It’s like the entire town decided to show up and dig my dirt.
It’s mid-morning. Did businesses close? For this?
Tucker stops beside me, handing me a pair of gloves. “I told you this place just needed a little love.”
When I turn toward him, he has a satisfied grin plastered on his face. The kind you wear when something you believed in turns out exactly the way you said it would.
“Why are you smiling like that?” I ask.
Slowly, as if the world just came to a stop on its axis, he turns to face me. The look on his face is enough to make me lose my breath. Again. He leans in close, enough that if he wanted to, he could press his lips to mine and?—
“Because the alternative is kissing you,” he admits. He reaches up, wanting to brush any hair away from my face, but stops himself. “And I’m trying to behave.”
My heart skips about ten beats, and I force myself to breathe. But Nan bustles past us, dragging an entire shrub behind her in one hand like it offended her so much that she had to murder it. The hedge clippers swing wildly in her free hand. “This bush was blocking the view out the front window,” she declares, huffing like a warrior queen.
She’s been here for all of ten minutes and has already removed an entire bush and has dirt streaked under her eyes resembling war paint.
“Nan!” Tucker calls after her. “You can’t just dig up anything you see. There are water lines under those bushes.”
“Good!” Nan shouts over her shoulder. “The plants are thirsty.”
“I think I love her.”
He chuckles, and it does something to my knees.
For the next hour, the entire town gets to work as the sun climbs higher in the sky. The camera crew and Andrea make their way through every inch of the yard, catching everything without getting in the way.
Dallas and Griffin coax the kids into hauling the fallen branches into neat piles close to the curb, turning it into a minicompetition. I learned that the kids are all a part of a little league in town that Dallas coaches. I can see the way they nod in response to anything he says, and how they respect and listen to him.
Lily walks around the yard with Autumn next to her, fueling the entire town with caffeine and baked goods.
Poppy and Blair are in the driveway. Poppy has her hands on her knees and is laughing hysterically at Blair wrestling the power washer while Blair continues to say she knows what she’s doing, telling everyone she learned how to power wash her tiny home herself when she first showed up in town.
I make my way to where they stand to see if I can help.
“I got this,” Blair repeats. “Poppy, flip the power on this bitch. Let’s do it.”
I hold my breath, stepping back to avoid being impaled by the pressure.
She aims it down and takes a ready stance. Poppy flips the power on, and Blair remains in control as the moss lifts like magic.
I laugh—a real laugh.
And it has everything to do with everyone being here.
Suddenly, belonging doesn’t feel like a foreign language.
I’m smiling, but inside, I’m choking up. The emotions sit on the edge, waiting to break free at the people who aren’t my family, who are here to help me with this project. They believe in me more than anyone has ever believed in me before.
I want to soak up every minute in.
I want to remember this feeling forever.
The spell is broken when something roars to life behind me. I spin around to find Tucker starting up the weed wacker. My eyes trail his body—his very exposed body. He’s wearing a pair of worn jeans with his tank top hanging out of the back pocket. I can see every rigid muscle between his abdomen and his flexed muscle in his arms. Not to mention, the baseball cap sittingbackward on his head should be illegal. I can’t stop staring at him—even though I know I shouldn’t.
We’re towing a thin, fragile line that burns hotter every time we pretend it isn’t there.
I want to cross it all over again. Over and over.
