Page 190 of Little Sunshine

I didn’t need to.

The first room made it clear.

“Oh my God,” she hissed, turning her wild eyes from the room to me. “Is this…? Is it…?”

“A brothel?” I filled in. “Yes.”

Each of the four rooms at the front had a different theme and supplies left behind that I didn’t get close to, much less touch.

“Why even look at this place?” she asked. Her gaze shot back to me. “Maximo doesn’t run or uh…”

“Dabble in the oldest profession in the world? No.” The side of my mouth curved up as I gestured to the side. “There are hoses and a drainage system in every room.”

Mila turned a little green.

We moved to the back half of the building that was one massive space.

She pointed at the wooden trim that lined the painted concrete walls to make it look like a regular bedroom. “That would have to be removed throughout. Otherwise, it’ll absorb liquids.”

“So what did you folks say you’d be doing with the space?” the real estate agent suddenly asked as he crept behind us. Since I hadn’t heard his approach, he’d had to work to keep quiet in the echoing hall.

Should be careful. A nose can easily get broken if you shove it where it doesn’t belong.

Very easily.

I opened my mouth to feed him the same bullshit I always used about resort storage since the drop of Maximo’s name made people see dollar signs.

But Mila cut in like she was trying to cover for me. “I restore rugs.”

“You do what?” he asked.

“Have you not seen the videos online?” She played up the bubbly personality and giggled at him. “You’re in for a treat. They’re so satisfying. Better than the pimple-popping videos even.”

It worked like a motherfucking charm, and she had the nosy bastard eating out of her hand. “What all goes into it?”

I hope she can still bullshit now that she’s out of practice.

She could and did so flawlessly. “The hardest part is finding a worthwhile discarded rug. Most end up being cheap ones not worth the cost in soap. Garage sales are good, but estate sales can be goldmines. Once I have something, I work my magic to clean it. It can take a handful of rounds with my big industrial shampooer and squeegee to even see the pattern.” She pushed her lip out in the most fuckable pout I’d ever seen. “Our neighbor has started complaining about the noise and the smell, though.”

“That won’t be a worry here. There’s no one else around.” He scanned the room. “Privacy was obviously important to the seller.” At Mila’s random outburst of laughter, he didn’t look confused. He looked enamored by her.

I didn’t blame him.

Even if it made me want to test the hose system using his blood.

I must not have been hiding it well—mostly since I wasn’t trying—because he did a double take at my expression.

“I’ll leave you to finish looking around.” Without another word, he hauled ass down the hall—his echo sounding loud and clear that time.

I wrapped my arm around Mila’s chest from behind to feel the ropes under her clothes. “What was so funny?”

“If my story was true,” she whispered, “this place would’ve gone from polishing wood to cleaning carpets.”

I blinked down at the woman who wouldn’t even tell me she was hungry before.

Yet there we stood.

In a damn brothel while she made a dirty joke.

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