Bidding Wars (Love Strikes)

chapter Two


Luke stared at the papers in front of him. His real estate agent had faxed them over. Apparently, more than one person wanted the place on Maple Street, and he now needed to decide if he wanted to offer any higher.

He’d really liked the old house. It would be great for when his son came to visit every other weekend. But now he had to decide how badly he wanted the place. Of course, this could be some gimmick from the sellers. They knew what a gem they had there and probably wanted the most they could get. He had forty-eight hours to come up with his new offer, if he decided to. He already had a good offer on the house—but was it good enough? He rubbed his temples and brushed the papers to the side of his desk. If he didn’t get it, there were other homes.

Some sort of commotion was coming from the front of the station. It was always something. Sometimes he wished that one day at work could be slow and boring. Perhaps he should have chosen a different profession.

He went to see what was going on. At the front desk, he found a very familiar-looking brunette demanding to talk to someone. Women were never patient when they needed something.

“Ma’am, calm down. I’m Sheriff Logan. Can I help you?”

The woman looked him square in the eye. “You! You’re who I am looking for.”

He flinched beneath her bold, accusing stare. “Why don’t we go back to my office, and we’ll see what I can help you with.”

She followed him down the hall, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor. This woman was really uptight. He took a seat and pointed toward the chair in front of his desk, but she didn’t sit. She looked as though she was ready to burst.

“I won’t be here long enough to get comfortable.”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re trying to steal my house,” she snapped.

He knew just who she was now. The image of a beautiful brunette who looked as though she were biting her tongue standing in front of a yellow house flashed through his mind. Perhaps he should act as if he didn’t remember. “Excuse me?”

“The house on Maple Street. I want it. And I’m guessing you do as well.”

He raked his hands through his hair. No faking it now. “Does your agent know you’re here?”

“God, no. Diane would kill me.”

“It’s a great house.”

“I want it. No, I need it. Please withdraw your offer.” She stared at him as though her request had to be taken seriously.

He looked the stunning woman up and down. She was skinny, but still had curves. Her hair was long and straight, and her eyes were the color of almonds. She could use some sun and had an overall sad look to her. Something tugged at his heart while he watched her.

“I’m sure there are other houses out there.”

She glanced at him, blinking her eyes. “Officer Logan, I’m sure there are. But this house felt like home. While I was there, I was finally happy. I felt like I was where I needed to be in life. I’ve had a year from hell, and it’s beginning to look up. If I don’t get that house, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Will you be homeless?” He hated when people complained about life and blamed others for it. Everyone was responsible for his or her own happiness. Yet, most of the folks he encountered didn’t get it.

“Of course not.”

“Look, Ms.…”

“Molly Harper.”

“Look, Ms. Harper, I get that you want the house. So do I. Maybe I felt all those warm and fuzzy feelings you did as well. And I don’t mean to come across rude, but I hear sob stories every day. It’s hard to sympathize sometimes. I’m sure your last year has been hell, as you said, but the only way for things to get better is to change. This house doesn’t make your life instantly better. Only your attitude can do that.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know nothing about me or my life. And I wasn’t looking for your sympathy. I’m over that from people. I thought maybe I could talk to you and get you to see that I really love that house. But now I see that talking with you doesn’t do any good.”

“You didn’t come in here and try to talk, Ms. Harper. You came into the station demanding to see me, and once you got back here you demanded I withdraw my offer. You weren’t looking for a pleasant chat.”

“How dare you! You know what? May the best offer win.” Molly left in as much as a ruckus as she’d come.

She crossed the station with fury in her step. What had just happened? Clearly, she wanted that house with a passion. If she didn’t get the house, would she show up here again?

He grabbed the property paperwork and tried to focus. Molly Harper’s words played in his head: may the best offer win. Did he want to make a competition out of this, as she clearly did? Or did he want to leave his generous offer alone. He picked up the photo on his desk of his five-year-old son. Sammy would love that house. Several big oak trees in the back yard were perfect for tree houses. The back yard was a little boy’s dream place to explore—already fenced and perfect for the dog he’d always hoped for.

He’d always liked competition. When he first discovered eBay, he spent hours enjoying the thrill of winning. He wanted the house, and he was willing to go as high as he had to go. He drummed his fingers on his desk as his thoughts flashed back to how attractive Molly appeared when she was angry. That’s right, Molly Harper, with your sweet ass—may the best offer win. He grinned and picked up his phone to make a call to his realtor.



* * *





“I don’t understand. What’s taking so long?” Molly parked the car in front of her small condo.

“They’ve got to look at each and every offer. I’m guessing they’ve received quite a few, since we’re still waiting,” Diane said on the other side of the phone conversation.

She let out a loud groan. “My lease is up soon, and I’ve already told the landlord I won’t be renewing. Someone needs to hurry up and figure something out. In the event I don’t get it, you and I need to get back out there.”

“I understand. I promise, as soon as I hear something you’ll be the first to know. I’ve done all I can do on my end.”

“I guess, but this is just getting ridiculous.” She was beyond irritated and couldn’t stand having her entire life up in the air.

“It’s Friday. Try going out tonight and having a little fun. Forget about all of this.”

“Easy for you to say.” Molly rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be in touch soon.”

“All right. Thanks, Diane. Bye.” She didn’t feel any better than before she’d called.

She sat in the car a moment and stared at her small condo. As the time passed, she had a bad feeling she wasn’t getting the house. Sure, she’d offered forty thousand over asking—a damn good offer—but that didn’t mean Officer Logan didn’t offer forty-one thousand over. It was a possibility.

As she brought the groceries inside, she decided to give Sandy a call. If she didn’t talk to a friend right now, she was going to go insane. The last thing she wanted was to have another Friday night pity party. Unfortunately, that handsome sheriff had been right: if she didn’t change her attitude, then things never would start to look up.

“Hello,” Sandy said after the first ring.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“What’s up? Any news yet?”

She placed the milk carton and eggs in the fridge. “I wish. I’m going crazy waiting. And the longer I wait, the more devastating it’s going to be if I don’t get the house.”

“I don’t see how you wouldn’t. You really think someone offered more than you?”

“It’s always possible.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Putting away groceries. The highlight of my life.” She closed the fridge.

Sandy laughed. “I’m picking you up and we’re going to hit the town. My treat.”

Molly glanced at the clock. It was a little after six. A bit early to hit the liquor, but it was Friday and had been a hell of a week. A night of fun was probably just what she needed. And if Sandy was driving, that meant if she drank a little too much, she wouldn’t have to call a cab.

An hour later, they were pulling up to a bar known for dancing and karaoke. There was nothing better than seeing drunk people attempt to sing. Hopefully, because it was early, not many people would be singing yet. She’d like to have a drink in her before someone murdered a song.

Inside the dimly lit bar, a chalkboard announced that tonight’s specials were wings and that it was ladies’ night. When was it ever not ladies’ night? But hey, that meant their drinks were half price, so who was she to complain?

Sandy guided her to the bar, where they sat down on two high stools.

“I think we should eat something first,” Molly suggested.

“You’re right. Otherwise by eight thirty, we’ll be the drunks singing.”

Molly laughed. “Yes, let’s make a fool of ourselves after everyone else does. Or everyone here is toasted.”

They decided to order a platter of wings and fries. Sandy insisted Molly go ahead and get a drink to let some of her stress melt away. And who was Molly to argue?

As they waited on the food, Sandy—also a nurse at the hospital—told her about her day. Sandy always got the mothers from hell. The ones who were certain their kids had some disease and who could never be satisfied that their kids had a curable cold and would be fine with a little rest.

It didn’t take long for the food to arrive. The busty blonde bartender laid down the platter and asked if they needed anything else. Sandy ordered a Coke with a shot of whiskey in it.

“Don’t forget you’re the designated driver tonight.” Molly took a sip from her fruity drink.

“And you better get plastered for us both!”

Molly laughed and bit into her fry as she looked around the bar. The place was beginning to fill up. They’d only had one man so far approach them to dance, and Sandy, being the in-charge type, kindly let him know they were having a girls’ night and that if and when they wanted to dance, he’d be the first one they found. After all, he was extremely attractive, but neither of them were ready to be touching bodies with a man.

Molly glanced at the stage and then toward the front entrance. “Oh my God!” She dropped her fry on the floor.

“What?”

“It’s him.”

“Who?”

“The guy who wants my house.” Of all the bars for them both to visit on a Friday night.

“You’re kidding? Where?” Sandy was practically falling off her stool as she looked around.

“He just came in the door. The blond one with the nice biceps.”

“Wow, he’s hot. Oh crap, don’t look now, but he’s heading toward the bar.”

They both swung around, pretending to be lost in their food. Molly didn’t think he’d seen her. He took a seat five chairs down and ordered a beer. From the corner of her eye, she studied him. Tonight he wore a black T-shirt with light jeans. His hair was styled the same way it had been the two previous times she’d seen him. He kept it short, with just a little hair gel to keep it in place.

When he got his beer, he pressed it to his lips and took a long drink. He looked as though he needed an adult beverage as much as she did. Well good, he deserved it. If he’d just backed out as she’d asked, they’d both have a little less stress right about now.

“Do you think he knows you’re here?” Sandy whispered.

“As long as he doesn’t look this way, I think we’re fine.”

“Maybe you should talk to him. Maybe he’s here drowning in his sorrows because his agent called to say he didn’t get the house.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Doubtful. Don’t you think if I got it, I would’ve heard first?”

Sandy shrugged. “I don’t know. I inherited my house.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not as easy as everyone makes it out to be. Especially when someone wants the same place as you.” Picking up her drink, she chugged the rest of her martini. “I need another.”

Sandy laughed and raised her hand to get the bartender’s attention. Only, when the busty blonde came over, Luke was looking her way. Crap, he’d seen her now. He picked up his beer and walked her way. Did he really have to come talk to her? Couldn’t they go on ignoring one another?

“Good evening, Ms. Harper.” He took a seat next to her.

“Officer Logan.” She glared at him.

“Please, call me Luke. Can I call you Molly?”

“No, I think Ms. Harper is more appropriate.”

He laughed. And it was an adorable laugh. His whole face lit up, and he had a dimple in his cheek. Oh God, she had a weak spot for men with dimples. There was just something so cute about it. Not that this man was cute—he was hot. If circumstances had been different, she’d be flattered he was talking to her.

“Well then, Ms. Harper, I take it you’ve not heard yet from your realtor.”

Molly let out a sigh. “No, not yet.”

“Want to drink together, if your friend doesn’t mind?”

Sandy leaned her elbow on the bar. “Not really sure it’s a good idea, seeing as you’re her competition.”

“It wasn’t a competition until Ms. Harper here said, ‘Let the best offer win.’ She upped the game.”

Oh sure, blame it on her. “Look, I really want the house. And I’m going to be devastated if I don’t get it. I understand, you hear sob stories all day, yadda yadda yadda, but I truly have had a year from hell. And that house is a new beginning for me.” She paused. “I’m sure I could have handled myself differently the other day. I apologize for barging into your office.”

He took another sip of his beer. “Apology accepted. I’m sorry to hear that things haven’t been going your way, really I am.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, you don’t care about me.”

“I don’t know you.” He gazed into her eyes.

For a moment her breath caught and it was as if they were having a moment. Then reality hit: there couldn’t be anything between them—ever. “And you probably never will. Once this is over, one of us gets a gorgeous new home and the other goes back to square one.”

“Guess you’re right about that.” He cleared his throat. “Are you single?”

Was this man serious?

Sandy gave him a sharp nod. “What’s it to you?”

“I only ask because it’s a big house. It would usually just be me there. And if I win, I’d be willing to rent you a room. Just something to think about.”

Molly took a sip of her martini, not believing her ears. Had the man really offered her a room? There was no way she would ever be that desperate that she would need to rent a room in her dream home from him.

“Thanks for the offer. And sorry, I can’t return that favor when I win it.” Molly spoke with a bitter tone.

“Want to get out of here?” Sandy looked at her friend.

“Don’t leave on my account. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought maybe we could be friends.”

She was about to speak, but her cell phone rang. Pulling it out of her purse, she saw it was her realtor. Luke’s phone rang at the same time as hers. It was time to find out who was getting the house.