Authors: Liz Crowe
Conditional Offer
kaz
Conditional Offer (Stewart Realty, Book 5)
By
Liz Crowe
See where it all started for the Stewart Realty Series family:
Floor Time
Sweat Equity
Closing Costs
Essence of Time
Conditional Offer
Escalation Clause (Coming November 2012)
Other Standalone Titles by Liz Crowe
Available from Tri Destiny Publishing:
Vegas Miracle
Paradise Hops (Coming October 2012)
Conditional Offer (Stewart Realty Book 5)
Copyright 2012 Liz Crowe
A Tri Destiny Publishing – Sizzlin' Books Line
Cover Art Copyright 2012 by Mina Carter
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. They may not be re-sold or given away, except as provided in promotions sponsored by Tri Destiny Publishing or the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, win this copy during a promotion or, if not purchased specifically for your use only, then please delete this copy, notify us at
[email protected]
. We encourage you to purchase your own copy and support the author's hard work in their craft.
This book would not exist were it not for "Team Craig."
Maybe not as large and as rowdy as "Team Jack,"
but they do know a quiet bad boy when they spot one.
Cheers!
Dear Loyal Reader:
Conditional Offer is the 5th book in the Stewart Realty story arc and develops the relationship between Craig Robinson and Suzanne Baxter; two not-so-secondary characters from the first four books: Floor Time, Sweat Equity, Closing Costs, and Essence of Time.
Please do not attempt to jump into the Stewart saga with this book. You will be frustrated and might even not like it. And I simply will not allow that.
Also, if you are picking up this oh-so-romantic story of love and redemption between two damaged people, please realize some familiar scenes from the first books are touched on or repeated from different perspectives, with full attention on Craig and Suzanne. Hence, not all conversations will occur verbatim. We all hear things differently, so do my characters.
Well? What are you waiting for? If you haven't started the Stewart Realty saga, go get Floor Time, Sweat Equity, Closing Costs, and Essence of Time, immediately. If you are all caught up with the Stewart gang through Essence of Time... dive in. Craig tells me the water is perfect.
Love,
Liz
Contents
Chapter One
Craig held the phone to his ear and let the cheap, fake leather office chair turn him in circles as he listened to his brother rant. Doing his best to ignore him, he touched the computer mouse, and the screen flickered back to life. It glowed in the cubicle's gloom reflecting a bank statement that reminded him just how little remained of the money his father had left him. The same alarmingly low number flashed at the bottom of the page as he'd seen that morning. He sighed, rotated the chair again, and let his gaze rest on the motorbike showroom he could see through the wide expanse of glass. It was busy, but he had no energy for it anymore. A familiar, unwelcome sense of boredom, coupled with mild panic, was gaining ground in his brain. He tried to focus on the words coming from the earpiece.
"You have got to go back to school Craig," Grace took over the conversation. Married to his oldest brother, she was more like a sister than an in-law to him. She'd been part of Robinson family life for years. And as the super-surprise baby to an already large crew of sons, he'd had plenty of time with the various girlfriends, and now wives, of his brothers. They all loved nothing more than giving well-intentioned advice. He sighed, tossed a tennis ball up in the air and caught it. "You're wasting your life there doing... whatever the hell it is you're doing."
"Selling, Gracie. I'm selling. Making a living. Drawing a salary, and a decent one. Did I tell you about my new gig? We're playing in Chicago in two weeks. At the – "
"Craig. Spare me the rock band bullshit. That doesn't matter either. I mean, it does, but…" she sighed in his ear. "Damn, your brothers ruined you didn't they?"
He missed the ball, let it hit his leg and bounce away under the desk. "What? No. Don't be silly." He leaned forward on his knees, trying to force away the restless energy that coursed through him.
"They coddled you, enabled you to slide through your life. Jesus."
"Please, I'm not that lame," but at that precise moment, he felt as though he was. He put his hand over his eyes. Fighting the gloom that threatened his psyche he did a mental switch-off so Grace could keep talking and he could toss out the occasional "uh-huh" and "sure" to placate her.
They'd moved from his boyhood home in Louisville, Kentucky, to Michigan so his father could take a huge promotion at an auto company. He'd been the only kid left at home and got the not-so-special thrill of moving to a new town and a new high school in his junior year. After finishing high school pretty much a loner, he'd been on a fast track at the University of Michigan in math and science, slated to graduate in three years. The youngest by far of five boys his life had been "paved by good intentions." But right now he felt like an utter failure, and it was tempting to blame his siblings and their well-meaning spouses. He never felt the near twelve-year difference between him and his nearest age brother so keenly as he did right now.
As Grace filled him in on the latest from his rambunctious nephews, he pulled up a photo album on his laptop. There were zillions of pictures of his four older brothers, doting mother and successful but happy father. He could spend hours flipping through the virtual slideshow. With the addition of the last, total surprise child, the photos multiplied exponentially. They were a large, happy family. Plenty of blond hair, expensively straightened teeth, various shades of tanned bodies abounded at the large family home on the east side of Louisville. He stared at the ones taken later at the Grosse Pointe, Michigan house. The Christmases with the young men and their various girlfriends and then wives, the large kitchen, pool, patio, all of it rendered in living color forever and ever, amen.
One photo made him lean forward and frown. He studied his father's smiling face as he held his youngest son. Craig figured he was probably about four years old – the year he and his dad started swimming together. The man looked genuinely happy, but he, as a small boy, appeared ecstatic. He had been. Time with his almost sixty-year-old father had been hard won. His parents had been worn out by the time Craig made his appearance, and left the bulk of his supervision to the battalion of teenaged boys already in the house. But his father had started taking Craig to the local, slightly cushy, YMCA in Louisville every evening after the usual chaotic family dinner, and they had bonded to the point that Craig would nearly always associate the smell of chlorine and the bone-tired feeling you got from a long hard swim with his father.
He'd been very close to his dad, had relied on him for advice on nearly everything, treasuring their time spent swimming, and a snack afterward every week. They'd somehow avoided the usual father/son conflicts that beset his brothers and friends. When Leo Robinson died suddenly, from an aneurism in his office while Craig was halfway through his program at the University of Michigan, Craig's anchor had simply evaporated out from under him. He'd lost everything – his motivation for school, all of it. He spent a solid month in deep mourning. And now, he sold bikes, played in his band and watched his bank account dwindle – a real twenty three year old success story.
"Damn it. Are you listening to me?" His sister-in-law yelled, making him flinch from his reverie.
"No," he admitted. "Sorry." He leaned back in the creaky chair. A sudden flurry of movement in the showroom caught his eye. "I love you Grace, tell Brian I'll talk soon." He ended the call and let his brain focus on the smoking hot woman circling the Triumph Bonneville bike, a fancy-looking camera held to her face. His gaze traveled up the long, slim line of her dark-denim clad leg to the curve of her ass. Her whip thin waist was barely covered by what looked to be a cream silk blouse that lifted and pulled delectably as she knelt and rose, snapping her pictures.
He smiled, relishing the shivery feeling that shot down his spine as he stood and stretched. A colleague was making a beeline for her, but he stepped out, looked around, and slid in front of the guy. "Ah yeah, the magician," the other man said, patting his shoulder. "Go. Work it."
Craig rolled his neck around, shrugged his shoulders and shook off the loser-itis that had been gripping him. Gracie's words, he knew, meant to motivate, but only served to remind him of his failures. He did not need that shit. He was fine. And he was about to do two of his all-time favorite things: sell a bike and nail a beautiful older woman. As if reading his mind, she looked up, caught his eye. The sparkle there went directly to his libido, just where he wanted it. Her full lips and high cheekbones screamed perfection. He'd guess her to be about forty, if not a tad younger. She leaned back, and he took his time walking over to her, getting his A-game firmly in place. He was bored. Getting laid, and good, by the woman about two feet from him would shake it all loose, get his head straight. No problem.
"Taking pictures for your boyfriend?" He pointed to the camera in her hand.
"What makes you think I have one of those?" She tossed her hair back, making him bite his tongue to keep from licking his lips. He took a step closer, directly into her personal bubble, then moved past her, letting his fingers trail along the seat of the bike. The leather was soft under his palm as he put the machine between them. A small frown flickered across her face.
"Well, I would hope that someone walking around in broad daylight looking like you would have one. Otherwise, guys like me might get the wrong idea." He turned the full force of his genuine smile on her.
