Almost Paradise: Smitten Series, #3

By Susan V. Vaughn

For Irene Shultz, Caseville is a chance to escape her boring existence and do something outside of her control. Fix up her grandparent's old home and take steps toward her future. Simple as that. If only she could ignore the flirty local determined to buy her property. 

 

If only she could stop him from stealing her heart…

 

For Doug Heck, Caseville is his paradise and the home on Carolyn Street is his future. Get a real estate agent and make an offer. Simple as that. If only he could convince the stubborn owner to sell.

 

If only he could get her beauty off his mind…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inkspell Publishing
• Release date: May 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9781953335258

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Irene nervously drummed her fingers against her leg, listening to the rain pelt the window in her therapist’s office.

Will the storm ever end?

Tap, tap, tap.

Where is the afternoon sunshine the weatherman promised?

Tap, tap, tap.

What if I have to drive in the rain all the way up north?

Tap, tap, tap.

A two-hour trip in the rain where anything could happen!

Tap, tap—

Hello, Irene? Are you still with me?

Her fingers stilled. She glanced up at her therapist, Cameron Hensley. Cameron stared back at her with gentle brown eyes and hands folded on her lap—a picture of angelic patience.

Six months ago, Irene had turned to Hensley Therapy for Women desperate for a solution to her OCD that didn’t require medication. Cam had provided a solution she lovingly referred to as the triple dose a combination of acceptance, fear-exposure, and honesty. If Irene was ready to be honest with her life, brave enough to face her fears, and accepting of herself, then Cameron felt she could manage her OCD and live a normal life without medication. She only had to be ready to put in the work.

No medication. No more feeling dead inside. Sign her up!

Irene had started her therapy sessions with Cam twice a week while slowly weening off her anti-anxiety medication. Today was the first official day she was meds free. And the effects were showing. Already, she felt the uncontrollable thoughts taking over.

Did you see the weather outside? she said in a panicked voice. It was supposed to be sunny by this afternoon, but it has been raining nonstop all morning. The weather channel got it wrong. I just know it. I’ll have to drive up north in the rain. But I can’t. I just can’t. It’s too risky. Now my grandparents’ cottage will never get sold.

Her therapist nodded her head as if this was all perfectly normal. I understand your fears, Irene. Driving in the rain can be tricky, but not impossible. You might have to slow down, and take your time, but you’ve been driving for eight years now and have had plenty of experience.

That was true. She took a breath, annoyed that Cameron could always counter her fears with softly spoken sound logic. But at the same time, it gave her hope. I still think I should wait to drive up north another day. A day when it’s not raining. Just in case.

You could do that, Cam agreed. But there’s no guarantee that the weather will cooperate another day. Not in this state. She gave Irene a knowing smile. They both knew how tricky the weather in Michigan could be. Yet another reason for Irene to worry. The unpredictability in life was her nemesis.

Plus, you’ve been talking about renovating and selling your grandparents’ cottage for the last two weeks, Cam continued. You were excited to get started.

Another truth.

Her grandfather passed away three months ago, leaving Irene his place up north. A cozy three-bedroom tri-level that sat on a canal in Caseville. She used to go up there every summer to visit her grandparents when she was little. When her parents were busy working, or fighting, or having affairs on one another, they would dump her in Caseville as if they needed a break from her. In reality, it was she who benefitted most from escaping the problems from home. For a short time, every summer until her parents divorced, she got to stay with her grandparents and witness a marriage that didn’t suck. Her summers in Caseville were some of the fondest memories of her life.

She had no time for fond memories now. Not with her disorder. It was a full-time job managing her OCD. Constant debilitating worries. She couldn’t even think about moving out of her mother’s home without experiencing a panic attack.

The only thing she had going for her was her career as a real estate agent. She could sell homes. That was one thing she was good at. She understood the real estate trends and was keen to get into the flipping business. Now that the economy was doing better, people were buying vacation properties up north like hotcakes. Her grandparents’ home could sell for a good price, especially after the renovations she had in store were finished. It would be her first real flipped property. Hopefully, the first of many. She just needed to keep her anxiety under control.

Why did I stop taking those damn meds now! She should have waited until she finished and sold her first flipped property.

It looks like the rain has stopped, Cam announced, pulling Irene’s attention back to the present.

She followed her therapist’s gaze out the small window in the corner of the room. The rain was gone. The sun had even come out, peeking through fluffy, gray, misshapen clouds. The image provided her with a mixture of relief and trepidation. It was one thing to talk about flipping her grandparents’ place, it was another to leave the comfort of her home and do it.

It might still be raining up north, she said weakly.

Or it might not be. Cameron gave her a meaningful look.

Irene tried to ignore that look but couldn’t. Every therapy session since she had inherited her grandparents’ place, she had been talking about flipping the property. It was the first time in her life she had a goal that wasn’t mental health related. Like falling asleep at night without rearranging everything in her room first. Her OCD had been in the driver’s seat for so long that having a goal outside of it was something Irene couldn’t ignore.

She sighed, glancing down at her hands interlocked on her lap—fingers entangled in a death grip of fear about the rain, and anxiety over all the things that could go wrong with her first flip. But she had been planning this trip forever and it was time to put up or shut up.

She closed her eyes, as if to ward off the realities of her decision. Fine, I’ll go.

****

Irene followed the curve on Crescent Beach Road. On the right, she could see enticing glimpses of Lake Huron. Tall trees hovered above both sides of the street, blanketing her travels. Several cottages and log cabins peeked out between the trees. The road began to curve in the other direction, and she could see Lake Huron sparkling brightly on the left this time. She had forgotten how clever Sand Point was. A little peninsula offering water views on both sides and canals throughout. A property anywhere on Sand Point was a waterfront property.

It was noon. The sun shone brightly in the blue June sky. No rain. Only sun. She was wrong to have worried. Like always. But that didn’t mean the worry would stop.

The sun blazed above the scenic road and created a feeling of paradise. There were several people out walking the main road. Each person waved at her as she drove by. She waved back automatically and even managed to smile. It was hard not to smile in a place like this. She had forgotten how lovely it was here.

Without thinking, she lowered her window to take in the warm summer air. It was like heaven to her lungs. She inhaled deeply. This was something she couldn’t get in the suburbs. Air so fresh it made her chest hurt. Or maybe her chest hurt because the smell was so familiar. Reminded her of all the fishing trips she took with her grandfather in his little motor boat. They would go early in the morning and watch the sunrise in the middle of Lake Huron. It was hard to imagine a time she was willing to sit in a dirty boat, or place a slimy worm on a hook, but she had once been fearless. Free. She and her grandfather would put their fishing lines in the water, and he would tell her stories about when he was a boy. The stories were always funny, involving mischief and mayhem. By noon, they would eat peanut butter and jelly, and share a ginger ale. Then they would head in, where her grandmother would be sitting on the deck in her favorite rocking chair doing a crossword. When they got close, she would call out, Catch anything?

The answer was always no. They never caught a damn thing. But it didn’t matter. Their time together was priceless.

Tears began to trickle down Irene’s cheeks, making it hard to drive. She rolled up her window, deciding she had enough fresh air, enough memories. She was a weeping willow and she hadn’t even seen her grandparents’ old place. This trip was going to be harder than she thought. Probably because she hadn’t thought of anything but renovating and selling. She hadn’t accounted for the memories the process would induce. For someone as detailed oriented as herself, she had somehow not planned for her grief. Which left her open to the unknown.

Her stomach filled with anxiety. She would have to call her therapist soon. Cameron said she could call the clinic phone anytime. That put Irene at ease, but she still didn’t want to have to call this early in the trip. She didn’t want to be that much of a headcase.

She could wait. She would force herself to wait. She could handle this.

The road curved again to the right, and her grandparents’ road was coming up on the left. She took a deep breath and cleared her heartache away before taking the turn down Carolyn St. The road was quiet with thick trees on both sides and a few small houses sprinkled throughout. At the end of the street, she could see the canal and a little white house on the left. She exhaled, and her stomach dropped.

She wasn’t ready for this. She thought she was, but she wasn’t. For some reason, flipping her grandparents’ place no longer seemed possible. How could she sell it? It was a magical place filled with sweet memories and happiness.

By the time she drove her car down the cracked driveway of the little white home with black shutters, the tears were back. Only this time, she couldn’t give in to them because she wasn’t alone. A young man wearing a camouflage baseball cap was standing next to the For Sale sign in her front yard, waving in her direction.

She squinted at him through her tears, annoyed at his invasive presence.

The man made up the distance between them, not at all deterred by the scowl on her face. As he got closer, she could see he was quite good looking. Messy blond hair peeked out of his baseball cap. Brown eyes, heavily lashed, captured hers. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and dark cargo shorts, and both hugged his athletic frame in a way that made that scowl fall off her face.

Then he smiled. And she had one of those heart-melting, mind-numbing moments. Where she was floating on a cloud, feeling like an idiot.

Hey. He tapped his fingers on her window. Is this your home?

She blinked twice, bringing herself back to reality. He touched her window with his dirty fingers. The window she just washed before driving here. How rude! It was enough to make her fly over the edge. After a two-hour ride dealing with the anxiety of impending rain, she was not in the mood for a germ-infested stranger.

Not even a handsome one.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself she had sanitizer wipes in her purse before lowering her window. My name is Irene Shultz, and this is my home, she confirmed frostily.

He took that in with obvious amusement. Nice to meet you, Irene. My name is Doug. He reached out his hand. I want to buy this place.

Well, at least he was direct. She liked that in a person. But unfortunately for Doug, she didn’t like human contact, or germs, or the possibility of both. She ignored his outreached hand and looked him directly in the eye. The home is going for full ask. No exceptions. And you need to make an appointment with a real estate agent to see it. I’m not letting you walk around unsupervised, got it?

He dropped his hand, but not his smile. Got it.

Well then, Doug, I look forward to hearing from your agent. She pushed the button for her window to roll back up and pulled the key out of the ignition. Conversation finished. Now maybe she could explore her grandparents’ place in peace.

But when she opened her car door and stood up, she bumped right into Doug. The man was tall. She had to crane her neck back to take a look at him. And that look was quite pleasing, despite her annoyance that he hadn’t taken his cue to leave.

Is there something else I can do for you? she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

His gaze dipped below her neck and filled with interest. Maybe...

She took in his obvious attraction and blushed, which in turn made her feel foolish. She didn’t do foolish well. I think you should go, she told him, turning toward the door. I have things to do.

What about later?

Later? She turned back to him, trying to decide whether he was teasing or seriously hitting on her. She had no idea because she knew nothing about the opposite sex. Or what they thought about her. Or what she was supposed to do about what they thought about her. And if she thought about what they thought about her, would she be pleased by those thoughts or repelled by them?

How was she supposed to know? She wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to men.

I’m busy later, too, she told Doug adamantly.

That’s too bad. That amusement was back in his eyes. What about tomorrow?

She fought the urge to smile. The man was persistent. Too bad his persistence would get him nowhere. She wasn’t interested in dating or having a fling. Not in Caseville. Not with her disorder.

If you are asking me out, Doug, you’re wasting your time.

He glanced at her left hand. Why? Are you married?

She crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her fingers away. That’s none of your business.

So, you’re not. He nodded, looking highly satisfied. That’s good. What about a boyfriend? You got someone serious I should be worried about?

She blinked back at him with disbelief. Doug wasn’t persistent, he was borderline insane. And she was all the way insane. Two crazies did not make a good combo.

For the last time, I’m not interested, she said flatly. Now, get off my property.

He scratched at his chin, as if trying to figure her out. And then shrugged, as if he couldn’t. I’ll go get myself that agent, he declared.

You do that. She turned back to the door and gave in to her smile. Doug was a clown. That was for sure.

And if that clown got himself a real estate agent it would be a miracle.

CHAPTER 2

Doug didn’t take life too seriously, so he wasn’t at all deterred by Irene’s brushoff. He was enthralled with her green eyes. Obsessed with her full lips. Intrigued by the curves he saw outlined in her yellow sundress. The woman was enchanting. A blonde beauty who would get eaten alive in a town full of men.

Caseville offered everything a man could want—hunting, fishing, boating. But apparently, based on the population demographics, nothing a woman craved. At least not until the summer months when the scenic water town up north turned into a tourist haven. Then there were plenty of attractive women walking the streets in bikinis and little else. It almost made up for the nine-month drought where the closest thing a man had to cuddle to was his dog.

He’d like to cuddle up to Irene. He imagined she smelled just as sweet as she looked. And boy was she tall! Model tall. He liked that, too. Being six-foot-two, there weren’t a lot of women who could fit just underneath his chin. Irene could. He bet he could pull her into his arms and she would fit like a glove against his chest.

The only trouble was she wasn’t interested.

Or she claimed not to be. He could work on that. And while he worked on that, he could work on buying her house, too. He had been eyeing her property on Carolyn for months. The home sat just right on a canal full of fish and provided just enough space to make a man comfortable and happy. He needed space after living with his brother and nephew in a cramped apartment downtown. A two-bedroom just wasn’t big enough for three males, even if the third one was pint size. Doug wanted out.

He got into his truck, started the engine, and then took off down the road, taking a right on Crescent Beach Road. After only two miles, he pulled his truck into the parking lot of Sunshine Realty. Irene had that look of disbelief on her pretty face when he declared he would get himself