheek, said, “Be good,” then raced away. Just like that she was alone again.

With nothing else to do in the garden, Katie strolled to the house, allowing herself only one backward glance. Inside, she blinked away the orange and red specks clouding her vision. Thick cobwebs filled each corner of the dining room, both high and low. Dirt stained every wall and the white paint was yellow and peeling. As she moved into the kitchen, her shoes crunched on the broken shards of what once must have been a magnificent chandelier.

The house needed major renovations to be considered even halfway livable, and at that moment, all the work required threatened to overwhelm her. One task at a time, she reminded herself. One task at a time. Earlier, she’d finished tiling the bathroom walls, so the only chore left on today’s To Do list was stripping the kitchen floor. First she had to remove the layer of carpet, which covered a layer of linoleum, which covered a layer of God knew what else. Tomorrow she would replace the wood trim and baseboards in the bathroom.