Love Under Construction (Love By Design 1)

I should know what he was working on, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember when Hunter was staring at me so intently. Louisa let me go and rooted in her pouch hanging off her belt.

“What is this?” Hunter’s growl stopped our enthusiastic reunion when Louisa bopped him in the face with a large pink poof ball from her own tool belt filled with makeup brushes.

“Makeup!” The poof dispensed a pearled glow over Hunter’s cheeks, highlighting his obvious displeasure and the angles of his face, which should have made him a cover model on every calendar from high school until now. I might have been a teeny bit biased.

Smacking his lips unsmiling, he stepped around us, addressing our little group, “I’m going to go help Damien in the bathroom.” He brushed past me down the hallway and missed playfully bumping into my shoulder like he normally would on purpose.

I missed the contact but kept the smile on my face because Logan was holding up a camera in our direction, catching everything. I needed to win this contest badly, so I pasted on my best smile.

I was still watching Hunter walk away when I was nudged into the kitchen.

?

??So tell me all about this beautiful house and when are you coming in for highlights?” Louisa had a genuine interest in the demo and remodeling of the house. I hired her to take care of the makeup to make everyone look presentable on film for the Home Design video story of flipping this house for the contest. I wasn’t about to let anything go to chance when I knew some of my classmates had entered as well. A cash prize followed by a season long television contract doing what I loved for a paycheck that could turn my dad’s life around was nothing to scoff at.

“It’s at least a hundred years old.”

“Obviously. It has that Children of the Field vibe.”

“Corn? Don’t you mean corn?” I told her as Louisa pushed her large frame vintage glasses farther up her nose, waving her hand away.

“Whatever, but these large open rooms are fantastic with the natural lighting.”

“Well, we do have a bit of the sheetrock down, so we can fix the electrical work Hunter’s grumpy about and the cable upgrades needed to be rerouted, but I’d like some crown molding at the top. We’re still negotiating the molding.”

“Beautiful. You were always sketching and coloring in high school, so I’m not surprised.”

“Yes, Kristen mentioned you wanted to redo the salon. I have some ideas if you’re interested.”

Her enthusiasm was contagious as she grabbed makeup applicators and started painting my face with small touches here and there. I had told her I wanted natural, but I didn’t want the guys to go crazy editing the tiny pimple on my chin either.

“I was thinking purple and snakeskin wallpaper with copper tones.” She made a pursing look with her lips, and I followed, letting her apply a natural looking lip gloss.

“Nice, but what about introducing a print somewhere? Snakeskin is vogue right now, but I don’t think it’s going to last more than two or three years tops and then you’re stuck with it for a while.”

“That’s true and I don’t want to compete with the salon across town that’s been around since we were in high school. I bought this place because I wanted something special and different.”

“Exactly!” I moved around the kitchen, cleaning and organizing to give the crew the next set of directions once the drywall and sheetrock were completed in the living room. We checked out paint chips until we heard a crash from the back of the house.

“Damien!” The walls shook with a yell that sounded like a bear with his paw caught in a trap and probably carried over to the neighbors next door and a few streets down.

“Oh my God, that’s Hunter!” I scrambled to the back bathroom where the guys were working this morning to stop short when the floor that used to be there was well… not there anymore, causing me to jump back.

Louisa tugged my shirt so I don’t actually fall into the hole that used to be solid flooring.

“Get back, Taylor Jane, before you fall through.” Hunter was up to his waist, legs submerged, and my antique tub was rocking precariously at an angle. The smell was awful, so bad my eyes started to burn, and I wondered how Hunter was just standing there almost frozen and rooted to the spot.

My hand covered my mouth and nose at the new stench filling the room. “Oh my God,” I muttered.

“God has nothing to do with that smell.” One of my film rookies mumbled shining a light into the room.

“I’d say we’ve got significant floor rot in this room right here.” Damien nodded his head up and down and the film crew hovered over my shoulder, the microphone pitched above my head catching each deep breath I struggled to take with the smell.

“You fucking think so, genius. Pull me out of here.” Hunter started swinging his hammer when Damien got close.

“We’re going to have to edit that for language.” Matt, Logan, I wasn’t sure who said that. Hunter glared from his semi-submerged state. The lighting in the room was off, but I swore he was turning purple making me worry.

“God, what is that smell? Demon, did you shit your pants today?” Kristen called out from behind us, trying to squeeze in and join the circus.