I almost laugh to myself at how easily I believe my own rules.
CHAPTER 8
DO YOU EVER STOP ARGUING WITH ME?
Tucker
I had to walk away.
I just needed one minute to catch my breath after hearing her talk and do her first segment for the cameras. She’s…captivating. The way the light catches her golden blonde hair—bright and soft at the same time. Just watching her in front of a house that’s standing on its last leg, she somehow manages to bring life back into the property again.
I mean, hell, if anyone can bring this place back to life, maybe it’s her.
Watching from off to the side, I see the crew gathering up their things to make it toward the front porch. Andrea scans the front lawn, finds me, and waves me over. It takes me a minute, but I push off the old work truck and allow my feet to cross the yard to where everyone stands.
With every step I take, my mind can’t help but travel back to that night with Scottie. I know I agreed to do this whole fake dating on screen thing with her, but I’m struggling to stuff down the way my body reacts to her. The need to be near her—to look at her.
“We’re going to start your segment out here,” Andrea tells me. “Let’s get a mic pack on you.”
They waste no time tucking a mic pack into the back pocket of my jeans and snaking it up the front of my shirt to clip onto the neckline of my T-shirt. I can’t help but smirk when I notice Scottie’s eyes trailing to my exposed abdomen when they lift my shirt.
“See something you like?”
Her gaze snaps up to mine, glaring. “Just figuring out how I can grab hold of that cord and strangle you with it.”
I laugh. “You wound me, Scottie.”
She rolls her eyes, and we both face Andrea. “You two act like you’ve been married for years. It’s wild.”
I almost snort. Married? Hell, I don’t even date. I don’t build anything with someone that can fall apart in my hands. I’m much better off keeping my life simple and unattached to anyone, otherwise I risk someone knocking down every wall I’ve ever put up.
This arrangement with Scottie…it’s nothing more than that.
The film crew gives us the signal they’re ready. We both set up, and the camera faces us. “We’re rolling in three…two…” And they point toward us, and a red light flashes on.
“This here is my…contractor, Tucker Daniels,” Scottie says. Andrea rolls a finger in the air, urging her to continue. “But he also happens to be my boyfriend,” Scottie adds hesitantly, and Andrea nods in approval.
I lift a hand to the air in greeting. “Hey there. Guess I’m the lucky guy who gets to turn all this”—I gesture behind us at the house— “into whatever she’s dreamed up.”
Scottie tilts her head to look at me. “You mean whateverwe’vedreamed up.”
“That’s what I said, babe.”
The crew behind the camera chuckles.
Looking down at her, I smile when I see her eyes still on me,so sharp I swear they can shoot daggers right through me. “You didn’t,” she says through gritted teeth.
I wrap an arm around her, pulling her into me, and I laugh. “No, but it sounded better when you said it.”
Scottie clears her throat, and I don’t miss the way her cheeks pink as she looks back to the camera. “For our walk through, let’s start with the porch. It’s supposed to be the most welcoming part of the home, and as you can see,” she says, gesturing around us. “It’s kind of scary to be honest.”
She laughs and just like every other time I’ve heard that sound from her, it settles into me. In an easy and familiar way, doing nothing to help my focus on the cameras in front of me.
“When I picture this porch finished,” she continues, “I can see a hanging loveseat swing off to the side here.” She smiles as she looks from the empty space to the small roof above us and back to the space. “A nice throw blanket over?—”
“A swing won’t hold.”
Her eyes widen briefly, as if taken back by the suddenness of my voice. “What do you mean?”
