Page 28 of Witchful Thinking

“You mermen are too much,” Lucy said, waving his compliment away.

Alex lifted the plate. He held back a gasp. “Cowboy blondies.”

His mouth watered at the sight of the chewy chocolate-chip, coconut, and brown-sugar treat cut into neat squares.

“Is that sea salt on top?” he asked. Of course, there was sea salt on top. She wasn’t playing fair. These treats would be gone by the end of the day.

“Nana always made a plate for new neighbors.” Lucy tapped the plate lovingly. “I guess that means you.”

“Thanks, Lu.”

The old nickname slipped out. She swallowed and gave him a small grin. “No problem.”

Alex gestured to the house. “I’d invite you in, but I have nothing to sit on.”

“If you’re looking for cheap chairs, the Freya Flea Market is in August,” Lucy said. “I know a few vendors who’d love to decorate this place. We can make a deal.”

Alex hesitated. When he was furnishing his old place with his ex, he’d gone to the Bushwick Market and rummaged through unfinished chairs and macramé plant holders to find treasures to decorate their home. He’d been covered in dust and cobwebs, but he’d been happy at the time. His chest ached. There were too many memories about that space that he didn’t want to think about now. This house wasn’t going to be a home for him. It was a project.

“I don’t know if I’m going to keep it.” He didn’t want to waste her time and energy.

Lucy’s shoulders dropped a fraction. Displeasure flickered for a second in her eyes. “But it was a gift.”

“It’s a huge-ass, pricey gift.”

“The mortgage can’t be more than rent on an apartment in the city,” Lucy pointed out with a knowing grin. Alex huffed at her words. She wasn’t wrong. He’d gone to the bank, spoken to the home lending advisor, and seen the monthly payment amount for himself. It would be cheaper just to stay here than to rent a temporary place elsewhere.

“Give it a chance. If you don’t like it, sell it at the end of the summer,” Lucy said.

“You make it sound easy,” Alex said. “I can’t just post this house on social media and sell it.”

“People sell everything on the internet. I just saw someone try to sell a haunted doll.” Lucy visibly shuddered. “You do not need that supernatural drama.”

“What about a jinxed house?”

“It’s not the house’s fault. Wouldn’t you be mad if people kept falling in and out of love with you?” Lucy rolled her eyes at that phrase. Alex gave a ragged sigh. She softened when she looked him over. “The house isn’t jinxed; it just needs love. If someone invested in it, rather than run away when things got tough, it wouldn’t be for sale every six months.”

Alex froze when he heard this news. “How many people have owned this place?”

Lucy frowned. “Let’s just say I’ve perfected making my cowboy blondies for all our new neighbors. The last time I counted, it was fifteen owners in the past five years.”

“Yikes,” Alex groaned. “That makes me lucky owner number sixteen.”

“You might be what this house needs. I have a good feeling,” Lucy said.

“I can’t just sell an empty house,” Alex said. “I need to stage it. I have to show the possibilities.”

“I like possibilities,” Lucy said, rubbing her palms together, excitement vibrating from her entire being. She lit up from the inside out. “What are you thinking style and decor wise? Seaside? Countryside? Hollywood bungalow?”

A familiar sensation of sinking hit his stomach. He held the plate close to his chest. “I don’t know.”

“What’s the vibe you’re getting from the house?”

“It’s giving me a haunted hideaway feeling,” Alex said.

Lucy held up a hand. “Have you seen or heard a ghost?”

“Not yet.”

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