But I know for sure, this isn’t just letting Tucker fuck me.
This is me letting him incompletely.
My body relaxes on top of him, his chest rising and falling as he comes down from his release. Wrapping his arms around me, he holds me close. I turn my head, and I can feel the pounding of his heart on the side of my face.
“Tucker,” I say softly.
“Mm-hmm?”
“Thank you.”
He lifts my head with the back of his finger, his expression unreadable in the low light. “You don’t have to thank me for sex.”
I feel my cheeks heat. “That’s not,” I start, choking on a laugh. “That’s not what I’m thanking you for, Tucker.” He holds my gaze, tilting his head to the side. “Thank you for being honest. For not pretending. For letting me see the part of you that you keep tucked away from the world.”
He spins us around until I’m flat on my back and he’s hovering over me. He brushes the messy hair away from my faceand then drops his forehead down to mine. I feel his uneven breaths against my lips.
“Every time, Scottie,” he continues. “I may have fucked up the first time, but I’ll choose you every time.”
There’s no hesitation in his words.
And it’s at this moment that I believe him.
EPISODE SEVEN
MASTER OF THE SECRETS AND PAST
Welcome back!Today, we’re stepping into the most personal space of the house. The master bedroom. It’s not as bad as some of the other projects. We just have to tackle some water-stained plaster from a window that has been cracked for too long, warped floors, and a closet door that’s seen better days. It’s a room begging for a fresh start.
But not everything hidden is meant to be torn out.
And when Tucker and Scottie pull up the old flooring, they uncover more than damage. They find pieces of the past neither of them expect.
As emotions run high, Tucker becomes more than just the contractor holding it all together.
Some renovations change rooms.
Others change everything.
CHAPTER 25
DO WE THINK THIS ROOM WILL FIGHT US?
Tucker
Nothing about this house feels the same as it did last week.
Maybe it’s because we spent a few days working on the yard, and now that we’re back inside, we’re seeing all the little jobs that got done during that time. Time is flying, and I hate to admit it, but I’m not sure how I’ll feel when this project is over.
Is Scottie staying here at this house?
Is she planning to sell it and move back home?
These are the kind of unknowns that have consumed my mind since she stayed at my house the other night. The night we crossed the line where there’s no coming back from. There’s no denying that both of us were sprinting toward it, though. There was no awkwardness about it either. There was no discussion about whether she should sleep over or what it meant. She just…stayed—curled to my side like it’s where she’s belonged all along. And I stayed awake longer than I should have, taking it all in.
It felt like a dream.
I was afraid that if I closed my eyes, she wouldn’t be there.
