I forced a rueful smile. “Nothing I hadn’t already guessed.” That she and my father had put image and propriety above everything else, including my happiness, Charlie’s happiness, and a loving community. No wonder my mother had fled from this place—she’d always been looking for normalcy. Always cared more about fitting in than being loved. And that’s what she’d wanted for me, too. A normal life. One that fit the ideal life she’d set her sights on. That she’d attained.
The sad thing was, in my mother’s opinion, I was living the dream in New York. Sure, my marriage had been a bust, but what was one little divorce? Everybody who was anybody in the city had one of those under their belts. What mattered to her was how my life looked on paper, and on that count, I had it all. The Ivy League education, the law school diploma on the wall, an up-and-coming career at a leading firm… what did it matter that I was miserable? My day to day life was filled with work, stress, and more work, with the occasional trip to the gym to break up the monotony. Because one couldn’t forget that the perfect body was also part of the deal. Looks mattered almost as much as income and job title. I’d bought into that hook, line and sinker. Until now.
God, the thought of going back to that was almost too depressing to bear.
My mother’s words came back to me. It wasn’t normal. She was right about that. Life in Bridgewater wasn’t normal… but it was better. Better than the life I’d been leading in New York, at least. If I went back there, I’d be going back to day after day where I was too busy to meet a nice, single guy and go on a date, let alone have a meaningful relationship. Hell, my job in New York left me no time for a simple friendship outside of the office.
Less than a week in Bridgewater and I’d experienced more joy, friendship, laughter, and amazing sex than the last few years in New York. Maybe the people in this town had the right idea. They certainly had different priorities than most people I’d known in my life, but that didn’t mean those priorities were wrong.
A smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I remembered Sam and Jack’s means of helping me get my priorities straight. Especially the spanking. Sheesh, my ass was still a little sore. Other places, too. Maybe their particular techniques were working, after all. Because I sure as hell was starting to reconsider what was important to me. Not spanking, but the way they made me forget everything, to focus on what was really important. And it wasn’t a corner office.
I’d be hard pressed to find a more caring group of people than those in Bridgewater. And Sam and Jack? My heart constricted in my chest at the thought of those two men. My men.
Yeah, they were definitely a priority.
But so was my career. I’d already invested a shitload of time and energy into getting where I was. Granted, I still wasn’t partner, but I would be. All that hard work had to count for something, didn’t it? I couldn’t just throw all of that away. Could I?
Sally told me she had a potential buyer to meet at another property and with a quick wave she was out the door, leaving me alone with the clutter and my conflicted thoughts. Luckily intensive cleaning was a fantastic distraction, so I threw myself into it and didn’t stop for the next hour.
I probably wouldn’t have stopped then if it wasn’t for Charlie’s phone ringing. The man on the other end introduced himself as Buck Reinhardt. The name didn’t ring a bell but from his arrogant tone and the expectant pause, I guessed it should have.
“What can I do for you, Buck?”
Turned out Buck Reinhardt was a pretty big deal in Montana real estate—or at least, he seemed to think so. He launched into a spiel about his company and all the development projects they had in the works. As he was talking, Sam and Jack knocked on the back door and walked in, making concentration difficult. Two sexy cowboys strutting around my kitchen and I had the attention span of a gnat.
As Buck yammered on in my ear, Jack sauntered over with that sexy grin of his and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me up against him so I could feel his hard cock pressing against his jeans. Sam leaned against the kitchen table beside me and gave me a wink.
“Do I have your attention, Catherine?” Buck asked in my ear.
“Um…” I gave Jack’s chest a little shove but apparently he took that as a request to start nibbling at my neck. I bit my lip to keep from moaning into the phone.
“I wasn’t fortunate enough to know your uncle, but I’ve heard great things about him,” Buck said.
“Mmhmm.” Why was he still talking? And what was Jack doing with his tongue that made my knees give out like that?
“But I do think your uncle would have appreciated the New York City apartment you could purchase for the price I’m offering on his property.”
My eyes sprang open. Offer? What offer?
Buck quoted a number then that made me gasp so loudly, Jack sprang back with surprise and Sam shot up straight. They hovered over me with questioning looks, but I waved them off as I asked Buck to repeat what he’d just said.
“The amount?”
“No, all of it. I was distracted.”
Buck repeated himself and this time I listened, with Sam and Jack waiting impatiently nearby. By the time I hung up, they were pacing the kitchen. “What was that about?” Sam asked. “Was it your ex? Chad? Because he and I had a little chat and he won’t be bothering you any more.”
I frowned at him wondering what he’d done, what he’d said to Chad, but I was distracted by Buck’s offer to think on it further.
“No, not Chad. A real estate developer.”
I told them what he’d told me—how he wanted to buy Charlie’s property, along with his water rights, for a sum that made my stomach do backflips. Holy shit, I could buy myself a partnership with that kind of money. Hell, I could buy the firm.
Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was a hell of a lot of money—more than I’d be able to save in a decade at my current salary. Buck had been right, I could buy property in the city. No more shoebox apartment. For an investor, he’d done his research and worked his sales pitch to where it would be most enticing.
Jack muttered a “hot damn” at the sum and Sam slid down into a kitchen chair. By his grim expression, I had a feeling he’d gone into lawyer mode, thinking through every angle of this deal.
I knew, because I’d done the same thing. As soon as my stomach settled down, my brain raced into action trying to sort through possible pitfalls, the legal ramifications, what to do next, and what this deal would mean for me.