Page 18 of Designing Love
She punches my arm lightly, laughing.
Feigning pain, I rub my arm exaggeratedly.
“Seriously?”
“Careful — your dance strength is intimidating.” I wink at her.
“Oh, please,” she scoffs, cheeks flushing. “I barely tapped you.”
We both laugh, settling into easy silence until the Miller House comes into view, perched with quiet authority on its hill. Sophia gasps softly.
“Wow.”
“Good wow, or ‘run away’ wow?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Both. But I see your point. There’s something… special about it.”
I park, shutting off the engine. For a moment, we sit quietly, staring at the house.
“You ready?” she finally asks.
I smile, heart fluttering. “With you here? Absolutely.”
Heat rises to my cheeks immediately at my unintended honesty, and Sophia notices, smiling shyly.
“Then let’s meet your ghosts.”
We step out, and she stumbles slightly on an uneven stone. Instinctively, I catch her elbow gently.
“Careful,” I murmur, my hand lingering a heartbeat too long.
She looks up at me with grateful eyes, our gazes catching for a breath.
A loud squawk interrupts sharply as a crow flaps noisily from a tree. Sophia jumps back, hand pressed to her chest.
“Definitely haunted,” she whispers breathlessly.
“Clearly,” I agree with exaggerated seriousness. “Ghost birds are the worst.”
We share a shaky laugh before stepping onto the porch. Sophia touches the brass handle, running fingers gently along the carved trim.
“See?” I nudge her elbow lightly. “There IS something special here, like you said.”
She bites her lip, fighting a smile. “I know, and I haven’t even stepped inside yet.”
I push the door open. Dusty, stale air greets us. Sophia coughs lightly, and I swear the tiny puff of cinnamon gum breath curls straight up my spine. The hallway is suddenly too narrow, the distance between her shoulder and mine criminally small.
“You might consider air freshener. Or an exorcism. It could go either way.”
I chuckle, watching as she steps further inside, eyes wide with wonder. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers, fingertips tracing the elegant banister.
“I told you. Imagine it fully restored. Fresh paint, polished floors, sunlight streaming through windows. Admit it, you’re tempted.”
She raises a skeptical eyebrow, but a smile dances in her eyes. “You’re really selling this. But tell me, what’s your vision for this? You already have a beach house. You want another house?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. I thought about flipping it into an Airbnb, or maybe an office. I’m waiting to see what your thoughts and vision are.”
She laughs. “So, now I’m an accomplice.”
