The One That Got Away by Bethany Chase Read Free Book Online

gigantic.”
    “Five bedrooms is a hell of a lot of space for one person, though.”
    He tips his head toward one shoulder. “I want a family, eventually. And in the meantime, I’ll make my brothers and my parents come stay so I can show off,” he says, grinning.
    I wonder, not for the first time, what his brothers look like. Appears to be pretty solid genetic material they’re operating with. “Works for me. Any other requirements?”
    “Yeah. I need enough room for a short-course pool.”
    “Civvy, please. I do not speak Swimmer.”
    “Twenty-five meters long.”
    “You want an eighty-foot pool in your backyard?”
    “Yyyyep.” He folds his arms over his chest. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you think you were going to give me a little kidney pool? Concrete steps at the shallow end and some decorative tile around the edge?”
    “Of course not, but eighty feet, that’s…”
    “The size I need,” he says firmly.
    “Okay, I can make that happen. Why does it have to be exactly twenty-five meters?”
    “It’s a standard size. Makes it easy to keep track of distance. And it’s a frame of reference to judge my time,” he explains. “So I can gauge exactly how slow I’m getting as I slide into middle age. Trust me when I tell you it’s important to me; this is the one thing I’m going to be a dick about.”
    His frankness nudges a laugh out of me. “Well, would you
like
some decorative tile work around the edge?”
    “As long as it’s the right size, you can make it as pretty as you want.”
    “Eamon. I may not know the correct dimensions of competitive swimming pools, but I hope you don’t actually think I would make your house
pretty
.”
    He grins mockingly. “Well, a girl architect, I figure there’s a good chance—” He trails off, laughing at the expression on my face. “Come on, you left the door wide open.”
    “You might not want to antagonize the person who’s responsible for making sure your house stays put over your head,” I say.
    We spend the next hour scrolling through the real estate listings. Every so often, he reaches across my lap to pet Newman, who is passed out on the couch next to me, feet splayed in the air. Every time Eamon touches him he purrs. I’m high on the rarepleasure of talking about buildings with someone who’s as interested as I am. Eamon has a great eye and a quick mind—I can see him absorbing the terms and the information that I feed him, storing them away for later.
    By the time we finally go to bed, I’ve got a pretty good idea of what he wants his house to feel like. And I’ve realized something else, too: a stylish renovation of a classic mid-century home, for a popular young athlete, is the perfect project to catch the attention of a magazine editor, and get me published. We have a promising list of places we want to check out, and I’m zinging with excitement to see them. Maybe having him back in Austin isn’t going to be a
total
pain in the ass after all.

5
    Since all available evidence suggests that there’s a driving blizzard in hell when Eamon Roy fails to get his own way, I am unsurprised that, by the time I get back from muay thai the next morning, he’s managed to charm a Realtor into giving up her Sunday afternoon for him. Danny declines to join us; he has a blind date with a friend of Jay’s.
    “For brunch? Sexy,” Eamon observes.
    “Tell me about it,” says Danny. “This is what working nights does to your social life. You’re lucky you don’t have a real job.”
    Eamon shoots me a you-see-what-I-put-up-with look. “Well, let’s hope you get laid—you need it.”
    “I might say the same of you,” Danny mutters. “Weren’t you leaving?”
    “Have fun, Danny,” I say over Eamon’s long-suffering sigh, and push him toward the door. “Are you two always this obnoxious to each other?” I ask when we get outside, shielding my eyes against the sudden sunlight. “Or is this just the joy of reunion I’m witnessing?”
    Eamon