She means about me disappearing again.
She doesn’t need to say it for me to know what she’s asking.
I nod. “I meant what I said, Scottie. Every word.”
Her shoulders drop in relief, like she’s been holding that for too long. “Good.”
I exhale, feeling the doubt that I went too far with her, slipping away. Quiet stretches between us in a way that makes it feel like we should probably say something else, but neither of us know how to without tipping it into something bigger.
She glances at the ladder, and then back to me.
“You shouldn’t be up the ladder by yourself.”
“Levi is here.”
She huffs. “You sent him away to get something. What if you fell while he was gone?”
“You don’t trust me on the ladder, Scottie?” I tease.
“Of course I don’t,” she scoffs. “You do dumb things.”
I turn my head, looking down at her. “I do?”
She crosses her arms. “Don’t think the crew didn’t tell me about you climbing a ladder just like this while holding a circular saw yesterday.”
I breathe a sigh of relief that she didn’t think one of the dumb things I did was show up and make her come all over my hand. I roll my eyes. “That was one time.”
“You’re basically a trip to the hospital waiting to happen.”
I prop my hip on the tallest part of the ladder, grinning down at her like a fool. “You worried about me, babe?”
The word slips out way too easily. The second I hear it leave my lips, something warm flickers through my chest because I didn’t call her that for the cameras. I said it because it felt natural.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she huffs, averting her gaze the moment her cheeks turn pink. “I’d just be annoyed if you got hurt. This whole show would fall apart.”
My smile grows wider, and I adjust my body again on the ladder. It wobbles, just slightly. But Scottie reaches forward to grab my calf to hold me steady—gasping.
Everything in me stills.
Her fingers grip tight, and I can feel the shaking of her hands through my jeans.
“Careful,” she blurts out quickly. “If you fall, I…” The words die as she bites back the rest of the sentence.
“What? Do you think I’ll sue?” I offer the joke to calm her panic.
She exhales. “I’ll have to find another contractor.”
“Touching,” I deadpan.
She flusters. “You’re barely replaceable. Don’t let it get to your head.”
“Barely?” I shoot her a lopsided grin and shrug. “I’ll take it.”
Her eyes remain fixed on where her hands grip my calves, before she slowly trails them up my body until they settle on mine. They don’t sparkle, but there’s something in them I’ve only seen twice with her.
Unguarded.
Vulnerable.
