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“Deeper, baby,” Sookie moans and grabs my ass.

This baby making business we’ve got going is booming.

“Oh fuck,” I groan when her pussy starts to clench. “Goddamnit that feels fucking amazing, Sookie.” She’s not coming yet, but I know she’s getting closer.

It’s impressive that she’s not walking funny with all the sex we’ve had in the last two weeks.

I pull out of her and flip Sookie onto her stomach. I get her hands gathered at the small of her back and then thrust into her again. She cries out and I start pounding into her. Long ago I learned this position was perfect for hitting her g-spot, so I know she’ll be screaming in no time.

“Eric! Fuck!” she yells and does her best to push back into my thrusts.

“You want it harder?” I ask her.

“Yes! Please, baby,” she begs. “Fuck me harder.”

I keep a hold of her hands and use them for leverage when my hips start to move faster. I reach around her and rub her clit in fast circles. In seconds I feel the flutters that let me know Sookie’s right on the edge.

If I wasn’t afraid of her kicking my ass I’d pull out and change positions on her again.

Half a dozen more deep thrusts and I get my reward. Sookie screams when she comes and she milks me of my orgasm too. I come with a loud groan and release deep inside her while she’s still coming.

I stay still, other than letting go of her hands, enjoying the pulsing of her core around my cock. I even consider fingering her into coming again, but the way she’s shaking and gasping for air tells me she needs a break. I pull out of her and fall to the side. I move her hair away from her flushed, sweaty face and kiss her shoulder.

“You’re incredible,” I tell her.

I married Sookie for a lot of reasons, but the fuck hot sex was one of them.

“Uh huh,” she mumbles.

“Are you okay?” I’m pretty sure I just fucked her stupid, but it’s always better to check.

“Uh huh.”

Yep. She’ll be fine in a few minutes.

“We should do that again. Soon.” I start tracing patterns on her back and it makes her shiver.

She shakes her head.

“You’re done?”

“No. Just not up for that again so soon,” she says slowly. “Maybe tomorrow, honey.”

I smile and carefully gather her closer to me so her head is on my chest and I rub her back. It’s crazy to think it’s possible that right this second a baby could be forming inside her. I know it isn’t likely, but it’s possible.

“You’re getting better, if that’s possible.”

“I pay attention. I know I done good when you scream like that,” I say and kiss her hair.

“I think my heart stopped for a second there,” she says.

“Is that a good thing?” Fucking someone into heart failure doesn’t sound like a good idea.

“It felt good at the time,” she smiles against my chest. “Or maybe it was that I just stopped breathing.”

“You didn’t black out, did you?”

“I’m not sure. I was riding some kind of high where I wasn’t sure I was even on the bed anymore,” she says. “It was like the whole world just dropped out from under me.”

Mentally, I high five myself.

The only thing I can think of to say is, “You’re welcome.”

“You’ll be getting yours, don’t even worry,” she says. “I think you’re due for a special wake up.”

I’ll take it. Sookie gives the best special wake up calls. My stomach rumbles. I need a snack.

“I’m hungry. You want something too?”

“Mmm, yes. And water, please. I need to rehydrate.”

“I’ll be right back.” I kiss her hair again and slip out from under Sookie.

She stretches out and I walk naked to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of water for her along with the leftover pizza in the fridge. It’s just cheese, so I grab some paper towels and bring it all back to the bedroom. Sookie’s turned over onto her back and her perfect, perky nipples are just begging to be played with.

“Here you go.” I hand Sookie the water.

“Thank you, sweetie,” she says, and sits up and opens the water.

“You’re welcome.” I drop the pizza box on the bed and climb up before lifting the lid to grab a slice. “I will miss the pizza when we leave the city.”

Or getting Chinese takeout delivered at three AM because excessive fucking leads to the munchies and the wife wants fried rice.

“And the early morning Chinese,” she says as she reaches for a slice.

“I was just thinking that. Mind reader.”

“Vulcan mind meld!” she says excitedly.

“Dork.”

I fold my slice of pizza in half and take a big bite. Damn, this is good stuff.

Sookie and I eat our pizza and she finishes her water. I take the trash to the kitchen while she goes to the bathroom to do her bedtime routine. I go in just to brush my teeth and by the time Sookie’s done doing her thing, I’m stretched out in bed with the lights out.

“Lover, you should always walk around naked when we’re home alone,” I tell her as she climbs into bed with me.

“I think that’s the seventy-eighth time you’ve told me that since we got together,” she smiles and cuddles up with me.

“That’s it?”

“Apparently you don’t feel very passionate about it,” she shrugs.

“Oh no. I think it on the regular, trust me.” I wrap an arm around her.

“Good to know,” she says. “You’re not so bad yourself when you walk around naked.”

“I’d do it more often, but you get fussy when we have company.”

“I don’t need any females peeping on your junk.”

“You don’t want them to see what they’ll never have?”

“Nope. They can leave it to their imaginations,” she says. “Do you want me walking around naked for all your male friends to admire?”

“You can but I’m blindfolding those horny fuckers.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’d be doing it for your safety.”

“So nice of you to think of me.”

“No need to thank me,” I say and Sookie snorts. I retaliate by tickling her side.

“Hey!” she laughs and squirms away.

“No, no, come back and squirm some more. That feels nice.”

“Now who’s the horny fucker?” she laughs. “If you want to get lucky again tonight you’re going to have to be sweet.”

“No, I can give you the rest of the night off. You earned it.”

“I should hope so. I was walking funny.”

“You were?” I didn’t notice.

“It felt like it.”

“Huh… Well, since I’m thinking of you, maybe I should kiss it better,” I suggest.

“I think I’d be very receptive to that,” she smiles and then bites her bottom lip.

See? I’m a lucky bastard.

♦ ♦ ♦

Sookie keeps her promise and wakes me up with one hell of a blowjob. My wife doesn’t seem to have a gag reflex which means she’s the first woman that has ever been able to swallow my cock and not sound like she’s going to hurl when she does it. She doesn’t do it all the time, either. Sookie saves it for special occasions or for when I’m a good boy.

After we shower and have breakfast I get dressed to go for a run in the park with Ansel. Sookie gets dressed for yoga. Ansel and I walk her to the gym and then go on to the park for our run. Sookie and I have talked a little about where we’d like to live. I’m originally from a suburb of Milwaukee. NYC is a completely different world from the Midwest. I’ve loved living in New York. I wouldn’t have met Sookie without living here. Living here has exposed me to things I wouldn’t even know about if I stayed in Wisconsin, but it’s not where I want to raise my kids.

She’s right that our kids deserve plenty of space to run around in. Maybe we could even get a second dog so Ansel can have a playmate of his own. I’ve always wanted a German shepherd but they’re too big for apartment living and I don’t really want to drop millions on a townhouse when we could move somewhere less crowded and get much more for our money.

I wonder if Sookie would want to be closer to her family. She’s from a small town in Alabama not too far from the border of Florida. It’s a nice area and it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to have family close by. Sookie’s got an older brother so our kids could at least be close to their uncle. I have a younger sister, but Pam definitely won’t be leaving Miami to move to some hick town. She barely likes going back to Wisconsin to see Dad.

Our mother died when I was thirteen and Pam was eight. Mom was diagnosed with stage four brain cancer three weeks after her thirty-fifth birthday. The doctors said it was inoperable and she could have chemotherapy, but there was no guarantee it would help. It might have given her a few more weeks, but she most likely would have spent them in misery. Mom decided to spend her time doing all the things she could, and she was with Pam and me every minute she could be. She never once acted like she was dying.

I don’t think that was denial, although it made me mad at the time. At thirteen I was old enough to understand that death is final. There would be none of that horse shit about mommy being asleep. I knew where she was going I couldn’t follow. I was angry. I was angry at her for what seemed to me like giving up. I was angry at Dad for not demanding that Mom at least give the chemotherapy a chance. I was angry at whatever higher power was stealing my mother from me at such a young age. I was angry for her because Mom didn’t seem to be angry about what was happening to her.

All of that anger needed a release and after getting into half a dozen fist fights and getting suspended from school twice, Dad put me in counseling. I resisted the process at first, but I slowly started to open up to my therapist. It was because of him that I started writing and discovered I had a talent for it. I learned to use a pen instead of my fists to vent my frustrations. I don’t know if talking in therapy helped, but I filled one composition book after another with my thoughts. I have them packed away in Dad’s attic somewhere.

Dad would be thrilled if Sookie and I moved out to Wisconsin, but I don’t know if I can see her there. She barely tolerates winter in NYC and it’s definitely worse in the Midwest than it is here. Southern winters are much milder, and to be honest, I liked it down there. It was definitely quieter in Alabama than it is in NYC. There would be plenty of room for our kids to run and play and if we pick the right neighborhood it would definitely be safer.

While I’m running I remember the trip Sookie and I took to New Orleans for Mardi Gras the year we got married. Neither of us had ever been down there and she wanted to take pictures for her next show. The pictures turned out great and we loved being in the French Quarter. Research told us ahead of time that the city is one of the most haunted places in the world. We even went on one of the ghost tours they do down there and it just so happened that we were there at the right time to see one of the jazz funerals. It was a great trip.

I don’t know if New Orleans is the right place for us to move since it isn’t the safest city either, but maybe somewhere nearby would be good. I know Sookie wants to go back and take more pictures at some point. Even if we lived a few hours away it would be good. We used to take road trips all the time when I was a kid. We’d drive up to Door County to go camping in the summer and I used to go fishing with Dad all the time out on Fond du Lac. It might be nice to be able to keep that tradition alive and go fishing with my own sons if we have boys. God knows Dad would be more inclined to come visit if there were fishing trips planned out.

Plus we wouldn’t be too horribly far from Sookie’s family in Louisiana. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s where her dad is from, but I can’t remember for sure. But I do like her family. I get along well with her parents and it’s pretty much guaranteed that I’ll go fishing or hunting with her dad and brother when we go down to visit them. Sookie’s never said so out loud, but her behavior tells me she gets a little turned on by that kind of stuff. Anytime I do the stereotypical guy stuff, Sookie gets this look in her eyes. I’m not complaining. If me going fishing makes her horny, that’s only a bonus for both of us.

I run a good five miles before slowing to a walk. Ansel is going to sleep like a log when we get home. I stop at the dog park on the way back so he can get some water from the water fountain for dogs. He drinks his fill and when my phone buzzes in my pocket I see a text from Sookie letting me know that she’s done at yoga. I text her back and ask her to meet me at the café across the street from her gym. Ansel can be in the outdoor seating area as long as he doesn’t bother anyone, and after the run we just went on I know he wants to rest.

It takes about fifteen minutes for me to get to Sookie, but my darling wife already has a glass of water waiting for me when I arrive and she’s ordered us some sort of citrus salad to share and the Cuban panini I love. See? Perfect wife.

“You’re an angel. I’m starving.” I bend down to kiss her before taking a seat.

“I knew you would be,” she smiles, and pets Ansel when he puts his head on her leg. “Did you have a good run?”

“Very. How was yoga?”

“Relaxing.”

“Good.” I reach for the salad and put some on the little plate in front of me. Then I reach for my water glass and start chugging.

“I have something for you,” she says to Ansel and pulls a treat out of her bag.

“You’re so good at spoiling him,” I smirk. It’s no secret Sookie is his favorite of the two of us.

“It’s not spoiling to give him a treat after being a good boy. You got your treat this morning if you don’t recall,” she says and gives me an identical smirk.

“Yes, I remember, and I think I got the better treat.”

“I think so too.”

“Besides, I’m not the only one who enjoyed my treat. Don’t think I didn’t see where your other hand was.”

She blushes and takes a bite of her salad to avoid responding. I laugh quietly and then do the same. It’s a nice spring day in New York. Birds are singing, the sun is shining and we can hear ambulance sirens in the distance. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

“Where’s your dad from again?” I ask her and the look on her face tells me I’ve just asked a very random question.

“Bon Temps, Louisiana,” she says. “Why?”

“While I was running I started thinking about how much we liked New Orleans. I don’t think I would want to live there, exactly, but maybe somewhere in the south. We’d be closer to your family and there are tons of old plantations and cemeteries you could take pictures of down there.”

A waitress brings my sandwich and some soup for Sookie, as well as more water. It’s a good thing because I’m still thirsty. Not to be outdone by Sookie, I cut off a piece of my Cuban and give it to Ansel.

“You like that better, don’t you, buddy? Ham beats milkbone any day,” I say while he goes to town on the sandwich.

“You’re lucky I’m okay with us giving him people food,” Sookie says.

“I would hope so with all the leftovers that magically appear in his food dish.”

Technically, Ansel is Sookie’s dog. I gave him to her for our first anniversary. It was love at first cuddle.

“Uh huh,” she smiles. “And about moving to the south, that’s not a bad idea. I always loved my Gran’s house in Bon Temps. I’m sure someone else is living there now, but we could look around. There are all kinds of big, old houses down there.”

“An old house would be cool. We could fix it up together and make it the way we want it.”

I’m no professional contractor, but I do know a little about home repair thanks to Pop. If he came down to give me a hand I’m sure we could knock out a lot of the little stuff ourselves. Plus, he loves Sookie almost as much as I do.

And I would love to see my wife try to do construction work.

“I’d love to restore an old home,” she smiles. “I could photograph it and you could do a write-up on the project as we go.”

“We could do that. It could be like a how to guide for getting your marriage to survive living in a renovation,” I snicker and then take a big bite of my sandwich with Ansel begging for more at my feet. “You had yours. This is mine.”

Ansel whines, but meanders over to Sookie and lies down.

“I think we’ll do just fine as long as we keep up this baby making business. I swear it’s like my libido kicked it up a hundred notches. And it wasn’t like it was low before.”

“So I should wear a tool belt at my own risk?”

“If you wear a tool belt, you won’t get any work done.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

We take our time eating and when we’re finished we walk back to our apartment hand in hand.

SPOV

After looking up a bit of real estate and talking with an agent over the phone, Eric and I fly to Louisiana. We have to go without Ansel because I feel that flying is incredibly stressful for pets, and we won’t be gone long. Our neighbor is really nice and takes care of Ansel when we go out of town for short trips like this. For longer ones we board him.

We have to rent a car to drive to Bon Temps after landing, but it’s good that we’ll really see what it’ll be like for us to travel if we live here. There won’t be any hailing a cab and being at JFK in fifteen minutes. The drive seems to go fast because we talk about all the houses we’re supposed to look at on the way. I have a file folder of printouts in my lap that I’m poring over. We have seven houses to look at today.

I keep going back to the Compton house. It’s on the same road my grandmother’s old house is on, which I did find out is currently occupied, and I vaguely remember it from when I was a child. It’s big, and beautiful, and very old. Over two hundred years to be exact. It was standing during the Civil War. Plus it’s been in the possession of one family for all this time so if anything I just want to get inside it so I can feel it. That sounds weird, but with all the old things I’ve photographed I’ve learned that old things feel a certain way. And if it’s an old thing that has experienced the same family and energy for two hundred years, it’s got to have a special feeling to it.

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to hate some of these,” I tell Eric.

“That’s a good thing. I can’t have you falling in love with seven houses.”

“Who’s to say you won’t be the one falling for all the houses?”

“Good point. We’ll just have to wait and see. Are any of them talking to you?”

“The Compton house,” I say, and hold up the print out. “It’s so old and beautiful. And I’ll bet it’s got strong bones.”

“Looks like it needs a lot of work,” Eric says when he glances over. “That’s a lot of time in a tool belt. Think you can handle that?”

“Oh I can handle it,” I say, and then an idea pops into my head and I put all the papers back in the folder and put it in my purse. We have about twenty minutes left in the drive, so I reach over and undo Eric’s jeans.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks with a smile.

“We never get to do this because we never get to drive,” I say as I pull his cock out and start stroking. I pull off my seat belt and say, “Plus, we’re on a road that isn’t very busy. Think you can handle not wrecking?”

“I want to find out.”

“I trust you not to kill us,” I say, and kiss his neck before sinking down to take him into my mouth.

Eric grunts and one of his hands lands on the back of my head. It’s a good thing he’s got such long legs because it sets him far enough away from the steering wheel that I’m not hitting my head on it. I know I need to make this somewhat quick to lessen the chance of fiery car wrecks, so my left hand strokes what doesn’t fit in my mouth and my right plays with his boys. I suck on the tip hard, then swirl my tongue all around before bobbing my head again a few times.

“Fuck, that feels good, Sookie,” he groans.

I moan around his cock as a reward. He knows I love it when he’s vocal about things. I start to twist my wrist and tighten my grip on every upstroke, punctuating that with a hard suck every time. I know how to get my husband off quickly when I need to. I also know how to torture him if I want to, but that’s for later.

He hisses and says, “Keep sucking hard like that.”

I do as he says and concentrate on the sucking while my hand picks up speed.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans and he starts to thrust his hips just a little.

My right hand gets a little rougher on the boys and my left grips him just a little bit tighter as I keep sucking, and that’s all it takes to finish him. Eric tenses up and he swells a little in my mouth before he releases with a long groan.

“Jesus, Sookie,” he mutters.

I swallow down everything and keep bobbing my head and sucking him until I determine he’s clean. I tuck him back into his pants and sit back in my seat.

“I forgot how fun that is,” I say as I check my mouth in the visor mirror. A little dripped out of the corner of my mouth so I wipe it up with my finger and suck it clean. Eric enjoys that for some reason.

“You know you’re the sexiest woman in the world, right?” Eric picks up my hand and kisses it.

“I’m glad you think so,” I smile. “You’re pretty sexy yourself.”

“I would return the favor but it’ll have to wait until we get to the hotel.”

“I’ll be patient,” I say. “I’m just happy you enjoyed yourself.”

I’ve never been one that’s needed to be paid back every time I blow Eric. There are times when I just really want to give him one, and that’s all. He’s got no complaints.

“Oh I did. And if I can expect more of that, then we’re definitely moving.”

“You can until I’m too big to do it, or until there’s a baby in the backseat.”

“That’s fair.”

“And next time I’ll wear a dress so I can have a little fun myself.”

“Next time I’ll just pull over,” he says.

“Hopefully we won’t have somewhere to be then,” I smile. “And that’s the great thing about living down here. I’ll start to wear a lot of dresses and get my tan back. We can have a garden every year and you can mow the lawn shirtless.”

“I’ll come in all hot and sweaty… breathing hard…” he trails off.

“And I’ll make sure I’m not wearing any underwear beneath my dress. I’ll get you some lemonade and then you can bend me over the kitchen table.”

“Sex and lemonade… sounds like a great way to spend the summer,” he smiles.

“And then we eat salads made out of ingredients from our garden,” I say. “Oh and the whole adorable baby thing.”

“You’ll look beautiful all pregnant in a bikini.”

“You want to see me in a bikini while I’m pregnant?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Why not? I plan on seeing you naked so why not in a bikini?”

“I don’t know,” I shrug. “You just said it like it’s a fetish or something.”

“No, not a fetish. I don’t have a secret stash of pictures of half naked pregnant women,” he says.

“The only secret stash of pictures you have better be the ones I gave you,” I smile.

“You’ve seen my stash,” Eric wiggles his eyebrows. “You’ve enjoyed my stash a few times yourself, if memory serves.”

“There’s something really hot about the up close ones of you buried in me,” I shrug. “I don’t even care if that’s narcissistic.”

“I think it’s art.”

“Honey, your cock alone is a piece of art. Seeing it do what it’s meant to do is just…” I trail off and get goosebumps at the memory of those particular pictures. “You know, you’re lucky you can watch that going on all the time.”

“Maybe we need to fuck in front of a mirror so you can watch next time. I’ll go slow.”

I bite my lip and nod. “I’d like that.”

“Or…” he trails off hesitantly. “I could take video on your phone for you.”

“Yes!” I say, surprising him. I don’t even have to think about it. “Only I’d rather use the good camera we have at home. And before you ask, yes, I’ve thought about this for a while.”

“Wow. You’re sure about this?”

“You’re not going to show anyone, are you?”

“Hell no.”

“Then yeah I’m sure,” I smile, and reach over to put my hand on his leg. “I want to document how hot I was before I pushed out Northman babies. When my boobs were still perky and my stomach didn’t have stretch marks and a little pooch that’ll never go away.”

“I think you’ll be sexier after you have babies,” Eric says.

“You think I’ll be sexier with saggy boobs and stretch marks?”

I know the good guys say that, but I never really think they actually mean it.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

“Just wait until I get to prove it.”

“Honey, even I think that I’m hotter now than I’ll be after kids. Just like I’m hotter now than what I’ll be when I’m sixty. It’s okay if you think I won’t be as sexy after I pop out some kids.”

“Why do you want to talk me out of it?” Eric asks. “Just let me win this one.”

“Because it’s a lie. A nice lie, but a lie. But if you really still think I’m sexy after I have a baby then I’ll eat crow.”

“You better look for a recipe,” he says with a wink.

“You’re too sweet,” I smile over at him.

“And you’re too stubborn.” Eric picks up my hands to kiss it again. “But I’m crazy about you.”

Eric turns into the lot where the offices of someone named Selah Pumphrey are located and he parks the car.

“I’m crazy about you too,” I tell him, and lean over to kiss him before we get out of the car.

♦ ♦ ♦

Selah takes us around to all the houses, and even treats us to lunch at a local bar and grill called Merlotte’s once we get through the first four. It’s a nice place and seems to be a lunch hotspot for the town. The waitresses are nice, and the owner, Sam, comes out and introduces himself to us. He wishes us luck finding a home and says he hopes to see us around.

It’s got a nice, small town feel, and I’m falling in love with it.

We save the Compton house for last, and I’m hoping that I fall in love with it too because I haven’t really enjoyed any of the other houses. As we drive past my Gran’s old house I get a little nostalgic. The current owners seem to be taking great care of it because it looks well taken care of.

We pull up behind Selah at the Compton house and I already like it.

“Wow, it’s so huge,” I say.

“Huh. You said the same thing the first time you saw my–”

“Eric Northman!” I laugh. “That’s true, but shush.”

He laughs and turns off the car.

“Yes, dear.”

We get out of the car and Selah stands there smiling that salesman smile of hers. She’s nice, but clearly doing a job.

“Welcome to the Compton House,” she says. “It was built in the early 1800’s and has undergone several renovations since then.”

Selah walks us up the rickety front porch to the double front doors, which will probably need replacing, and unlocks the door. She pushes one of the doors open and gestures for us to step inside.

“The house has five bedrooms, two bathrooms, kitchen, living room, dining room, a mud porch, attic and a bonus room here on the first floor. It’s been vacant for the last six months and the owners are anxious to sell. The house sits on a ten acre lot, and there’s plenty of room for expanding if you’re interested in that sort of a project.”

“What about the paintings in here?” Eric points to a room to the left.

“The house is priced to sell as is, so everything in it comes with the house,” she says.

I actually love the feel of the house. Like I suspected, it has this energy to it that old places have. I feel at home here. I can see kids running up and down the stairs, through the big rooms. It needs a lot of work, but for the price, it’s a steal.

“I’m sure we could sell what we don’t want,” I say.

“The historical society would probably be happy to take those things off your hands,” Selah says. “And you never know what you might find in the walls if you do renovations. Folks around here got mighty creative when it came to hiding valuables from the Yankees.”

Eric heads for the staircase and as he climbs, the steps creak under his weight.

“These stairs are going to need work,” I say.

“I think everything needs work,” Eric says as he gets to the landing. “There’s a nice view from the windows up here.”

“That’s the master suite,” Selah says. “The bathroom was added on there in the 1920’s.”

“These rooms are so big,” I say. After being in an apartment in NYC for so long, even small houses seem huge.

“They are. There are twelve foot ceilings here on the first floor and there are lots of windows. The front of the house gets western exposure, so your master suite gets light from the east and the south. The fireplace is original to the house, including the mantle, which was hand carved by Jedediah Stackhouse,” Selah says.

“Stackhouse? That’s my family,” I say. I’ll have to look it up in the family bible Gran left me. I’m not religious so it doesn’t do much but sit in the safe at home, but there’s an elaborate family tree in the front.

“Really?” Selah looks surprised. “From my understanding Jedediah was a gifted carpenter and some of his work can still be found around town. He was commissioned by the parish to assist in the building of the first official offices here. The historical society uses that space for their museum now.”

“That’s amazing,” I smile. “My grandmother was born and raised here. The house on the other side of the cemetery was hers. The family sold it when she passed. I didn’t realize how much history the Stackhouses had here.”

“The local historians can tell you more, I’m sure,” she says as Eric comes back down.

“You should go check out the second floor,” he says. “Have you looked at the kitchen yet?”

“No, but let’s do that now,” I say, and Selah leads us into the kitchen.

Eric looks around and says, “We’re going to have to gut it. Are the plumbing and electrical things up to code?”

“It could use updating,” Selah says.

“I think we should get someone out here to inspect it first so we know just what we’re getting into,” I say.

“The owners are prepared to schedule a home inspection prior to closing.”

“Good. I don’t want the foundation to crumble on us a week after we move in,” Eric says.

“We know this house will require work, and we’re prepared for that, but we want to make sure it’s manageable,” I explain.

“Completely understandable. I always recommend a home inspection on these older homes, but this house has great bones.”

“It certainly seems to,” I say, and smile up at Eric. “So, what do you think?”

“I think you might have your lawn mowing dream realized if we move here,” Eric says. “I like it. I think it’s a lot of work, but it could be a fun adventure for us. Plus I’ll have fun teaching our kids to slide down the banister.”

“No you will not!” I laugh.

“We’ll see.”

“How soon can we get an inspection?” I ask Selah.

“You would need to put in an offer on the house first. If the offer is accepted, then an inspection would be scheduled. If the inspection comes back with a lot of costly repairs that need to be made you have two options. You can with pull out on the offer, or you can try to get the sellers to drop the price to help cover your costs,” Selah says.

“What do you think, honey?”

“Do you love it?” Eric asks me.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s perfect for what we want, we’ve already done research on the school district and it’s a low crime area.”

“Then I say we put in an offer,” he says with a smile.

“Okay,” I smile back, then look at Selah. “Well, we’d like to put in an offer.”

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