Page 53 of Just What She Needed

"I didn't say you were old."

Rhys continued as though she hadn't interrupted. "We're going to do it twice."

"Twice?" And she was squeaking again.

"Twice. In public." His smile was thoroughly wicked. "Then we'll see how filthy your texts get."

20

We believed anything worth doing was worth over-doing.—Steven Tyler

“That house.” Rhett pointed out the car window.

"Oh my God." Mel shook her head as she ducked to get a better look. "Are you completely insane?"

Miffed, Rhett narrowed her eyes at the back of her sister's head. This was the second less-than-enthusiastic reaction she got when showing off the house that captured her heart. Rhys also expressed doubts about it when she pointed it out, albeit in a more tactful way than Mel.

"No, I am not insane. What the hell is wrong with people, anyway? That house is gorgeous."

Mel looked at her with one brow cocked in derision. "It's a money pit, Rhett. Just looking at it from here I can see about sixty thousand dollars worth of shit that has to be done and that’s just cosmetic. And I know this neighborhood."

"Don't even start on the neighborhood. I've done my homework, and this area is coming back. People are buying up all the old houses like this one and renovating them. Property values are going up, and it's right on the verge of being trendy again." Rhett looked past her sister to where the big, white Victorian sat behind unkempt hedges.

Everything about the house called to her, from the wraparound porch to the turret on the right side. Okay, yes, the paint was deplorable, the roof was a disaster, and none of the gingerbread trim that must have been there at one time was left. But it was still gorgeous in Rhett's eyes, and she wanted it.

"I'm not talking about the neighborhood now." Mel waved her hand in front of Rhett's face to recapture her attention. "What I meant is that for a long time this was rental city, okay? And I'm talking low-rent rentals. I'd lay good money on betting the inside of this place has been carved up into too many apartments and then trashed."

"So?" A stubborn frown turned down the corners of Rhett's mouth as she folded her arms across her chest. "It can be fixed up."

"It's not worth it, honey. It's been let go too long. Hell, before you got halfway through it you'd go through everything Dad left you."

Rhett shook her head. "It wouldn't take that much."

"Yes, Rhett, it would." Whatever she saw on her sister's face made Mel sit back with a sigh. "Look, before you do anything, have someone who knows about this kind of thing go in there with you. Call Gary if you want. He's a good general contractor. And listen to what he says."

"That's what Rhys said."

"Well, if you won't listen to me, then listen to him. Promise me you won't buy this thing until you find out what'll it take to fix it up. And that's even if it can be saved."

"Fine." Rhett uncrossed her arms and put the car in gear. "I will."

In the months since Rhys left for Illicit's tour in Australia and then Europe, Rhett busied herself looking for a place to live. The money from her father's estate meant she could raise her budget, but she was still determined to find a bargain. And the asking price for that Victorian was even less than she could have dreamed.

Even though restoring an old house was something she'd never done, she was ready to take it on. To be able to bring something neglected and abused to its former glory stirred something deep within her. To be able to also make it a home, a haven for herself, was even better. Despite the many amenities of Mel's condo, Rhett's yearning for a yard, a patio and greater privacy grew more pronounced with every day that passed.

What drove her hardest, though, was the desire to keep from stagnating. The only times she really felt alive and vibrant were the times she was with Rhys. He made her aware of herself in a way she'd never been before, and not just physically. When she was with him, she used her mind as well as her passions. But Rhys was never going to be around for long stretches of time. She knew that and she accepted it, but she was unwilling to crawl back into a quiet, timid shell of herself when he was gone. Since there were no jobs that interested her, she needed to find something to stimulate herself. And the thought of renovating a house was that something.

With one last, wistful glance at the house with which she'd fallen in love, she pulled away from the curb.

Footsteps scuffed across the hardwood floor, and Rhett turned to see Lilith shuffle into Mel's kitchen. She couldn't help but grin at her daughter's bedhead and the yawn she tried to hide behind her hand.

"Merry Christmas, sleepyhead." Rhett gestured behind her. "Fresh pot of coffee over there."

"Thanks, Mom. Merry Christmas." Moving at the speed of snail, Lilith crossed the kitchen and took one of the mugs Rhett had set out on the counter earlier. After a few sips of coffee, she lifted her head and sniffed the air. "Biscuits?"

"In the oven keeping warm." Rhett dumped a plate of crumbled, cooked sausage into the skillet in which she'd just prepared homemade gravy.

"Whoa, is that Granny's sausage gravy?" More alert, Lilith came to stand beside her mother and peer into the pan. "Is it ready yet?"