Page 63 of Xander
I allowed the feeling to roll through me and settle in deep.
I liked that.
I liked that a lot.
Therefore, I took the front of the house in.
It was painted an off white in color with blue accents on either side of the windows.
The blue needed to go.
It had eight white columns holding up the overhang with a tan front door that had stained glass in it.
On either side of the door were two vertical windows.
And on the bottom portion of the house, it had windows, two on either side of the front door.
On the second level, it looked to be an alcove of some kind, and I hoped that it could be turned into a reading nook.
That would be perfect.
That or... a baby's nursery.
I was getting ahead of myself.
To the right of the alcove was a set of double-pained windows, and then a column-like style window.
And then on the third floor was a smaller window to the left, and to the right was another double-pained window.
And on top of that was a brick-looking chimney.
Oh, please let it have a working fireplace.
And one or two in however many bedrooms it had.
I moved to him, wrapped my arms around him, and asked, “Take me on a tour?”
He looked down at me and winked, then he led me to the front porch.
“Step where I step, baby.” He told me.
Then, with my hand in his, he led the way up the steps.
Steps that needed a little tender loving care, and they would be perfect.
The moment I stepped onto the front porch, which also needed a little tender loving care, I had a vision of the French doors adorned with wreaths during Christmastime.
And when he pulled a key from his pocket, I asked, “How’d you get a key?”
He turned his head and looked at me, “I know someone.”
I giggled.
Then, when he opened the door, I felt my breath catch.
Because the entryway had fucking shiplap.
Fucking ship lap.
