"Your furniture is great, but you're right." Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she looked around. "It could use a picture or two on the walls."

I pointed to a tiny, four by six photograph that I had hanging in the kitchen. "I've got pictures. See? That's one of my very first motorcycle."

She walked over to the picture and studied it for a minute. "Um … Diesel, that's a moped. It's just like the one my brother used to have, except this one is missing the little wire basket on the front."

"What? You've gotta be shitting me." I smirked, knowing very well that it was, indeed, a moped. My stepfather had given it to me when I turned twelve, and it was a gift that left a lasting impression. "That sweet ride right there is a Honda PA50 1978 Hobbit."

"Yeah. Well, I hate to break it to you, but that sweet ride is a moped." The light in her eyes danced as she laughed, making her even more irresistible. I could actually feel myself being pulled towards her as she continued, "But don't worry. I won't hold it against you."

"Good to know."

After she took a quick look around the kitchen, she went back into the living room and stood by the windows. As she stared out at the ocean, she said, "You were right. The view really is amazing."

"I'm glad you think so."

"With a view like this, you should have a porch or a little patio. I could see myself spending an entire day out there just looking out at the ocean, drinking my coffee and reading."

"I hadn't thought about that, but you're right. It would be cool."

"Be warned. If you build one, I might never leave." She teased.

I liked the idea of her staying there more than I cared to admit.

"I'll keep that in mind."