Page 75 of Fairy Godmothers Aren't Cheap

I took in the dimly lit open space and the giant doors on the other side of the room. “Does this place make you think of a movie set?”

“You mean where the bad guys come ripping in on motorcycles or in black SUVs to make an arms deal or to do a hostage swap?” She turned to me with a grin, knowing I was visualizing the same thing. I wanted to scoop a hand through her hair and draw her toward me and kiss those smiling lips.

“Yeah,” I said, unable to look away from her mouth.

She shivered again and turned to leave. I grabbed her arm, not yet ready to leave the old building. There was still more to explore, more moments to spend together. I angled my chin toward the steps on the other side of the room. “What do you think’s up there?”

Char’s eyes lit up, and a thrum of adventure rumbled through us like a connection.

“Empty office?” she asked, finally meeting my eyes like she used to.

“Boring storage?” I replied dryly.

She laughed. “Okay. Fine. How about important and valuable historical documents?”

“Old journals or diaries?”

“Mysteries and gold?”

“Now you’re talking!” Grabbing her hand, I dragged her across the packed dirt floor—another win, no concrete pad to bust up—and over to the steps. I kept holding her hand, not wanting to be the first to let go.

Had she simply been too shy to express her affection in front of Samantha? Or were we just taking one step back after last week’s sudden jump from friends, to friends who kiss like lovers?

And did it matter? I had her with me right now, her smooth hand in mine.

“I think we’ve watched too many movies,” I admitted as we started up the wooden steps to the second level, which really was just a sliver of space tacked up near the roof and had most likely been cleared out a long time ago.

“No such thing as too many!” she said. “Imagine if we find something! It’ll be like living inJumanjiorIndiana Jones. Or evenThe MummyorLost City!”

“Do I know that last one?”

“Featuring Sandra Bullock.”

“Oh, yeah. That was cute. My mom rented it.”

Yes, I watched rom-coms with my mom. They made me laugh and feel good. Plus, it made my mom happy.

Char clung tighter to my hand. The poor lighting and the open wood steps with no railing were clearly making her uneasy. “What if the upper landing is rotted and we fall through?”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” I needed to see what was behind that door. My inner child had been released, and was fully in charge of checking out the abandoned building. If there had been windows and rocks, I’d surely be the first to break them just for the sheer joy of it.

Yeah, I liked rom-coms, but I also really liked smashing stuff.

“Death isn’t an adventure,” Char chided. “Neither is being alive, but with severely broken legs and a crippled spine.”

I chuckled and slowed down, tightening my grip on her hand when she flinched as a few pigeons fluttered from a rafter.

“You okay?” I asked.

She nodded, keeping her attention on the steps, and her shoulder against the solid wall to her right.

At the top, I surveyed the warehouse from our perch.

“Aren’t you dizzy?” she asked.

“Why?”

“No railings! We’re up high. You could accidentally fall off, landing on the hard, stained dirt below like so many people before us. Look at all those stains! There are more of them near these railing-less steps.”

---