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is
impulsive. Crazy. I’ve made my fortune on taking risks:
checking the odds, playing the market, making sure all those little
red flags pay off in my direction, but this is different. I’m
not dealing with numbers on a screen anymore, but I’m sick of
playing pretend. I made the smart moves my whole damn life, and look
where that left me. No, this time, I needed to do it all differently.
    Stop
thinking, start following my instincts.
    And
what I felt in Delilah’s arms for that brief, reckless kiss
seems worth the risk. It was the push I needed, and after that,
everything fell into place so fast I didn’t have time to pause
for doubts. A couple of weeks later, here I am with the blank slate I
was looking for.
    The
question is, what am I going to do with it now?
     
    I’m
clearing junk from the workshop out back when I hear another engine
coming up the track. I head around front and find a guy about my age
in work boots and a Rolling
Stones T-shirt staring
up at the house. “Ryland?” I ask, going forward to meet
him. His construction company, Callahan and Ray, came recommended by
a friend, so they were one of my first calls after arriving in town.
    “That’s
me.” He shakes my hand. “Good to meet you. You weren’t
lying when you said this place needed some work. Are you sure you
don’t want to tear down and just go from the ground up?”
he adds, taking a few steps to peer inside. “We could do
something pretty spectacular with this square footage. My
brother-in-law fancies himself an architect, but the guy knows his
shit.”
    “Maybe
down the line,” I tell him. “But for now, I’m just
looking to make it habitable. Roof, floors, plumbing.”
    “Uh
huh.” Ryland already has a notepad out, jotting down things as
he walks the property. “What about the workshop?” he
asks, when we reach the back of the house. “If you tore it
down, we could do a guesthouse, or maybe put in a pool?”
    “The
workshop stays,” I say firmly. It was one of the reasons I
bought this house at all. “It’s actually built pretty
sturdy. I just need to clean it out, and it’s good to go.”
    “Suit
yourself.” Ryland grins. He looks back at the house, and I can
see him weighing quotes and pricing. “Any timeframe?”
    “ASAP.”
    “It’ll
cost you,” Ryland says apologetically. “Nothing happens
fast around here.”
    “That’s
fine. Whatever you need.”
    He
arches an eyebrow. “Alright then. I can have some guys out for
the roof tomorrow.”
    “Sounds
good to me.” I shake his hand, and we go over some more details
before he heads out. The sound of his truck recedes into the woods,
and then silence reigns, all over again.
    I
head inside, grab a beer from the cooler, then wander out back to
take it all in. The silence is still weird to me, after all the
constant noise of the city, but I like it. Back in New York, I’d
still be in the office now, three screens running as I checked stock
prices and market dives. Or maybe I’d be heading out to some
fancy restaurant, slipping a fifty to the doorman to stroll into the
new hottest club. Now I’ve got nothing but trees, grass,
crickets, and the creek.
    And
I haven’t felt this good in years.
    I
think of Delilah again. She was thrown to see me again for sure.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so upfront about my reasons for
moving here, but I’ve never been the type to play games. I see
what I want, and I go for it. And damn, do I want her.
    That
kiss . . . 
    It
took me by surprise alright, but the instant her sweet mouth was on
mine, I knew I never wanted it to end. I’ve never felt heat
like that, never known such an overwhelming urge to wrap my arms
tight around a woman and never let go. Call it chemistry, call it
fate, I don’t need to know the name. It’s the one damn
thing I’ve been sure of after a world of confusion and doubt.
    I
need more.
    My
phone buzzes, and when I fish it from my pocket, I find a familiar
number taunting me