The First Time I Saw You

The First Time I Saw You, Chapter 2

His hair was damp, and he was wearing his only clean pair of jeans, a faded pair with a tear in the thigh, as he tied up the black garbage bag and then ran his hand over the teal granite of his island counter in the kitchen. It was one of the best rooms in the house since he'd renovated and rebuilt it, opening it up to the living and dining room to make it open. The white cabinets with glass fronts gave it a high-end look, as did the gas stove and pot filler. The new stainless-steel appliances were the icing on the cake and one of the many reasons he needed to rent out a piece of this house. The reno had been expensive, especially given all the problems he'd discovered behind the walls on demolition.

He glanced at the clock, then down at his phone on the counter, seeing he still had no calls. Not one call for the room other than the lady coming now. What the hell? He'd expected to have his phone blowing up with messages, considering the price and the lack of places to rent. For his sake, he hoped biker dude wasn't showing up with the lady. Even better, he hoped the lady coming now was no relation. If she was his sister, he'd show her around, take her references, and walk her the hell out of there.

He picked up the black garbage bag. It was almost seven, judging by the large centerpiece clock on the otherwise bare living room wall, and he ran his hand over his bare chest. Yeah, he still needed to find a shirt, a clean one, which he'd do right after he tucked the garbage in the can outside. He pulled open the front door and stopped, taking in the long dark hair and slim curves of a gorgeous woman. She was holding the hand of what seemed to be a little girl of three or four, maybe.

"Uh, hi," he said, running his hand over his bare chest again and seeing that her eyes went straight there and then up. Her big bold eyes were the color of toffee, and she didn't smile. Her gaze didn't linger on him at all, either.

"I called about the room to rent," she said. "My name is Elizabeth Abercrombie." She actually held out her hand. He took in the garbage he was holding and switched it to his other hand before giving his free one a quick wipe on his jeans and checking it to make sure it was clean. He took her slender hand in his, surprised by the firm handshake.

"Gabriel Friessen," he said, still holding her hand as he glanced down at the little girl again. She was looking up at him with the same eyes and a shoulder-length mop of out-of-control curls.

Elizabeth pulled her hand away, and he glanced over her head to the street, seeing only his faded blue pickup out front before dragging his gaze back to the attractive woman, who still wasn't smiling.

"I didn't hear a car," he said as she pulled her hand away.

"We took the bus," she said. He noticed the big purse over her shoulder, light tan and black. She had no rings on her fingers.

"I just need to dump this in the trash can," he explained and stepped outside onto the front porch, taking in her cutoffs and loose white shirt. Gorgeous legs, too.

She pointed at the garbage bag in his hand, maybe because he was staring a few seconds too long. "You said you were going to put that in the garbage," she said as if he needed a reminder.

"Right." He strode barefoot down the steps, knowing he was staring and acting like...well, like a man who'd lost his reasoning. She was nothing like what he'd been expecting. She definitely couldn't be related to the biker dude, because she was gorgeous, a sweet girl-next-door package. He felt a moment of relief as he pulled open the garbage can by the front gate and dumped the bag in.

"This is a very nice porch," she said. "You don't see many houses anymore with these old-fashioned columns. It's nice, and it's great that this house is close to the bus stop." She was looking at the freshly painted white columns, the brand-new rail, and the finished deck, which had one red and white lawn chair, the only outdoor furnishing he could afford.