Love Under Construction (Love By Design 1)

“So what’s the game plan for the house?”

“Taylor Jane said a film crew from the college is coming over periodically to document the house’s transformation starting next week.”

“Lucky you, movie star.”

I wasn’t the type to be on television and I hoped like hell the film crew was smart enough to stay out of the way as the heavy work was being completed now.

“I hope not. If this is anything like those reality nightmare shows I am quitting done or not with the project.”

“Spoil sport and we all know you wouldn’t quit, so stop saying it.” Damien huffed.

“When are you coming over to start the plumbing work?”

Damien clinked bottles with me and downed his quickly. “Toward the end of the week. I’m finishing up a tub install. I’ve got to check Mrs. Landry’s pipes, if you know what I mean.” Damien gave me a look that said he was banging the older woman, and I shuddered, trying to scrub the image from my brain. Mrs. Landry was honing in on her late fifties, but she looks thirty-five at most. “I’m free after that.”

“Good.” I tried to not think about the next few weeks and made a mental list in my head of all the stuff that needed to get done between now and then. I was going to be busy circumventing Taylor Jane’s laundry list of items that could wait until we were ready for the finishing touches. I planned on dodging film students and the electrician to fix the outlets upstairs with the new wiring. We didn’t need any more events of the FUBAR level.

12

Taylor Jane

“All right, make sure you wear these hard hats and stay out of the direct construction. Hunter has safety tape and cones blocking off the areas he’s deemed unsafe for me, so follows those and you’ll be all right.” I passed a set of yellow hard hats to Matt and Logan, who were the film students assigned to the project. Both were young, well-groomed kids from the film department wearing faded jeans and tight white T-shirts over their metrosexual bodies. Logan held the camera, and Matt carried a clipboard with a light pole. “Now where is Hunter.…” I looked around the porch crisscrossed with what he called my TJ-safety tape, but I didn’t see him anywhere. He was probably still pissed at me for the whole bird thing. Who knew his feathers would get so ruffled after the encounter. I was glad I wasn’t driving him to get a rabies shot, and Mr. Hooter escaped the house without further incident.

“What the hell is this?”

I felt Hunter before I actually saw him and swung around, pasting a sunny smile on my face.

“Good morning, Hunter. How are you today? Feeling better?” Fake me smiled so hard my face hurt.

“Okay, I got the message.” Hunter’s curtness stung.

I guessed he didn’t want to exchange pleasantries. Heaving a heavy sigh, at least I tried.

“These are the film students, Matt and Logan. Remember? That whole must film this for the contest thing?” The only answer I got was a grunt, which told me enough and yet not anything at all.

“I can see that, Taylor Jane. Why are they in the middle of my demo?”

I looked inside the doorway to the exposed walls of the living room. Stacks of sheet rock were waiting to be put up after we found a huge electrical and duct problem that delayed finishing the room. Another wall had several holes in it, indicating that it would be the next wall opened up.

“Your demo?”

He huffed, removing the hammer from his belt, handing it to me as a sacrificial peace offering. My hand touched his ungloved one and a shiver of need zipped straight to my middle, leaving me in a puddle of want for my best friend.

“Our demo then. What are they doing in our demo, Miss Bryant?”

I pushed the hammer back into his hand and pushed him aside to usher the boys in with their gear. I felt hot and flustered. I shouldn’t be, but I did. Oh heavens… did I ever. I wondered if Pastor Rooney had any room at mass this Sunday because I had a butt load of confessing to do.

“Because, Mr. Sunshine,” I drawled out to tease him as he rolled his eyes at me. “I need them to film the progress of what’s going on here from the big stuff on.”

“Uh-huh.” Hunter didn’t look convinced and my eyes wandered inappropriately to my friend’s trim waist circled by his tool belt. A belt that would look great tied up somewhere. It was hard to picture the mechanics of it and Tumblr was sadly lacking in the construction porn that wasn’t from the 1970s with striped tube socks and blatantly obvious. I usually had to clear my browser history before I found anything good to jill off to. Besides, who needed the videos of strangers when Hunter filled out his T-shirts like a linebacker since high school? It was next to impossible to not notice his pecs pressed against what I imagined to be the softest cotton imaginable.

“Hey, girlfriend!”

My staring was interrupted by a big hug from behind. Louisa Cox owner of the Vodka and Wash and personal friend slash stylist was here to do makeup for the video. Kristen hooked us up and Louisa was happy to lend her skills for a small line in the credits.

“I am so excited to be here!” Squeals and jumping in the hallway left the boys looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“Woo! Girl on girl action and I’m missing it!” Damien yelled at us from the driveway, bringing in his tool box.