House-sitting Setup

Mason Keller eased his beat-up sedan into the driveway of the Fernwood house and killed the engine. The place looked exactly like the photos Chris had texted him, a sprawling two-story with a manicured lawn and that little fountain bubbling near the front walk. He grabbed his duffel from the passenger seat, slung it over his shoulder, and let himself in with the spare key his roommate had left under the mat. The air inside smelled faintly of lavender and something sweeter, like vanilla candles. It felt strange being here without Chris, but the timing had worked out. Chris was off on that internship across the state, and Liana needed someone to keep an eye on the place while she handled a string of late showings.

He dropped his bag by the stairs and wandered through the downstairs, taking it in. The living room was clean but lived-in, with a big sectional facing a flat screen and a few framed photos on the mantel, mostly of Chris at various ages. Mason paused at one showing Liana with her arm around her son at graduation. She looked radiant, dark hair loose over her shoulders, that confident smile that always made him look twice. He shook the thought off. This was his best friend’s mom. He was here to water plants and check the mail, nothing more.

Upstairs he claimed the guest room at the end of the hall, the one Chris had said was fine. The bed was made with crisp sheets, and a window overlooked the backyard pool. Mason unpacked quickly, folding shirts into the dresser and plugging in his laptop on the nightstand. He was just testing the Wi-Fi when he heard the front door open downstairs.

“Mason? You here already?” Liana’s voice carried up the stairs, warm and a little surprised.

He headed down to meet her. She stood in the foyer, still in her real estate clothes, a tailored white blouse tucked into a pencil skirt that hugged every curve. The top few buttons were undone, revealing a hint of cleavage that made his mouth go dry. Her long dark hair was pinned up, a few strands escaping to frame her face, and her heels clicked on the tile as she set down her briefcase.

“Hey, Mrs. Fernwood. Yeah, just got in a few minutes ago. Hope that’s okay.”

She smiled, and it reached her eyes. “Liana, please. Mrs. Fernwood makes me feel ancient, and we’re past that. You’re Chris’s roommate, not some kid I’m meeting at a PTA meeting.” She stepped closer and gave him a quick once-over. “You look good. Settled in already?”

“Yeah, guest room’s perfect. Thanks again for letting me crash here. Chris said the pool’s fair game too.”

“Of course. Make yourself at home.” She kicked off her heels with a sigh, and her posture softened. “I need to change out of this. Showings ran late today. Feel free to grab a drink from the fridge while I’m upstairs.”

She disappeared up the stairs, and Mason moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge to find it stocked with beer and a bottle of white wine. He grabbed a water instead, trying not to overthink the fact that he was alone in the house with her. When she came back down, the professional armor was gone. She wore a loose tank top that dipped low between her full breasts and a pair of soft shorts that showed off smooth, toned legs. The fabric clung just enough to remind him how curvy she was, and he had to force his eyes back to her face.

“Much better,” she said, pulling her hair down so it spilled over her shoulders. “You hungry? I was thinking of throwing together some pasta. Nothing fancy, but it beats eating alone.”

“Sure, I can help.”

They moved around the kitchen together, Liana directing him to chop vegetables while she boiled water. The conversation started light, about Chris’s internship and how quiet the house felt without him. Then she poured them each a glass of wine and leaned against the counter, swirling her glass.

“I should probably tell you, things have been a little different around here lately. I’m recently single. Divorce finalized a couple months ago. Chris knows, obviously, but I figured you should too since you’ll be here a while.”

Mason paused with the knife. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t be. It was mutual in the end, and I’m doing fine. Better than fine, really. Just means the house is mine to run however I want.” She gave him a small smile, but there was something sharper behind it. “Anyway, enough about that. How’s school treating you?”

They kept talking while the sauce simmered. She asked about his classes, his plans after graduation, and he answered easily at first. But then the compliments started, light at first.

“You’ve filled out since the last time I saw you,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his bicep lightly. Her fingers lingered a second longer than necessary. “Chris always said you were the quiet one, but you’re turning into quite the man.”

Heat crept up Mason’s neck. “Thanks. Just trying to stay active between classes.”

Liana laughed softly, a low sound that settled in his chest. “Modest too. That’s rare. Most guys your age would be bragging nonstop.” She brushed past him to reach for a plate, her hip grazing his thigh. The contact was brief, but it sent a spark straight through him. He caught the faint scent of her perfume, something floral and warm.

During dinner they sat across from each other at the island. The banter grew easier, more playful. She teased him about his college stories, and he found himself relaxing despite the way her tank top shifted every time she reached for her glass, offering glimpses of smooth skin and the edge of a lace bra. When she laughed at one of his jokes, she touched his forearm again, thumb tracing a small circle before she pulled back.

“You’re easy to talk to, Mason. I like that.” Her eyes held his for a beat too long. “Chris is lucky to have a friend like you around. Keeps things interesting.”

Mason swallowed, pulse kicking up. He knew he should steer the conversation back to safe ground, mention Chris more, but the way she looked at him, open and appraising, made it hard to think straight. “I’m just glad I could help with the house. It’s a nice place. Feels good to be somewhere different for the summer.”

She leaned forward slightly, elbows on the counter, and the neckline of her tank dipped lower. “Different can be good. Sometimes it’s exactly what you need.” Her smile turned teasing again. “You should relax while you’re here. No rules except the ones you make.”

The words hung between them, charged. Mason felt the first real tug of something dangerous, something he knew he should ignore. Liana just took another sip of wine, watching him over the rim of her glass, clearly enjoying the effect she was having. The rest of the meal passed with more light touches and lingering looks, each one testing the air between them a little further. By the time they cleared the plates, Mason’s mind was already racing ahead to what the next few weeks might hold.