Granddad's House (On Geneva Shores) by Kate Vale Read Free Book Online

is.”
    “Indeed I do,” he drawled. “Will you be there, too?”
    How I wish! But Granddad didn’t want her there. Oh, damn. Maybe if I was a fly on the wall. “No.” She cleared her throat. “Just him—and you.”
    “Please tell your seller I’ll be there at three. Thanks for calling, Ms. Brown. Olivia.”
    Her heart was galloping again. His voice dripped with sex appeal.  A problem she had to get over. Her brain kept shooting messages she didn’t want to acknowledge. She called Sally again, puzzled that her best friend had yet to reply. She left her grandfather a voice mail and met with Melanie to go over the listing presentation later that day, trying with some difficulty to avoid thinking about what might be happening during her grandfather’s meeting with Mr. Beauregard Elias James.

 
     
    Chapter 4
     
    Minutes ahead of his appointment with the owner, Beau drove slowly past the house, then angled his car at the curb, the better to see the spacious side yard. The big Victorian was the kind of home he’d often imagined for himself—if he were married and his wife had a similar appreciation for old houses. He recalled a brief conversation with Heidi about homes, but she’d liked modern and sleek, not classical. His condo had been more her style. He knew no women who saw the possibilities in older homes like he did. In fact, none of the women he’d spent time with seemed to care about the kind of renovations that made up the bulk of his growing architecture business. 
    His thoughts turned to the realtor and her profusion of wild red curls. Her comments about her grandfather’s house suggested that she, too, loved old homes. Or maybe just this particular home. In spite of his misgivings, he wanted to tame her and her curls, if that was possible, or caress them into further abandon. Auburn , she’d insisted. He chuckled. They were red, no matter what she said. That delightfully rounded bottom of hers was no less fascinating; he’d enjoyed its provocative swaying in front of him when Olivia had led him to the front door. That picture of her in the newspaper hadn’t exaggerated her beauty. If anything, it didn’t do her justice.
    Olivia, you are lovely . He had to stop assuming the worst about women in business. George was right. All women couldn’t be like Heidi.
    But something told him Olivia Brown wouldn’t be easy to win over. He now regretted that she might have misinterpreted his earlier comments. Olivia clearly wasn’t into flirting with strangers or customers, and now that he was interested in getting to know her, he wondered if he shouldn’t apologize. Would she accept his remarks or simply shove him deeper into the hole he’d inadvertently created by asking the male broker to call him? That house was obviously a family home, her family’s home. Maybe her grandfather would tip him off how best to approach Olivia. And why wouldn’t she be at this meeting? He was sure that wasn’t her preference. He’d never known a realtor not to be present when buyer and seller met.
    He speed-dialed. “George, I’m meeting with the seller of that Victorian we talked about. I’ll let you know how this meeting goes and when we can get this purchase wrapped up—or if I need you to run interference with the agent.”
    “If you say so. Just let me know.”
    Beau pointed his silver Mercedes SLK into the driveway of the Victorian. As he exited the driver’s side, he hesitated. Were his casual grey sport coat and knife-creased charcoal slacks sufficient to convince the seller he was serious? Maybe he should have worn a suit and tie.
    An image of Olivia came to mind again. That green outfit of hers had shown off her curves in a subtle but unmistakable manner. Her legs, tangled in bar stools or not, were long and shapely, tapering to thin ankles. And that pouty look when she’d mistaken his concern for something else made him think about kissing her, even if it would have offended her. She was all about