Bidding Wars (Love Strikes) - By Lacey Wolfe Page 0,2
channels, petting her cat, Tigger, looking for something with no romance—and no colonial-style houses—her cell phone rang. Reaching forward, she picked it up from the coffee table and saw her ex-husband’s name. She supposed it was time to see what in the world he wanted.
“Steven, hey.”
“How are you?”
“I’m good.” She’d never tell him otherwise.
“I have some big news, and I wanted you to be the first to hear it.”
“OK.” She took a deep breath. “What is it?”
“Terry and I are having a baby.”
She was silent. She knew this was coming. Any day now she expected to hear it from someone, whether it was at the grocery store or a family member calling. She hadn’t expected Steven to call her, and she didn’t know what to say.
“Molly.”
“Uh, yeah. Um, congrats.”
“I don’t expect you to be happy for me. I wanted you to know before the news got around.” He cleared his throat. “I figured it was the least I could do.”
The least he could do. She really wanted to yell at him and tell him how she felt, but what good would it really do? “OK.”
“I won’t keep you.”
“OK. Well, bye.” She hung up and buried her face in her hands, fighting back any tears that threatened when her phone rang again. It better not be Steven again.
She picked the phone up from her lap and saw it was Diane. Something in her gut told her it wasn’t the news she was wanting. She gazed up toward the ceiling and mouthed a silent prayer before answering.
“Hello.”
“Molly.”
She could tell by her agent’s tone that her gut feeling was right. “You have bad news. Give it to me.”
“It’s not entirely bad, but I’m sorry to tell you that there have been multiple offers. You have forty-eight hours to decide what your absolute highest and best offer is.”
“Crap. OK.”
“You already have a damn good offer, and I doubt anyone has trumped it. Give it a lot of thought. You still have some wiggle room on the amount you were preapproved.”
“Max it out. The full amount I was preapproved for. I need this house.”
“You sure? That’s nearly forty thousand over asking price.”
“Diane, if I lose it, I’ll be devastated. I might as well give the best fight I can.”
Diane was silent a moment. “OK, I’m going to draw up the papers. Check your e-mail in about twenty minutes.”
“Will do. Thank you.” She hung up and dropped the phone next to her on the couch. She let out a loud moan, which was followed by Tigger kneading her paws into her thighs. She scratched the cat under the chin. “Don’t you worry. Mommy’s getting us a brand new home and you’ll get your own room. I just need to convince the competition to drop out.”
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