“Like these drawings. They’re awesome. You win that lap every time.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Will didn’t have to look at her to know the apology hadn’t hit its mark. But when he opened his eyes, her focus was on him.
“Want to see?” She nibbled her lower lip, her eyes dancing. It was that slightly nervous excitement he loved.
“I picked the handles and the faucet,” Andy announced as he reached for the long rolls of design paper. “And when she does the 3D walk-through, it’s so cool. It’s just like on the show!”
Aly rubbed her brother’s head, the tension between them gone. “Go ahead. Roll one out.” Aly held one end steady so Andy could pull the other across the table. “This is just a printout.”
When the mock-up was unveiled, the Gomez siblings jumped into explanations and descriptions almost simultaneously. Although details weren’t as precise in the black and white design, the fact that it matched his house stood out.
He never could have described his dream kitchen, but as he ran his finger over the large wooden hood above the island, it felt like Aly had gotten in his head and dug around for the exact style he’d want.
“Here’s the 3D tour.” Aly spun her laptop and hit play.
Amazed by the rendering, Will sucked in a breath. His parents’ kitchen table fit in perfectly with the design, and the blue of the backsplash was deep and warm, with hints of navy and cerulean and midnight.
“It’s perfect, Al.” He squeezed her thigh.
“Yeah?” She smiled the first real smile since they’d gotten home.
He nodded. Before now, he’d been hesitant to redo the kitchen. But there was no doubt in his mind that this was exactly what the space should look like. This was the heart of the home, where he’d be with his family. He stared at Andy and Aly, realizing he had no idea what her long-term plans were. And that needed to be discussed when it was just the two of them.
CHAPTER20
She pressedher finger against the smooth chip, forcing the metallic sliver into the mortar at just the right angle. She’d have this design done in a few hours, and then they could add the grout tomorrow.
Although the master bath was lit up and the cameras were rolling, the house was quiet. This was her favorite way to work. The hours when she could create in peace. Mosaics were time-consuming, and the work was for a single person, so it made little sense to have an entire crew on set. Tonight, she worked alone. The footage of her would eventually be edited.
The quiet gave her time to think. For the last year, worries about her brother had plagued her, running on a constant loop in her mind. But today, her thoughts drifted to her time in this house. The place that no longer looked like her childhood home. A few years ago, she would have been devastated at the idea of selling it. But time and financial burden had changed her perspective. Now, being released from this house felt like freedom.
It didn’t feel like home. Not anymore. Thoughts of home brought up visions of knotted wood floors and detailed moldings. And a man who smelled like cedarwood. Whose smile flipped her stomach.
She pressed in another small chip of glass-like tile. The design on the floor was turning out beautifully.
“Hey, you.” The deep voice shot through her like a current.
He stood at the door, his dark hair brushing across his forehead. A hint of a smile danced on his lips just above the scruff on his face.
“Will.” Her voice sounded embarrassingly breathless, but holy moly, he looked good in that blue sweater and ripped jeans.
“Garry asked me to swing by.” He leaned against the door, crossing one black boot over the other. “It’s a ratings ploy, but I told him I won’t step on camera until you okay it.”
She crossed her arms, unintentionally drawing Will’s gaze to the scoop of her tank top. “This entire house is wired. You were on camera before you even stepped onto the porch.”
Slowly, he brought his attention back to her face. “Give me an okay to be here, Al, or tell me to go.”
“I’m always happy to see you.”
“Damn right.” He stalked toward her and pulled her into his arms, brushing his fingers along the bare skin between her leggings and tank top as he pressed his warm lips against her forehead. “You look fucking edible right now,” he whispered in her ear.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Aly admitted, fighting the blush that cursed her when she admitted her feelings.
“Don’t temp me.” He released her and studied the floor. “I like the pattern; it’s turning out great. Do you know how talented you are?”
On set was the one place she felt talented. This, she was good at. Other stuff, not as much.