Page 26 of Designing Love (Bluewater Cove #2)

RENOVATING THE FUTURE

Sophia

I stand in the middle of the Miller House, clipboard in hand, trying desperately not to laugh. Ethan stands before me, safety goggles perched atop his head like he’s auditioning for a handyman reality show.

“Remind me again,” I tease lightly, tapping my pen against the clipboard, “exactly why you decided this wall had to go today?”

Ethan squints at the cracked plaster. “Sophia, it offended me personally. Look at it. Smug, cracked, mocking me. It had it coming.”

I press my lips together, barely holding back my laugh. “Ah, yes. Walls famous for their terrible attitude problems.”

He flashes a charmingly defensive smile. “You’re the designer. You tell me — doesn’t it look structurally suspicious?”

I shake my head, amused, and take a step closer to examine the ancient wallpaper. “It looks vintage to me. Like early Victorian meets desperate 1970s homeowner. Perfectly harmless.”

Ethan eyes the wall suspiciously, reaching out and tapping it lightly with his knuckles. A dull thud echoes ominously.

I pause, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe less harmless.”

“Ha! See?” Ethan says triumphantly. “It’s clearly mocking both of us now.”

Before I can protest, he hefts the sledgehammer, testing its weight. My heart quickens, a rush of excitement mixing with nerves. I glance down at the clipboard, faking serious consideration. “Well, according to our plans…”

“I have your blessing then,” Ethan interrupts, eyes bright with boyish mischief, already swinging.

“Wait — Ethan!” I shriek, jumping back just in time as the sledgehammer crashes spectacularly through the plaster. Dust billows everywhere, coating us both in white powder.

We stare blankly at each other through the haze, Ethan coughing slightly, his face sheepish beneath the dust. “That... seemed easier on TV.”

“Did you just base our entire renovation strategy on reality TV? Just wait for the construction crew, will ya?!” I sputter through laughter, brushing plaster dust from my eyelashes.

“Possibly,” he admits, wiping his face and blinking. “Wasn’t my best move.”

I chuckle helplessly, reaching over to gently dust his shoulders. “It’s OK. It’s fixable.”

He smiles softly, eyes meeting mine. “It’s good that you’re here to supervise.”

My pulse quickens. I clear my throat, suddenly shy. “You clearly need supervision.”

He laughs, stepping closer, fingers brushing my cheek gently. “That’s why you’re here, right? Keep me from wrecking everything?”

My breath catches as his thumb lingers softly against my skin. “Exactly.”

A scratching noise suddenly breaks the intimate moment. Ethan steps back, raising an eyebrow warily toward the gaping hole he just created.

“Did you hear that?” he asks, suspicious.

I edge closer, squinting through the plaster dust. “Maybe it’s…”

Without warning, a furry face pops through the hole, eyes wide with startled indignation.

Ethan jumps back a good foot, nearly colliding with me. “Oh my gosh! It’s — it’s a raccoon!”

I laugh, clutching my stomach, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I think he’s saying we owe him rent now.”

Ethan groans, shaking his head, chuckling despite himself. “This house is a literal zoo.”

The raccoon, deciding we’re beneath his dignity, vanishes back into the wall.

We exchange an amused glance. “Maybe we’ll leave this particular wall alone for now,” Ethan mutters.

“Agreed,” I grin, jotting a sarcastic note onto the clipboard. “Raccoon residence: Do not disturb.”

We move on to safer tasks, my heart feeling lighter with every passing hour spent beside Ethan. Gradually, laughter fills the once-empty rooms, our easy banter a comforting backdrop to the chaos.

Later, as Ethan rolls out fresh blueprints on the makeshift plywood table, he nudges me gently. “So, since my wall demolition skills clearly need refining, tell me more about your vision. What’s next?”

I glance down at the plans, suddenly thoughtful. “I guess I’ve been wondering — what we should do with this space. We’ve never settled on rental? Office space?”

He clears his throat awkwardly, suddenly very interested in the edge of the blueprint. “No. I, uh... I suppose we haven’t.” He tilts his head, observing me, eyes sparkling. “But I think you already have a plan cooking in that talented head of yours.”

I blush, suddenly shy. “Maybe a small one.”

He leans closer, eyes bright with curiosity. “Care to share?”

I bite my lip nervously, excitement bubbling.

“Well... what if we turned this into an office?” I respond quickly, cheeks burning.

“My office. I could rent space for my office, I mean! Maybe it could even be our offices, if you want. A place I can design, research, and meet clients. A home base. Somewhere that feels creative and... mine. Ours.”

For a moment, Ethan doesn’t speak. My heart sinks slightly. Did I push too far?

Then, a slow, warm smile spreads across his face. “Sophia, that’s perfect. Actually, that’s brilliant. We could also rent out space, for out-of-towners that want to do some work.”

My shoulders relax, relief flooding through me. “Really?”

“Absolutely. You’re a designer. You need your own space. And I... I would make a more professional impression if I had a formal office, plus separating work and home sounds great. Honestly, I like the idea of this place having a new life. A second chance.”

My pulse quickens, excitement mounting. “We could open the main floor and keep it welcoming and cozy for client meetings. Upstairs would be workspaces, maybe a drafting area, mood boards everywhere...”

“Neighboring offices?” Ethan adds hopefully, a playful gleam in his eyes.

I laugh softly, nudging his shoulder. “I think I can accommodate that.”

Suddenly, we’re both leaning over the plans, rapidly sketching ideas, and notes fly between us. Ethan points enthusiastically at the small front room. “What if this is your client lounge? Comfortable chairs, bookshelves filled with design inspiration, great coffee…”

I grin knowingly. “Coffee is essential. You’ve clearly learned well.”

He smiles triumphantly, sliding closer until our shoulders press together. “I had a good teacher.”

“Clearly,” I murmur, suddenly intensely aware of his closeness. My heart skips gently.

Ethan glances sideways, catching my gaze. His voice is gentle but serious. “I love this idea, Sophia.”

My cheeks heat, and my breath hitches slightly. “Good, because I’m already attached to it.”

He moves closer, turning toward me. His hands gently grip my waist, pulling me to him.

I feel my heart skip a frantic beat, warmth rushing to my cheeks.

I realize with a rush of surprise and delight that I’ve never felt self-conscious around him.

My body naturally fits against his, like we’ve been holding each other this way for years, not mere seconds.

He leans in closer, and my breath catches softly. I close my eyes as our foreheads gently touch, sharing anticipation, our breathing softly synchronized.

“Consider me fully on board,” he whispers, his voice low and tender, the closeness sending shivers down my spine.

Before I can reply, he closes the space between us, his lips pressing gently against mine. My heart explodes into an erratic rhythm, emotions spilling over as I lean into him, deepening the kiss. His fingers tangle gently in my hair, his scent enveloping me.

Eventually, Ethan squeezes my hand gently, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he breaks into a playful smile. “OK, boss. What’s first?”

I grin back at him, my heart swelling with happiness and new possibilities. “Paint swatches, floor samples, and officially evicting our furry houseguest.”

Ethan laughs, shaking his head fondly. “Perfect. Let’s do this.”