It’s a Spanish-style estate with a red tile roof. The front is white stucco with gray stone and stained wood accents. The windows are arched to a point, and there are two balconies overlooking a courtyard that features a pond with a fountain at the center.

“You were right. This is the one,” my giddy wife proclaims as I help her out of the car and we start making our way toward the house to join Wanda.

“Pump the brakes.” I laugh. “We haven’t even been inside yet.” But I have to admit, what we’ve seen so far is hella impressive. “With the luck we’ve had today we’re liable to find dead bodies hidden in the closets.”

“Funny,” Wanda says, catching the tail end of our conversation. “I truly believe we saved the best for last. This house just came on the market yesterday, and it won’t last long.” She glances around the property before bringing her attention back to us. “For obvious reasons.”

“We’ll take it!” Sammi has apparently lost her fucking mind.

“Let’s take the tour first, and then decide, huh, love?”

She gives me an annoyed glare and sulks. “Fine.”

Our realtor gives my wife an exaggerated wink before starting her spiel. “This Mediterranean-style home was originally built in the 1930s and has remained in the same family for nearly a century.”

“Wow.” I follow her through the gate into the courtyard, letting its history soak in. “Why are they letting it go now?”

“Mr. Cartwright’s great-granddaughter just inherited it after the passing of her father—her last living parent. She’s an only child who’s been residing in New York for more than ten years and has no desire to return to country living.”

We follow her inside through arched double doors into a foyer that features brick floors, an elaborate iron chandelier, exposed wood beams, and cream-colored textured walls.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

We walk through a brick archway on the left side of the foyer into a kitchen that’s about half the size of the one Sammi loved so much in the other house and lacks a lot of the natural light she was obsessed with as well. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“It’s so cozy.” My wife trails her hand along the granite island in the center of the room. “It feels homey, right?”

Her positive reaction has me breathing a huge sigh of relief. “I think so. I love the mixed elements…the exposed wood, the brick.” I move to examine the backsplash. “And I really like the pop of color these patterned tiles bring to the room.”

“Me too.” Sammi walks over to join me, smoothing a hand along my back. “My heart feels happy here.”

“Does it?” I press a kiss to her forehead. “Mine is happy anywhere yours is.”

“Such a smooth talker, Mr. Livingston.”

“Just comes natural.”