Flipping for Her

By Alex Winters

The last place Eden Sampson wants to be right now is home. Not that it ever felt that way, of course, but the time has come to finally sell the old homestead and seek closure from her dysfunctional, borderline abusive childhood. With contracts galore hanging in the balance back at her influencer management group in Nashville, Eden's impatient to get the house remodeled and on the market, once and for all. That is, until she meets her sexy young house stager.
 
Scout Mackenzie is excited for her new gig, staging one of the last legacy properties she's had her eyes on ever since starting her business years earlier. But when she comes face to face with Eden, an ice queen of a client, the job takes an unexpected turn in more ways than one.
 
Now both women must decide which comes first: their romantic lives or making a living. For these two High Stakes Heroines, choosing love over their bank accounts will be a costly decision ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Jun 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9781685507671

Alex Winters

Alex Winters is the pseudonym of a busy restaurant manager whose curious young staff would love nothing more than to follow him around the dining room reading his steamiest, most romantic passages aloud! When not writing romantic holiday stories of various heat levels, he enjoys long walks with his wife, scary movies and smooth jazz. Visit him at www.awintersromance.com to see what stories are brewing up next!

Book preview

Flipping for Her

By Alex Winters

Published by JMS Books LLC

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2024 Alex Winters

ISBN 9781685507671

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author's imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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Flipping for Her

By Alex Winters

Chapter 1

Eden

When's the last time you came home, Eden?

Eden Sampson stood on the front porch of her childhood home and watched as her family's longtime realtor, Ronald Ralston, wriggled the doorknob this way and that until it finally gave. He swung the door open, a stale, musty smell coming from inside, as if family baggage had its own odor, but made no move to enter. Instead, he waited, pale blue eyes peering into hers behind the thick lenses of his horn-rimmed glasses.

Seems to me it would have been my first winter break after going away to school? Eden pretended to be troubled by the question, even though she knew good and well the last time she'd been home to visit. To say nothing of why she'd vowed never to return until, well, now.

Until it was all over, once and for all.

Despite being one of her father's rich, Republican cronies, Mr. Ralston--despite their current business arrangement, Eden still had a hard time calling him by his first name--reserved judgment with a quiet, almost understanding nod. No doubt he'd gotten a fill of her father's drunken, angry bluster over the years and understood why she might not have rushed home every year to join in the family dysfunction. A lot's changed in Pine Ridge since then, Eden.

She followed his watery gaze past the front yard, rich with early spring greenery, to the road beyond. Where it had once been gravel, and rarely used, a freshly paved two-lane street looked pristine and ready for visitors. As if on cue, a Jeep full of youthful hikers, their big brown boots visible even from the front porch, trundled past, blaring jam band music at Mach ten. The lively group prepared to journey up nearby Majestic Mountain for a day full of hiking at one of the many campgrounds featured along the scenic trail to the summit, a few thousand feet above.

I can see that, she murmured, both of them watching a food truck from one of the new gastropubs lining downtown State Street as it followed the noisy Jeep, no doubt on its way to one of the local breweries for Food Truck Friday. That's why I feel it's such a good time to sell, Mr. Ralston.

He finally gave her a fatherly frown. Please, Eden. Gone are the days your father and I used to coach your softball team. Call me Ronald.

His eyes were warm and soft, so unlike her father's. Eden nodded, biting down on her lower lip to stem the tide of sudden emotion that had accompanied her first trip home in nearly a decade.

Sure, Ronald, she said, stiffening slightly as he nodded toward the front door--and what waited just beyond. Shall we?

He got the hint, and held the door open for her as she whisked inside, her high heels clattering on the hardwood floors beneath. She had come straight from work, having spent most of the night and half that morning brokering a deal for one of her young, if successful clients, and in the process never thought to change for her meeting with Mr. Ralston.

Now her stylish heels clattered over the well-worn floors, the cloying feel of the old homestead seizing her with unpleasant memories and bittersweet emotions. Her father yelling. Always and ever yelling. Her mother, weak-willed and petty, either joining in or standing to one side, allowing it. In either case, the betrayal only doubled the pain, leaving her without one single ounce of unconditional love in a home as empty as the emotions she felt whenever she thought of her parents.

Such as they were.

Eden sighed, gritted her teeth and stood in the middle of the sunken living room, stylish in nature but sullied by the big, bulky, basic furniture her bellowing father had always favored. Remnants of a bygone era, in more ways than one.

In one corner, the traces of her mother's brief illness still remained: an IV stand, a portable bathroom chair, dry shampoo for her brittle, gray hair and a walker off to one side, gathering dust. Ronald followed her eyes and was quick to step in front of the unpleasant site. Shit, I thought the medical delivery folks had come to pick those up by now, he murmured, tapping out a quick text on his sleek cell phone as she gazed elsewhere. We'll have that taken care of by end of day, Eden, sorry about that.

See that you do, she said, almost mechanically, as if holding court during a staff meeting high atop her penthouse office in downtown Nashville. While Ronald pecked out demands on his trusty cell, Eden's eyes glanced over the rest of the cabin--the generic mountain climbing wall art, the water-stained mirrors, the vaulted ceilings and upstairs loft, trying to picture it scrubbed clean of the last decade and ready for resale to some upscale hipster couple or forward-thinking rental agency.

It was nice of you, Ronald said, their eyes meeting once more as Eden stood her ground, unable--or perhaps just unwilling--to step any further into the domicile than the threshold of the sunken living room. To get your mother into the best rehab facility in North Carolina.

Least I could do, she murmured, recalling those last few visits before her mother had been transferred to the hospice wing of the local hospital, once and for all. I didn't want her to spend her last days here, alone, you know?

Ronald stood nearby, clearly giving up on the house tour they'd agreed to take before Eden realized what a return visit might mean for her recently healed psyche. After your father passed, it didn't take your mother long to succumb.

Their eyes met in the dim light of the family living room. "Shame she couldn't have enjoyed more of a life without him," she blurted in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability, wondering if perhaps she wasn't talking about herself as well.

Ronald was smiling uncertainly when their eyes met once again. She softened, slightly, at the vague look of alarm in his watery blue eyes. Sorry, she murmured, waving a brisk hand around the living room. Lots of baggage here, that's all.

I get it, Eden. Honestly, I do. Your father couldn't have been an easy man to live with. There was a slight pause then, as if to match the urgent hitch in Ronald's throat