Page 246 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“I know the list of requirements can be overwhelming, so know that you aren’t the only one who feels that way.” Sympathy resonates in his voice.

“That’s good to know. Since I’ve never applied for a loan before, I thought I was the only one.”

“No. Not at all. Is there anything I can help you with?”

My laugh is part mortification, part reprieve. “Really?”

“Of course. Since you decided to forego having a broker represent you—”

“Only because I know the owners of Blue Skies and they preferred not to use one,” I feel the need to explain for what seems like the tenth time. What he doesn’t need to know is the lack of a broker was my idea. I simply won’t have the extra funds to pay them their fees once the deal is done. I’m stretched thin as it is.

“No need to explain, Emerson. It isn’t always necessary to have a broker. Besides, I told you I’d walk you through everything step by step, and I will.”

My shoulders sag in relief. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it. You don’t know how much this means to me to have found—”

“No need to thank me.”

“I still feel I should.”

“How about this? How about we meet for a working dinner? It will give me a chance to review everything with you and answer the questions you have.”

“I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“Nonsense. It’s just one of the many services I provide my clients.”

I chew my bottom lip, torn between pride and necessity. The silence stretches. “That would be great. I’d appreciate it.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.” He laughs, and I can hear a horn honk in the background. “I’m driving so I can’t access my schedule. Let me check it and I’ll email you some dates and times that will work.”

“That sounds great. Again, Chris . . . thank you.”

“You smell like smoke.” I glance over to my little brother Grady and make a show of sniffing the air before bringing the beer to my lips.

“Occupational hazard,” he says before lifting his chin to where our dad is attempting not to burn steaks on the grill while he shoots the shit with Grayson, our middle brother. “We were doing drills today over at the old gravel yard. I guess I didn’t wash all the smoke off.”

“Hmm,” I murmur, part listening, part lost in thought.

“So, you gonna tell me why you bailed on coming over on the Fourth? I hope like hell she was worth missing out on Mom’s apple pie.” He chuckles. “I guess you enjoyed a different kind of pie, huh?”

“You’re the firefighter, why don’t you go help Dad put those flames out.” Diversion intended to get conversation away from my sex life, but I’m not sure he’s going to buy it. My brothers are nosey fuckers.

He sits there silent for a moment, and I can feel the weight of his stare as I look at the flames flare up on the old Weber again.

“So, you didn’t get laid?” he questions.

“Nah.” Another sip of beer. Another push with my foot to rock the porch swing I’m sitting on.

“What’s the deal, then?”

“Nothing really. It was a long day, and then I ended up chasing ghosts for a bit and lost track of time is all.” I shrug. It’s close enough to the truth.

“You should have just told us you got lost in a call. Is it one I know about?”

“Nah.”

He chuckles. “Are you being a dick, or are you trying to be vague on purpose?”

I’m not trying to be a dick, but I know that once I say something to him, it will become a Malone family free-for-all topic of discussion.