NINE
Anna
“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet earlier.” The realtor unlocked the front door, pushed it open, and then gestured toward the vacant living room. “It needs a little work, but it’s beachfront. Take a look around and see what you think.”
Without furnishings, the home looked massive. I gazed up at the ceilings and tried to guess how high they were. Giddy with excitement, but still not believing what was going on, I stepped to the side and allowed Fisher to walk past me.
It had been a week since we made it to Oceanside. True to his word, Fisher and I had yet to have sex. He’s joked about it and hinted around, but had not so much as made one move in that direction.
In honor of what he’d said, I was willing to wait until his feet were firmly planted before I attacked him.
“It’s a little more that I was hoping to spend, will the bank be flexible on price?” Fisher asked.
“Their price is very hopeful, I’ll say that. If you make a reasonable offer, they may consider it.”
“We’ll look around,” he said.
“Take your time. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”
Hand in hand, we walked through the home. The realtor said it needed work, but it looked perfect to me. The crayon marks on the walls, holes where pictures had been hung, and scuff marks on the hardwood floors were proof that the home had been lived in, and nothing else.
We took a quick stroll through the lower level. The expansive living room ran from just inside the entrance to the rear of the home. The wall that faced the beach was all glass, giving an open view of the ocean. On the left, a dining room and a kitchen I’d simply die to have. On the right, the master bedroom and an office or den.
“So, there’s one bedroom down here, and two upstairs?” I asked.
“One down, two up.”
I laughed. “Is that what that means?”
He shrugged. “I guess so.”
We walked up the stairs and looked around. Two bedrooms and a living area were in the upstairs loft, which was open to the downstairs. I peered over the handrail toward where the realtor stood.
“This place makes me feel so small,” I whispered. “I’ve never seen ceilings this high.”
He gazed downstairs and then looked at me. “I like it.”
It seemed like a pipe dream to me. In two weeks, I’d escaped a nasty relationship, came close to being raped by three rejects from Deliverance, was saved by a stranger, rode across the United States on the back of a Harley, and played a part in a multi-million-dollar gold negotiation.
Now, I was looking at a home with a man who’d promised to fuck my brains out once his feet were firmly planted on the ground.
And, the home we were touring faced an ocean that prior to a week ago, I’d never had the privilege of experiencing.
My mind was incapable of processing everything.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“About?”
He spread his arms wide. “This?”
“The house? I love it. How could I not?”
“I’m going to make her an offer.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
He leaned over the handrail. “Write up a contract for a million three-fifty,” he said. “I won’t accept a counter offer, and they’ll pay one hundred percent of closing. If they’ll do it, I’ll pay cash. If they won’t, I’ll go elsewhere.”
She looked up. “That’s going to be close. It’s a foreclosure, so they might--”
In mid-sentence, she paused. A thunderous roar from outside grew louder and louder. In a few seconds, the walls began to shake.
“What is that?” I asked.
“That,” she said in an elevated voice. “Is precisely why this home hasn’t sold. I’m sorry, I should have said something.”
“What is it?” I asked.
Fisher tugged on my hand. “Motorcycles.”
We rushed down the stairs and to the front door. Upon opening it, the source of the commotion was apparent. The street was now lined with motorcycles, side-by-side, for as far as I could see.
The rumble from the exhaust was breathtaking. I could see where many would find it repulsive, but I wasn’t one of them. I saw it as a reminder of the freedom I felt on the open road.
One by one, the motorcycles pulled up to he home next door.
We stepped off the porch and stared in awe of what we saw. Each of the men wore a leather vest. As they came to a stop at the end of the driveway, I noticed their vests were marked with the name of their club, and I grinned.
“Filthy Fuckers,” I whispered. “Look. It says it on the back of their vests.”
Fisher nodded. “Filthy Fuckers MC. They were here when I left for Iraq. Rumor has it that a Navy SEAL is the president.”
“Really? You know these guys?”
“Don’t know them. Know of them.”
“Oh.”
One of the men took off his helmet, hung it one his handlebars, and then began to saunter in our direction. He was covered in tattoos from his fingertips to his neck, and his chest was just as broad as Fisher’s.
I swallowed heavily. “He’s coming this way,” I whispered.
Fisher tugged on my hand. “Come on.”
We walked toward him and met in the center of the lawn.
“Sorry for the commotion,” the man said. “We’re having a barbeque. Do it once a week.”
“No problem,” Fisher said. “We were just looking at buying this place.”
The man extended his hand. “Name’s Crip. I’m the president of this rag tag bunch.”
Fisher shook his hand. “I used to see you guys here and there when I was in infantry training.”
“Marine?”
Fisher nodded. “Not any longer. Long story.”
Crip chuckled. “I was a SEAL. It’s probably a longer story.” He gestured toward Fisher’s motorcycle. “That your sled?”
“Bought it a few weeks ago. As soon as I got out of the joint.”
Crip crossed his arms and looked Fisher up and down. “So, you don’t play well with others?”
“Depends,” Fisher said.
“When you two get done, you should come around back. I’ll introduce you to a few of the fellas.”
Fisher gave a nod. “Sounds good.”
Crip nodded in return, and then turned away. We walked back into the house, only to find the realtor pacing the floor in the kitchen.
“That’s become a problem” she said. “It’s driven most of the prospective buyers away. I’m sorry.”
Fisher let out a sigh. “I’m a man of my word. If you get them to accept my offer, I’ll learn to live with the noise and the commotion. If they don’t accept it, I’ll find another place. Somewhere quiet.”
She grinned a guilty smile. “Considering all things, I think they might accept it. I can call them right now if you’d like to wait.”
“Thank you,” Fisher said.
We walked to the back of the house and stood side by side at row of windows that faced the beach. As the foamy waves washed ashore, I crossed my fingers in hope of the bank accepting Fisher’s offer.
It was a superstitious habit that I used to do each time I met a new foster family, but it never seemed to work in my favor. Nonetheless, I kept them crossed and hoped for the best.
After a long silent view of the beach, I heard the realtor’s footsteps coming down the hallway. Suspecting her news was going to be bad, I fixed my eyes on the horizon, certain it would be the last time I viewed it from that vantage point.
“You said cash, is that right?” she asked.
Fisher turned around. “That is correct.”
“Congratulations, Mister Fisher. They accepted your offer. On a cash deal we can forgo some of the steps that prolong the closing process. You should be able to move in two weeks from now.”
“Thank you,” Fisher said. “Can you give us a moment?”
“Certainly.”
She turned around and walked to the kitchen.
Fisher looked at me and smiled.
Then, he kissed me.
The kiss wasn’t simple, and it took me by surprise.
I closed my eyes and kissed him in return. I’d been kissed more times than I could count, but I’d never been kissed like that. My knees went wobbly, and my body tingled from head to toe. It seemed to last forever, and with each passing second, my legs grew weaker.
Just before I was sure to collapse, our lips parted.
I opened my eyes.
Holy crap.
“Two more weeks,” he said.
I took another look at the ocean. The sun was starting to set, and the sky had changed from light blue to a colorful array of pinks, blues, and oranges. I looked at Fisher. “We can kiss for those two weeks, though, right?”
“We sure can.”
I closed my eyes, cocked my head to the side, and waited.
As the sun set over the ocean, he kissed me again. My life had gone from a disaster to a fairytale in a matter of weeks.
In two more weeks, I’d discover what Fisher was capable of when his feet were planted firmly on the ground.
But, for the time being, I’d settle for the kiss.