“No, I don’t.”
“You do.” I step forward, cupping the side of her face, eager to touch her again, even if my cock was inside of her an hour ago. I brush the apple of her cheek with my thumb, rubbing the imaginary paint away. The whole room seems to disappear at the moment. This is how I imagine telling her how I feel—in her element, where we both connected on a deeper level. But again, I fucking don’t.
“There. Got it,” I whisper.
When I pull my hand away, her body sways as if she didn’t want me to let go.
Andrea clears her throat and shouts, “Okay. Last episode. Let’s make it a good one.”
Scottie turns to face the camera, instantly smiling brightly. “Over the last few episodes, I’ve learned a lot about this house. My goal from the start was to make it shine again because I know that’s what my grandma would have wanted.” She moves around the entryway, fingertips trailing along an old table sitting on one wall, and peeling wallpaper on another. “To me…crossing that front door into the entryway, it’s the first thing you see when you step inside the house. It’s where your guests get the first impression. Where they kick off their shoes and stay a while. But right now, it’s giving…haunted ghost.”
I snort, and so does half the crew.
She looks at me. “What?”
“Haunted ghost? Is that your professional design term?”
She reaches for a corner of the wallpaper, peeling it delicately as if it might bite her. “Look at this pattern. It’s like the flowers are judging me.”
I shrug. “Hey, maybe they are. They’ve been here longer than you.”
“Tucker, do not side with the wallpaper.” She narrows her eyes, stepping close to me. She covers the mic clipped on her with her hand as she whispers, “You’re not being a very supportive fake boyfriend.”
I bop her finger on her nose, leaning into her ear and away from my mic. “Good thing none of this is fake anymore.” Her breath catches, but she doesn’t move. “We moved past that stage a long time ago, baby. I can show everyone right now if you’d like.”
Scottie laughs, red-cheeked, facing the camera. “Well—” She clears her throat just before running her hands down her pants. I can’t help the smile on my face. “Anyway. We’re going to rip down all of this wallpaper, freshen up the trim, and then we’re going to paint somethingbold.”
“Define…bold.”
With her hands out in front of her, she paints a picture for the world to see. “A color that makes you feel something when you walk in.”
“The entryway doesn’t need to punch people in the face, you know? Everything else in the house is warm and calm and inviting.”
“First impression, Tucker. Remember?”
I cross my arms. “Neutral also can set the tone for a welcoming environment.”
I briefly see a look of disappointment cross her face. It’s not enough for anyone else to see, but I see it. I always see it.
This is her project.
This is her house.
“What color were you thinking?” I ask before she says anything more.
She looks at me, unsure. “I’m thinking about a deep teal. Like a lake at midnight.”
“That’s…actually not terrible.”
“Really?”
I shrug, trying to hold onto the skepticism even as she beams. “Don’t let it get to your head.”
For the next few hours, Scottie, myself, and my crew demo the entire room. The crew almost hauls away the entryway table, but Scottie insists she wants to keep it and work on it later. It’s an old, light oak colored table that doesn’t match. But she wants to sand it down and repurpose it.
We remove all the old trim and replace it with a more vibrant white to accent the flooring with the new wall color. All the old wallpaper is removed, and it feels like the smell of old perfume went with it.
By the time we finish that, Levi comes back with the paint can.
