Chapter One
Genna
Bright red flowers reaching toward the early morning sun assure me I’m in the right place. The expansive red maple tree in the front yard is every bit as beautiful as the picture on the short-term leasing website portrayed it. I’m greeted only by the sound of birds singing as I climb out of my car and stare at my home for the next six months.
Isolated and quiet. Perfect.
It wasn’t my first choice, only because it’s much more space than I need, but the options were few and the location and setting just too desirable to pass up. Granted, when I made this reservation over a month ago, I had no idea the isolated part would turn out to be such a big perk.
It feels good to be on my feet after such a long drive, and I take a moment to stretch my legs before walking up the path to the front steps. There isn’t much of a front porch, just a few feet of cement, and the ceramic frog statue I was told to look for is easy to find. It stares at me with a goofy smile while I tip it over and remove the key taped to the underside.
The key opens both the handle lock and the dead bolt. A faint smell of citrus flows over me in a wash of cool air, and I step into the foyer. The owners must keep the heat on very low between tenants. It’s fine for now. With all the stuff I have to unload and carry in, I’ll be sweating regardless.
The house is beautiful. A gorgeous vaulted living room with a beamed ceiling is open to a modest dining area and spacious kitchen. A short walk down a hallway takes me to the master bedroom with an attached bathroom. Oh wow, I’m going to be spending some time in that huge jacuzzi tub. Opposite the master bedroom is a den, dark paneled and lined with shelves. A desk sits tucked into one corner and a leather couch is pinned on both ends by tables which each hold a lamp.
Cozy.
I’m especially fond of the large plate glass window when I pull back the heavy curtain and let the light pour in. A bit of dust dances in the beams, swirling around me.
It doesn’t take me long to explore the rest of the house, another bedroom with its own bathroom, a bonus room right across from it that’s sparsely furnished with a loveseat, recliner, and coffee table. I can’t imagine I’d use either of those. I’ll be spending plenty of time on the long, screened in porch that wraps around the back of the house.
Returning to the living room, I glance around with a smile at how open and filled with sunlight the rooms are. I’m going to like it here. A yawn reminds me I’ve been awake a long time and I need to get my car unloaded so I can take a nap.
I’m happy for the walk-in pantry just adjacent to the kitchen because I’ve brought enough food and supplies to last a small army. When I first made these plans, I wanted to stock up so I could spend a lot of time just relaxing and working on my project. I didn’t want to have to go into the small town to shop very often. Considering the circumstances now, I’m doubly glad I went a little overboard. The only things I anticipate needing over the coming months will be the occasional fresh foods like milk, eggs, and fruit. Fortunately, the grocery store in the area offers pick up, so that’s a problem solved as well.
Fatigue starts to catch up to me, and I only bother putting away the refrigerated and frozen food, leaving the rest in bags and boxes on the counter for later. Nap first. There will be plenty of time for the rest.
Months of it according to the latest news report.
Instead of crawling into bed, I lie on the living room couch, tucking a throw pillow beneath my head. If I go to bed, I’m liable to sleep all day and that isn’t what I want. Falling asleep in a strange place is usually hard for me, but not today. Within minutes, I’m out.
The sound of a car engine reaches my ears just as I’m waking up. It sounds like there’s a car in the driveway. Have the owners stopped by to make sure I got in?
A split second of a glance is all I catch through the window on my way to the front door. It’s just enough of a glimpse to see long, curly brown hair. My brain, still fuzzy from sleep, thinks nothing of opening the door to ask this woman what she’s doing.
The door creaks, giving me away before I can speak, and my words catch in my throat when the person turns around to regard me. Not a woman.
Not by a long shot.
My five-foot six height is a little above average for a woman, but this man towers over me.
Here’s where a smarter person would probably close the door again and put something between herself and the strange man, especially since I’m not within shouting distance of neighbors. Instead, I take a step back and ask, “What are you doing?”
With the ceramic frog in his hand, the man blinks at me like I’ve asked a trick question. “Are you the owner? Because they said no one would be here to let me in.” He waves the frog where the key was taped. The key currently residing in my pocket.
“I’m renting.”
His brow furrows and the corner of his mouth dips in. There’s something familiar about him. “There must be some mistake. This is one-twenty-seven Park Drive, right?” His eyes dart around, landing on the numbers attached to the siding a few feet away.
“It is, yes.”
He rubs a big palm over a stubbled jaw, and peers down at me. “I rented this place for the next two months through VACA-away.”
“I rented it for the next six months from them. You’re right. There must be some mistake.” He pulls out his phone and taps it a few times, then hands it to me. It shows the rental agreement email they sent him.
“You reserved it three days ago?”
“That’s right.” His wild hair blows into his face and he shoves it away.
“I have the same email. Except I reserved it about six weeks ago. If you want to wait here, I’ll get my phone and show you.” There’s no way I’m giving this place up and ending up stuck with my parents.
His shoulders slump, and I recognize the signs of exhaustion on his face when he nods. “I believe you. I’ll call and see what happened. Maybe they have another rental available nearby.” His last words are mumbled more to himself than me and I feel sorry for him. There’s little chance he’s going to find anything, especially nearby.
“Do you want to come in and sit down while you make the calls?”
Gratitude blooms into a grin on his face and again, I feel like I know him from somewhere. “I’d like that, thanks. I’m Patrick.”
“Geneva,” I reply. “Genna for short.”
“Thank you, Geneva. It’s been a long day even though it isn’t quite noon yet.”
He follows me inside to the living room and sits on the couch. I leave him to make his phone calls and grab us both a bottle of water. My reflection in the glass door of the microwave draws my attention to the fact I have a severe case of bedhead. Never fall asleep with your hair in a ponytail.
I yank out the hair tie, run my fingers through my unruly locks and twist them up into a quick bun before grabbing the water bottles and returning to the living room. He doesn’t notice me as I approach behind him and I pause, listening to his conversation.
“Just find something, Milo. No, I’m not going to do that.” After a moment of silence, he snaps. “Because she reserved it first. I’m not forcing her out because the owners are dicks that are willing to let me outbid her! Just find me something else. I can’t go home.”