Silas looks at the bird.
“Thanks, buddy. You’re the only one who understands me.”
“STOP! HANDS OFF THE TOOLS!”
Tina’s whistle slices through the air, making us both jump. My hand—which had been accidentally brushing Sloane’s waist for the hundredth time under the excuse of steadying the mirror—freezes midair.
“Hands up! Step away from the particle board!”
I drop the screwdriver with a sigh that’s half relief, half sexual frustration.
Our vanity is standing.
It’s solid.
The mirror is mostly straight.
And we don’t have any leftover pieces to smuggle into our pockets.
Sloane pushes to her feet and wipes her hands on her leggings—a move so stupidly sexy in its simplicity I have to fight the urge to dirty her all over again.
“We did it,” she says, sounding almost surprised.
“Told you I’ve got great hands,” I murmur, stepping close enough to feel the heat rolling off her after all that effort.
I brush my thumb over her cheek, wiping away a smudge.
She closes her eyes at the touch, leaning—just barely—into my palm.
For a moment, the chaos of the room fades.
The cameras don’t exist.
“Nice work, partner,” I murmur.
“And now… THE JUDGMENT!” Tina bellows, climbing down the ladder. “Remember: this is only the first round. Today’s points will be averaged with the rest of this week’sDomestic Harmonychallenges—but my personal approval?”
She grins. “That’s earned right now.”
Tina begins her inspection lap, Pedro swooping from perch to perch behind her, squawking verdicts like a feathered executioner.
First stop: Bernie and Esther.
It’s both adorable and catastrophic.
Their vanity looks nothing like the picture on the box—they’ve mounted the mirror horizontally and are using it as a candy tray for butterscotch. Bernie confidently explains that it’s a Cubist interpretation of Scandinavian design. Tina fights a laugh, shakes her head fondly, and mutters something about creativity triumphing over technique.
A few feet over, the vibe is much less artistic.
At the Fit-Fluencers’ station, Chad is literally holding the vanity upright with one hand while flexing his bicep for the camera. The moment Tina points out that the whole thing will collapse the second he lets go, he launches into a defense involving “active muscular support.”
Her expression turns arctic.
Failed.
Beyond appeal.
The tour moves on to Roxanne and Dave.
