Love Redesigned (Lakefront Billionaires #1) by Lauren Asher

“I’m being serious, but if you don’t want my help, then that’s fine.”

Her comment sobers me. “You want to help me? Really?”

“Sure. At least until the New Year.”

The knot in my stomach tightens. “You still plan on leaving so soon?”

“Without a busy filming schedule, I can finally tackle Design by Dahlia’s mile-long waitlist. Some of those clients have been waiting over two years for my services.”

“You can’t design their houses from here?” The question slips out.

“Uhh…I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.”

That’s not a no, so I’ll take it. Dahlia needs a special kind of challenge, and it’s up to me to figure out what.





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE


Dahlia


After spending the last five minutes questioning my sanity, I grab Julian and bring him into the house.

“What are we—”

“Shh!” I whisper.

Julian wipes his forehead with the bottom of his T-shirt, giving me a glimpse of his abs.

A low rumble akin to furniture being dragged across the floor has the hairs on my arms rising. “That! Did you hear it?”

“It’s probably Ryder upstairs drilling something.”

My eyes widen. “That’s not possible. Ryder and the rest of the team left an hour ago.”

Usually, I would also have headed out, but I didn’t want to ditch Julian, so I stuck around and took advantage of my newly healed left arm. Without the cast, I’m able to work throughout the house on little projects, like paint swatches, testing wallpaper samples, and obsessing over whether or not I should picture-frame mold half the house.

Another scraping noise has me stepping closer to Julian. “I know you heard that one.”

“Are you sure Ryder left?” he asks.

I nod. “Positive.”

Julian shrugs. “It could be materials rubbing—”

“Together as the house cools down. Yeah, no. I’m not buying it, Mr. I Don’t Believe In…” I let the statement hang.

“Ghosts?”

I press my index finger against my lips. “Shh! Don’t say the word!”

His eyes roll as the chandelier above our heads flickers.

“Ah!” I shriek and clasp Julian’s hand in a death grip.

He attempts to pry my fingers off, but to no avail. “Can you relax?”

I scowl. “You know what happens when you tell an anxious person to relax?”

“What?”

I squeeze his hand harder. “The complete freaking opposite!”

His heavy sigh comes off as condescending. “The electrical crew was here today working on that same chandelier.”

A sudden cold draft blasts through the air vents, sending the hairs on my arms rising. “Want to explain that?”

“Explain what?”

“Forget it.” My voice drops low enough for only Julian to hear. “I think he’s here.”

“Who is here?”

“G.B.,” I squeak.

“G.B.?” He pauses for a few seconds. “Oh. Gerald Baker?”

“Are you for real right now?” I pinch him between the ribs.

He rubs the sore spot. “Ow. What was that for?”

“Don’t say his name aloud.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.”

I frown. “I swear, it’s like you have never seen a scary movie before.”

“Why?”

“Because you wouldn’t be saying that if you had.”

“What happens to the person who says that?” he asks with a neutral tone, although his eyes glimmer with hidden amusement.

“They end up like G.B.” I drag my middle finger across my throat and make a slashing noise.

“You’re so—” His voice cuts out, along with the electricity.

“Julian!” I wrap my arms around his waist.

He pulls out his cell phone and turns on the flashlight, nearly blinding me. I’m too afraid to extract myself, so I hold on like a baby monkey as he walks toward the stairs.

I dig my feet into the floor in a wasted attempt to stop him. “Where are you going?”

“To go find the breaker panel.” He attempts to break my hold.

“No!”

A chilling sound echoes through the house.

Julian’s eyes widen.

My voice drops. “What the hell was that?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “I don’t know.”

“Did that sound like Ryder to you?”

“Maybe a wounded animal got into the attic?”

“Yeah, and what? Bit the electrical cables and caused a power outage?”

He makes a face. “Plausible. It happened once with a lizard that fell into a power box at one of our sites.”

I rub my throbbing temple. “Will you stop being so damn logical for once?”

“Would you prefer for me to break out into hysterics like you?”

“I am not breaking out into hysterics.”

Another hair-raising sound echoes through the corridor above, followed by the ominous sound of a hacking cough.

Julian only makes it up one step before my fingernails are embedded into his arm.

“You can’t go up there.”