Page 46 of The Christmas Blueprint

Killian walked toward the back of the building. He’d had a few hours to research, and take pictures and think about the building on Friday. But he’d also driven Harlow out to Hunter’s acreage near his sister’s to walk the perimeter with her and get a sense of where the house would work the best. He hadn’t thought yet about the outside of the building. But if what Sophia was suggesting could gain some traction, an outside area would offer more options for a creative community space and experience.

“What’s out here?”

“The back?” She looked disinterested. “I don’t know what Zhang and his crew are planning. So far it’s mostly been tearing down things that are rotten, shoring up elements he wants to save. I haven’t seen any blueprints.”

“You mean you don’t know if he’s hired a design or build team?”

“No.”

Killian swore to himself.

Plum opportunity—although he was no longer part of a firm. But if he could snag Zhang’s interest, then he could bring it to his old firm and perhaps get his job back, and with the urban planning experience, he’d be in a better position to advance.

In Seattle.

For the first time, that didn’t bring a rush of relief.

But he also had a year commitment here. To this building and this town. And to Hunter and Harlow. He couldn’t bounce to the next shiny, intriguing opportunity.

But he could talk to Zhang. See what his plans were. Offer guidance, perhaps. Or see if the Mill Market would incorporate with what he was planning to do with the rest of the complex.

Right.

He’d been a very junior architect, and could no longer even claim that status. Zhang had a huge site that would attract top-tier firms, of which he could afford all their billable hours. And if the city’s plans for the building did fit in with his vision, he might not ultimately donate the building.

One hurdle at a time.

And it wouldn’t be cheating if he asked Zhang a few questions—ran some ideas by him.

“Let’s see what we have to work with,” he mused, striding toward his extensive toolbox that he had built into his jeep. Old habits died hard, but he did use them on construction sites more than one would think a suit would. He pulled out a crowbar and then a smaller one. “Want to destroy something?”

“Not my usual way of operating in the world, but yes, why not?” She smiled, and he felt the familiar kick in his gut.

This time, he embraced the feeling. It warmed him, reminded him he was alive, able to connect, instead of holding himself back for one reason or another. He handed over the smaller crowbar, and they attacked the door. Killian stifled his laughter as Sophia took more of a storming the castle approach than a methodical prying at the nails. He showed her what to do and then was so charmed by her intense expression he just stood there, watching her attack.

“You pulling a Tom Sawyer on me, Flanagan, making me do all the work.”

He started a little guiltily. “You just looked so beautiful,” he said without censoring.

Sophia stopped mid-tug-of-war with the board and nail and looked up at him a little startled. Her dark eyes looked mysterious, and her moue made something deep in his body stir to life.

“And murderous,” he tried to backpedal. “But yes, I do want to get a little tension out.” He tackled his side of the board, and after a nerve-racking moment where Sophia stared at him like she’d never seen him before and he wondered what she was really thinking, she got back to work.

Within minutes the board lifted enough that they could squeeze outside. He looked up at the wide entry. What kind of a door would be the best: rolling barn house or something more like a garage door? Maybe glassed to provide more light and views when Zhang’s plan was in place and approved.

When pigs fly.

“Patio,” they both said at the same time and smiled at each other.

If Zhang would let them use some of the land outside of the building boundaries.

“I’ll run it past him,” Killian said, trying not to feel guilty that he now had an excuse to approach Zhang with real business, not just a dream and a deep-seated want.

They stood outside, looking up at the grey sky that was beginning to lighten as the squall passed.

“What do you think about my ideas?” Sophia asked softly.

He looked back at her—no starry night, no sunrise, no sunset could hold a candle to her beauty and intrigue.

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