The room was spacious and not filled to the rafters with junk.
“It’s very nice,” she said, breathing through her tank top.
“Think about it, Thorn.”
“Think about what?” she asked.
“More space for Santiago Investigations. More privacy. No weird roommates walking in on us while we have sex. There’s a gate on the driveway. Plus, Burt already loves pooping here.”
“Are you talking about buying a mansion that someone was murdered in?”
“Forget about the murder part. We can definitely get rid of the smell. And don’t think about the bats either. I know a guy.”
Riley turtled her head into her shoulders as she looked up, expecting to see an entire colony of bats on the ceiling.
“What would we do with all this space? Wouldn’t it make more sense to rent another storefront and live above it?” she asked.
“Yes, it would. But what’s the fun in making sense? This place is here, and thanks to my new partner, I’ve got some additional financing.”
“Who’s your new partner?”
“Shhhh! It’s a secret! Mrs. Penny is asilentpartner.”
“Oh, well, there’s no waythatcan go horribly wrong,” she said dryly.
“Don’t be responsible and logical right now,” Nick told her. “Think about opening the gate and driving up to your very own mansion in your fancy… What’s your dream car?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. A bigger SUV, I guess?”
“Boring. Imagine driving up to your very own mansion in your fancy Porsche convertible.”
“So we’re entering the delusions of grandeur part of happy hour. Okay. Good to know.”
“Gotta dream big, Thorn. Otherwise, you’re not dreaming. You’re just planning.”
“I can’t tell if that was deeply philosophical or total bullshit.”
“Imagine a life where you don’t have to reconnect someone’s phone to the Wi-Fi every day. Where you don’t have to close the bathroom door when you’re peeing.”
“Yeah, I’m still going to do that no matter where I live.”
He sighed. “I have so much to teach you.” He gestured wildly. “This is the kind of place that has Christmas mornings and weekend barbecues. Lazy Sunday sex and snoring dogs.”
The kinds of moments that had turned into photoshoots at Bianca’s house. Leave it to Nick Santiago to inherently know the meaning of life. “Did you hit your head when you fell out of the air vent?” she teased.
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
“That explains a lot.”
He shook his head and then tipped over, catching himself on the fireplace mantel. “I want to live here and work here with you, Riley ‘Tell Me Your Middle Name’ Thorn.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “You’re an adorable drunk, Nick. But I’m not telling you my middle name.”
“But you’ll think about moving here with me, right? Because I’m an adorable drunk, and I’m super great in bed.”
“And in cars and on roofs,” she added. “Do you really want to live here? With me?”
“It feels right. Even though itsmellswrong. Itfeelsright.”
