A moment for you
Brett took Jen’s hand and she felt a sizzle of attraction”
On the hunt for furniture at a neighbor’s estate sale, Jen Parker is armed and ready to haggle her way to the perfect piece for her new sunroom. But when Brett Davis meets her eye, she finds something she didn’t bargain on: a new chance at love
en was on a mission.
Hoping for first pick at an estate sale for her elderly neighbor, Winny Davis, she set out at sunrise to find the perfect seating for her tiny sunroom and her even tinier budget. She’d been searching for months with no luck, but now she was ready to deal.
Just a few blocks from home, she saw the sign and felt a rush of adrenaline. This could be the day I find what I’m looking for, thought Jen, quickly pulling over to the curb.
But just as quickly, Jen’s enthusiasm fizzled. Her heart was set on Victorian wicker, yet the items lining the entryway to the house were decidedly the man-cave variety. Undaunted, she walked past the barbells and ski equipment until, suddenly, she spotted something behind the table that got her heart pumping. Now that was something she wanted.
And it was definitely not for sale.
He was tall and dark with a bloom of lashes visible 10 feet away.
As he handed change to a customer, the lush-lidded proprietor caught Jen staring, and a slow smile crossed his slightly stubbled jaw. “Can I help you find something?”
“I’m not sure you have what I’m looking for,” said Jen. Liar, she corrected herself. He has exactly what you’re looking for.
“Give me a shot.” His coy smile twitched. A man who likes a challenge? “Okay,” said Jen, warming to the exchange. “I’m looking for a piece for my sunroom.”
“Did you see the lounge chair? It’s comfy—perfect for stargazing and
watching snow fall,” he added, taking a sip of coffee from the paper cup in his hand. “No offense, but I’m more a fan of the vintage look,” said Jen.
“No offense taken,” he said, coming around to her side of the table and taking a dramatic bow. “Brett Davis, Winny’s son, at your service. What is this vintage furniture you seek?”
Jen laughed, appreciating his humor. She also appreciated the way his biceps rippled through his denim shirt. Someone made good use of those barbells, she mused.
“Jen Parker. My style…let’s call it shabby chic. If it’s wicker and white, I love it.”
Brett looked like a light bulb flashed in his head. “I just might have what you’re looking for, Ms. Parker.” He released an impish grin, wiggling his eyebrows conspiratorially. “Follow me.”
Gently, Brett took Jen’s hand, and she felt a flash of her own as the sizzle of attraction sparked through her. Is this just charming salesmanship? she wondered as they wove their way through the throngs of people toward the cluttered garage. Or could it be something more?
Brett guided her through the maze of power tools and books and across the street to a red truck. Then, releasing her hand, he pulled down the hatch. Inside, was a white wicker love seat. French country design. Just a bit shabby. Perfectly chic.
Jen was in awe. “That’s amazing! It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.”
Brett beamed. “Then it’s yours. It’s Mom’s. She shares your love of wicker, but this just didn’t fit in her new condo. I hadn’t gotten around to taking the seat off my truck yet.” His deep brown eyes sought hers. “And I’m glad I didn’t.”
Jen felt her bargaining bravado melt in the heat of Brett’s gaze. She looked again at the beautiful settee. Based on the condition and craftsmanship, this was going to cost her. “How much are you asking, Brett?”
Brett rubbed his chin and thought for a second. “Let’s go with 10 bucks.”
All Jen’s negotiating pretense evaporated. “Brett, it’s worth so much more!”
“My mother gave strict instructions. The love seat should go to someone who loves it as much as she does. She’d be happy that it’s going home with you.”
Jen felt the earnestness of Brett’s words. “Please tell your mother that I’m honored to have her beautiful chair. Now, I just have to get it home…could you keep it until I borrow a van?”
“I could, but this is a full-service estate sale.” Brett grinned. “I’d be happy to deliver it myself.”
“I at least owe you something for your wonderful customer service,” teased Jen.
Brett looked down at the crumply, stained coffee cup in his hand and laughed.
“How about a real cup of coffee and a visit on that vintage chair in its new home? I have fond memories growing up with that love seat. I’d love to help you break it in.”
Yes, please! thought Jen, feeling another rush of adrenaline. She’d found what she was looking for and so much more.
Jen smiled, gazing into Brett’s inviting eyes. “It’s a deal.”