Too Dangerous Read online

  “Okay, but, come over for dinner tonight, yeah? Laurel’s missing you.”

  “Sure, I can do that. Let her know I’ll bring the wine.”

  I said, “Goodbye,” and headed out, excited to look at a couple houses on my break.

  I put the first address into my GPS and felt a ripple of happy nerves. Turning onto the lane off of the main road, you couldn’t see the house from the street, which I liked. The road was paved and lined with trees, and when it opened up, I could see a beautiful white colonial home, with a manicured lawn, blooming flowers, and a little shed out back.

  It was perfect.

  Complete with a while picket fence, a long porch with rocking chairs and more flowers, and a swinging bench hanging from a tree in the front yard.

  I told myself not to fall in love …. Not only was it the first house, but I hadn’t even seen the inside yet. But, I was afraid it was too late. My heart tripped in my chest and landed right at my feet on the pretty green grass.

  The sound of a door opening had me swinging my gaze to the font of the house.

  “You must be Jasmine,” the pretty blonde said as she stepped onto the porch. “I’m Gloria.”

  I walked to the house and up the steps to shake the realtor’s outstretched hand.

  “This is gorgeous,” I told her, taking it all in.

  “Isn’t it? I just love it.”

  Gloria held the door open, indicating I should go inside.

  “This house has only had one owner, Imogene Rankle. Sadly, she passed away a few months ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Open floor plan, with new appliances in the kitchen. Now, the bathrooms could stand some updating, and the shed outside needs reinforcement, but those are things that could be done over time. Go ahead and look around. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  As I moved through the rooms, I fell harder.

  Four bedrooms, three upstairs, with the master on main. Three and a half baths. The kitchen was beautiful, with stainless steel appliances and marble countertops that would make Laurel scream with excitement. There was also an unfinished basement and a two-car garage. Plenty of room to grow and the ability to make changes and updates to get it exactly how I wanted it, or eventually, how we wanted it.

  I knew it wasn’t practical or necessarily advisable to go with the first and only house I’d seen, but I was a big believer in following my gut. And, my gut was telling me this was the house I was meant to own.

  I went back into the kitchen, where Gloria was waiting, my eyes snagging lovingly on the fireplace in the den.

  “It’s gorgeous, right?” Gloria said with a smile, but then her lips turned down as she looked at the paperwork in front of her.

  “Yes, I love it,” I said, her expression causing my stomach to tighten.

  “Now, I contacted the listing agent while you were looking around and she asked if I’d read over the stipulations in the notes … Since we moved so quickly this morning, I hadn’t noticed it.”

  “Stipulations?” I asked warily.

  “Mmmm,” Gloria said, her eyes on the papers. “Turns out Ms. Imogene had never been married or had any children. She’d been a businesswoman who bought this home in her early thirties, when she was engaged. The marriage never happened and she ended up living here alone until she suffered a heart attack thirty years later.”

  “Oh, that’s so sad,” I said, looking around and sympathizing with Imogene.

  “Apparently, she thought it was a disservice to the house and the land to not have children running the grounds … a family filling these walls.”

  “I don’t understand,” I replied, totally understanding Imogene’s thoughts, since I’d had the same ones, but not getting what that had to do with the sale of the house.

  “Her stipulation is that the house can only be sold to a married couple, or a family.”

  “What?” I asked, my jaw dropping.

  Gloria nodded.

  “Imogene was a very successful woman and owned the house outright, so it isn’t owned by a bank or lender. She wishes the home to be on the market for ten years, during which it will be maintained by an agency, and if we cannot find buyers, it will be donated to the local children’s hospital.”

  “That can’t be legal,” I protested.

  “I take it you’re single?”

  I gave a sharp nod.

  “Well, not to worry, we still have a couple more houses to see, and, if you’re status changes, you can let me know.”

  Shane

  “Thanks for the invite,” I said, stooping to kiss Laurel on the cheek before handing her the flowers I’d brought.

  It may seem silly to bring flowers to the woman who owned a flower shop and party planning company, but I was raised to never arrive at someone’s house empty-handed, and since I bought them at her shop, I figured I was safe.

  “You’re welcome anytime, you know that.”

  Laurel looked gorgeous, with her perfectly round belly and long blonde hair flowing and healthy around her shoulders.

  I’d been resigned to another night off alone in my studio apartment, watching Rake on Netflix, when I’d run into Laurel in the market. I’d been picking up a few items to get me through the week and got behind her in line at checkout.

  She’d taken one look at my basket and told me to come over for dinner. Being a single man who never turned down a homecooked meal, I’d happily agreed.

  “Shane, how’s it going, man?” Dillon asked, coming up behind Laurel when we stepped inside. “Can I get you a beer?”

  “Yeah, I could use a cold one, thanks,” I said with a grin.

  I followed them into the kitchen and crouched down when their golden retrievers, Copper and Penny, came over for some attention.

  I was rubbing them both down, telling them how beautiful they were and thinking how much I’d love to have a place that would allow dogs, when I heard the front door open and someone call out.

  “You are not going to believe this…”

  Recognizing the voice as Jasmine’s, I gave the dogs one last pat and stood, turning toward the entry to the kitchen so I could watch her walk in.

  She did not disappoint.

  “I saw the perfect house today, and … get this … I can’t buy it because I’m single. What is this, the fifties? How can it possibly be legal to say I’m not fit to buy a house because I don’t have a husband or kids? I’m so mad I could scream.”

  I bit back a grin as I watched her.

  Her cheeks were flushed, her green eyes sparkling with temper, and her fists were clenched at her sides.

  She looked ready to take on the world, and I had no doubt she could do it.

  She was magnificent.

  “What? You’re buying a house?” Laurel asked, rushing over to her best friend and putting a soothing arm over her shoulder.

  “I just found out today. I was going to tell you, but figured Jazzy would fill us both in when she came over,” Dillon told his wife as he handed me a beer.

  “Thanks,” I said, my eyes never leaving Jasmine, so I watched as her head swung my way and her vision cleared.

  “Oh, Shane, I didn’t know you were here,” she said, and just like that the fire had been extinguished. “Sorry about my entrance.”

  “No worries,” I assured her with a grin. “Sounds like you had a bad day.”

  “Is that really what they said, that you couldn’t buy a house because you’re single?” Laurel asked.

  “Yes, can you believe it? What kind of archaic stipulation is that?” Jazzy asked, letting out a puff of breath. “I stopped by Reardon’s office on the way here, hoping he could help me, and guess what?”

  “He helped the owner write the stipulation…” Dillon guessed.

  “Yup,” Jasmine said with a sneer. “Freakin’ Ass. Of course, he made it ironclad, too.”

  “And, he said it’s legal to only offer the house to heterosexual couples? That doesn’t seem right,” Lau
rel said with a frown, her arm tightening around Jasmine.

  “No, not just heterosexual couples. They can be anyone as long as they’re in a legal, committed relationship. The owner, Imogene, originally bought the house with her fiancé, but never ended up getting married or having kids, so she had no one to leave it to. She wants to make sure the house goes to a family, and, hopefully, stays in that family for generations to come.”

  “But, even if it did go to a couple, or family, there’s no way to know if the family would keep the home forever,” I said, thinking the whole thing sounded batty.

  “Yeah, I said the same thing to Rear. He said, no, of course she couldn’t know that, or have any control over it, but she could control at least the possibility it could happen. And, since she ended up alone, she didn’t want to take the chance on someone else who wasn’t already in a committed relationship.”

  “That’s terrible, I’m so sorry. It’s obvious you really wanted the house, but if Reardon says it’s ironclad, then it is,” Dillon said, causing his sister to frown at him. “Sorry, Jazz, but I’m sure you’ll find something else just as great.”

  Jasmine pouted prettily, and I couldn’t help but wish I could take her into my arms and comfort her myself.

  Instead, I joked, “I’d be happy to step up to the plate and marry you so you get the house of your dreams.”

  Jasmine rolled her eyes and looked to her brother.

  “Can I get one of those?” she asked, nodding at the beer in my hand.

  “You got it,” he said.

  Before he could turn, Jasmine shot me a smirk, then added, “Oh, and last night, Shane offered to give Laurel back rubs whenever she wants.”

  Laurel looked at me, her face lighting up.

  “Really? That sounds great. My lower back hurts all the time.”

  “Absolutely, why don’t you go grab some oil and lay on the couch,” I offered, not bothering to fight back a grin.

  I didn’t have to turn to know Dillon was glaring at me; I could feel the heat of his stare on the back of my head.

  “You go anywhere near my wife with oil, or anything else, and you’re a dead man.”

  “Sorry, sweets,” I told Laurel with a shrug, “Guess your man will need to step up and take care a you himself.”

  “I’ll hold him to it.”

  Jasmine

  I’m not gonna lie … when Shane made that joke about marrying me so I could get the house, I’d felt a weird tightening in my chest. Sure, I’d played it off, but a small part of me had wanted to stick out my hand and shout, “Deal!”

  If only he weren’t such a sexy playboy.

  It’s not like I could blame him. With that face, body, and accent, women had been throwing themselves at him since the second he’d landed on US soil.

  Hell, I’d had a couple fantasies about him myself.

  The first time Gabe had brought him home from college, I’d thought for sure someone had snatched him right out of my dreams and formed him just for me. Then he’d opened his mouth, and I swear, I’d come a little right there in Aunt Annabeth’s kitchen.

  Luckily, no one had noticed, because it had soon become very apparent that the man was a huge flirt and fucked anyone with tits.

  My young teenaged heart had been devastated when I’d seen him moving from girl to girl at Gabe’s welcome home party, lavishing them with the same charm and smiles that I’d thought had been only for me.

  As the years went on, we all grew up, but nothing changed.

  Shane was still quick to charm the pants off every woman he came in contact with. I’d learned to ignore it, joining the fun and flirting back whenever we hung out, but never being foolish enough to take anything he said or did seriously.

  Still, the first emotion I had at the thought of marrying him was surprisingly … joy.

  “Thanks so much for helping with the dishes. I’ve been feeling so tired lately that I probably would have talked myself into waiting until morning to do them, then I would have been kicking myself when I woke up to a mess.”

  “Dillon would have helped, he’s always been good in the kitchen,” I replied, wiping my hands on the kitchen towel before turning to Laurel. “Unless you’re letting him slack off. Don’t do it, Laurel. You know Dillon, he’ll take any inch you give him, and turn it into a mile.”

  Laurel laughed.

  “Don’t I know it,” she said with an affectionate smile.

  She’d been in love with Dillon since we were nine years old, and I was really happy Dillon had finally been able to look past our childhood pranks to appreciate her as a woman, and realize they belonged together.

  Now, my best friend was my sister, and I couldn’t be happier.

  “No, he does help a lot, I just knew he wanted to talk to Shane about the whole visa thing, and said we’d give them some time alone.”

  I scrunched up my nose and asked, “What visa thing?”

  “You haven’t heard?”

  I shook my head.

  Laurel tilted her head toward the breakfast nook and went to sit down, letting a little sigh escape once she was off her feet.

  When I joined her, she leaned in a bit and told me in a hushed tone, “I guess since he finished his Masters, but doesn’t have a job lined up, he can’t get a new visa, or an extension on the one he had or school. He’s going to have to go back to Australia … for good.”

  “What? No, no one has said anything about this to me. I had no idea. Poor Shane,” I said, then thought about my cousin, Gabe, who was still close to him, and added, “And, poor Gabe!”

  “I know, all the guys are really upset over it. Shane’s great … everyone loves him. Cherry Springs won’t be the same with him gone.”

  I nodded, imagining what it would be like to walk into the bar and grill for dinner and no longer see Shane flirting with the customers, or giving me one of his signature grins. The vision sucked.

  “This is terrible.”

  “Yeah, I wish there was something we could do to help, but Reardon has been looking into it for a few weeks now, and hasn’t been able to come up with anything.”

  We sat at the table for a few more moments, catching up on other things, but I could tell she was exhausted, so made my excuses and decided to go home.

  Dillon and Shane were talking in his office, so I just shouted out, “Good night,” before I left and let them finish their conversation.

  The whole drive home I couldn’t stop thinking about Shane’s predicament, and mine, and as I drove I realized there was one way for us to both get what we wanted.

  With crazy ideas running through my head, I let myself into my apartment and went straight to the TV. Once there, I searched Green Card and The Proposal and added them both to my que.

  Mind still scrambling, I grabbed my laptop, then decided to open a bottle of wine.

  Once I had my favorite throw, a glass of wine, with the bottle next to it for easy access, and my laptop fired up, I snuggled into the couch and pressed play. I watched one movie, then the other, only pausing to run to the bathroom, and to grab a notebook and pen, before rushing back to the couch and finishing the films.

  Once they were over, I opened Chrome and began doing research.

  The movies were good for surface info, but being fictionalized romances meant they weren’t very realistic. No, I needed to read the regulations and gather as much pertinent information as I could.

  I’d never actually seen anyone outside of the big screen enter into a marriage of convenience, but knew they must happen all the time.

  I searched the laws, looked into the consequences, and researched timelines.

  It was after two in the morning before I shut my laptop, closed my notebook, and turned off the TV.

  When I laid my head on my pillow, there was a smile on my face.

  I was going to get that house, and Shane would be staying in America, because tomorrow … I am asking him to marry me.

  Shane

  I was dreaming that I wa
s on the court, shooting hoops with the guys. The ball banged on the floor while I went in for a shot, and then suddenly, it was banging louder … faster … until I woke up with a start, wondering how I was able to dribble so fast.

  That’s when I realized someone was pounding on my front door.

  “Shane,” a high voice called through the door.

  Definitely female.

  I shook myself awake and heaved myself out of bed, running my palm over my hair, then down my face as I shuffled to the door with a yawn.

  I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I really wasn’t expecting Jasmine, so when I opened the door to find her standing there, all sunny and gorgeous, it took a few minutes for my brain to compute what my eyes were seeing.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said cheerfully, which was incredibly strange.

  Not only had Jasmine never been to my apartment, but she’d never greeted me with a smile like that.

  I watched her, blinking sleepily, unconsciously running my hand over my naked chest as I struggled to understand what was happening.

  Jasmine had coffee in both hands and one was outstretched to me.

  Weird.

  Maybe I’m still sleeping.

  “Shane,” Jazzy prompted, pushing the cup toward me. “Coffee.”

  “Oh, uh, thanks,” I managed, taking the cup from her. “Sorry, I was asleep. Do you want to come in?”

  “Sure,” she said, stepping past me to go inside.

  I turned, in a fog, and looked at her in my apartment. I’d always imagined her here, so I took a moment to appreciate that it was really happening.

  The only question was … why?

  I shut the door and looked into to the kitchen at the clock on the microwave.

  It was six in the morning. Being a bartender who usually worked nights, I didn’t see this time of day unless I was just getting home and about to crash.

  “What brings you by this morning?” I asked, watching as she moved around my studio apartment, looking around at the meager floor plan.

  It was your basic studio, with a totally open concept.