Chapter 19 #2
“It’s fine,” Lily says, sitting up again with a devious smile on her face. “I got my revenge when I made him try my new experimental muffins before they were ready.”
“What was wrong with them?”
“They were…dense.”
Blair chokes on a laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. They could’ve been used as building materials.”
“Perfect for Tucker,” I say with a laugh.
Blair’s eyes flicker at his name. Lily’s do too.
“Speaking of Tucker,” Lily says first. “I’m telling you this with love, but the entire town is talking about you two.”
My stomach bottoms out. “Talking about us, how?”
Blair scoffs. “How do you think? He’s the head contractor on your team, you two are working very closely together all day, and you argue like it’s foreplay—”
“Blair!” Lily cuts her off.
“And a few people saw you stay late at the bar after karaoke night,” Blair continues. “Someone even thought you two were already engaged by the way Tucker was looking at you.”
I turn and give Lily a knowing look, because she was the reason I was still there waiting for a ride, but she averts her gaze and tightens her lips. “To be fair, that same woman thinks anyone within six inches of each other is engaged. But still, people are noticing.”
“What exactly are they noticing?” I ask.
Blair sighs. “They’re noticing the same thing the producers noticed. The chemistry. The spark! And there’s no denying the way Tucker looks at you when he thinks no one is watching.”
My breath shudders, barely noticeable but enough to betray me.
My brain is now doing backflips because, of course, they noticed.
Of course, everyone noticed. Tucker doesn’t exactly do subtle when he’s staring at me like I’m the only person in the room.
I know the look everyone sees, I’ve felt it burn along my skin when the cameras weren’t rolling, and I’ve seen it soften behind closed doors when he’s done pretending.
But hearing them say it?
Hearing someone else notice it?
I shake my head, heat crawling up my neck. “I don’t…I mean, I’m not—”
Lily holds up a hand. “I know you’re freaking out, but you should also know we’re thrilled about it.”
“For what it’s worth…” Blair starts, smiling, “Tucker’s different around you. Even before we knew any of this.”
“The only time both of us have ever been around you two together is that night at Seven Stools though.”
“It was all we needed to see,” Lily says softly.
We sit in silence for a moment, the conversation stalling while Tucker’s name flows through my head.
But I know, deep down, it isn’t really about him.
It’s about how easily Blair and Lily saw something real when I’ve spent years making sure everything in my life looked controlled and impressive enough to defend.
Even my feelings.
Especially my feelings.
And for the past two weeks, working on the house, everything has felt off.
It has nothing to do with Tucker and everything to do with the unsettling truth that I still can’t feel this place the way I keep telling everyone I do.
I haven’t figured out a way to voice my feelings, but this moment feels right.
I keep my eyes on the glass in my hands. “Can I tell you something…without judgment or pity?”
I lift my eyes to see their reaction, and they both go still and then slowly nod.
“No pity here,” Lily says, placing a hand on my thigh. “Just vibes and maybe some sarcasm.”
I inhale, and it feels like inhaling broken glass. “I don’t feel…what I thought I would.”
Blair tilts her head.
“You mean with the fake relationship on screen with Tucker?” Lily asks.
I shake my head. “With the house. This project.” Blair sits forward in her seat, worry on her face and I let out a nervous laughter. “I know…this is very opposite of what we were just talking about. But it’s been something I’ve needed to get out.”
“You’re safe with us,” Blair assures me.
I offer her a thankful smile. “You see…my dad told me a story about how when my grandfather died before I was born, the house lost its shine. So, coming to Bluestone Lakes and taking on this project for the show, I made that my goal.”
“I love that,” Lily says with a smile.
I pick at the invisible thread of my sweatpants. “I’ve gone through every room of that house. Some of them we’ve already completed. Every cabinet and every closet,” I say. “And there are no photos, no boxes, no old letters, no nothing. Nothing that I can connect with. It’s…just a house.”
Blair frowns. “That’s kind of sad.”
“It is,” I whisper. “I was hoping for even the smallest bit of memories to be here when I showed up. I didn’t even know she died when I was thirteen.”
“What?” Lily gasps.
I nod. “My dad told me when I got offered this season of Nailed It or Failed It. I didn’t know I needed to supply a house for the project and he told me about this one and how it was left to me. I was left a house by a grandparent I can’t even remember for the life of me.”
“Scottie,” Blair whispers sympathetically.
I point a finger at her and force a smile. “Hey, I said no pity.”
She holds up her hands in defense. “I can’t help it. I feel things deeply, okay?”
We laugh lightly—and it feels good.
“My issue is that I keep saying I’m doing this for her. For my grandmother. To make it shine again like it’s some big, emotional full circle moment.”
“But?” Lily asks gently.
“But this house…it doesn’t feel like anything more than a project to help me prove to my mom that renovation and DIY work is more than a hobby for me.” I let my eyes trail down to my fingers clasped together in my lap as the familiar ache creeps into my ribs. “And I fucking hate that feeling.”
Lily reaches over, taking my hand in hers.
“I am so sorry you’ve had to go through that.
From watching you work here on this house and stalking you on social media—shamelessly,” she says, looking at Blair who nods her head in approval as if she made sure Lily saw my work.
She turns to face me again. “I can tell you love what you do. You put your heart and soul into it, and that alone tells us this isn’t a hobby for you.
It’s your life. It’s your job. And you’re able to make sage green cabinets look like the eighth wonder of the world. ”
I choke on a laugh, completely unexpected. “But they are the eighth wonder of the world.”
“You’re right,” Lily smiles widely. “So let’s not let anyone convince you otherwise.”
“It helps when your two worlds collide, too,” Blair cuts in. “When I first moved here, baking was my hobby. I loved it and lived in my kitchen back in the city. After I met Lily when I got to town and she offered me a job at Batter Up, I nearly kissed her feet.”
“It’s true,” Lily agrees.
Blair exhales and leans back in her chair.
“Look, all I’m saying is that everyone acts like the only real careers are the ones that look miserable from the outside.
But most people who actually make it big?
They start with the thing they’d do for free.
They just refuse to stop when everyone else tells them it’s not practical or realistic. ”
“That’s…” I start, but shake my head in disbelief. “That’s exactly what I’ve heard over and over again from my mom.”
Lily squeezes my hand. “A hobby doesn’t stay a hobby when you build a life around it. It becomes a craft. A career. A calling.” Her words get louder with every one she says.
“Are you going to keep going?” Blair asks.
“A gift. A message,” she continues with rapid and dramatic hand movements.
“We get it, Lil.” Blair says to her and then faces me. “What I think she’s trying to say is that a hobby is what you do when you’re bored. A career is what you build when you’re brave enough to bet on yourself.”
Brave enough to bet on yourself.
I’ve spent so long trying to prove this to my mom that I didn’t stop to consider whether I believed it, too. And for the first time since I got here, it doesn’t feel like I’m defending my dream, it feels like I’m standing in it.
“And about the house,” Lily says. “If you haven’t been able to find a single thing, you should talk to Nan. She knows every single thing about this town and the people in it or used to be in it.”
“Really?”
She nods. “I’m sure she can help you find what you’re looking for and probably has pictures around somewhere, knowing her.”
“Thank you. This means a lot to me. I will definitely have to talk to her as soon as I can.”
“Anytime,” Lily says, leaning back. I go to take a sip of my drink and the devilish grin is back on her face. “Sooo, circling back to our prior conversation. You like Tucker?”
I nearly choke on my drink and groan. “Lily, we were having such a nice moment.”
“And now we’re having this moment.”
“I don’t like him.”
“You liar.”
“I am…” I pause, thinking about it, not ready to tell them about the night he showed up to my place. “I’m professionally wary of him,” I settle on.
“And yet, you didn’t deny what everyone in town is seeing from you two.”
I sigh. “He makes me nervous,” I admit. “In a good way. Which is the problem.”
Lily kicks her feet up on the coffee table. “Oh, girl. That’s not a problem. That’s foreplay.”
I smack her leg. “Stop it.”
“You stop pretending you don’t think he’s hot,” Lily fires back.
“Lily.” Blair wrinkles her face in disgust. “That’s your cousin.”
“Blair. Do not make me throw up, please.” She waves her hands in disgust. “Those cinnamon twists tasted good going down, and I do not want to taste them coming back up. I’m just saying that Scottie thinks he’s hot.”
Blair laughs, and then directs her attention back to me. “Okay, but does your pulse do that thing when he looks at you? You know. Does it get all jumpy and do back flips?”
I automatically hate that I know the feeling she’s talking about. I feel it every time he’s around me. I flatten my lips and look away from her. “I’m not answering that.”
“You don’t have to,” Lily says. “Your face already did.”
It’s quiet for a second before all three of us dissolve into laughter.
“You two are the worst.”
“Correction,” Lily says with her pointer finger in the air. “We’re the best.”
I smile, settling back on the couch. The conversation quickly changes to the two of them discussing book boyfriends and that one time Dallas cried at the end of a romance novel Poppy forced him to read, only to pretend it was allergies.
Then they move to arguing about who gets to recommend what I read next. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, the thought hits me. The problem isn’t that I’m unsure of my feelings for Tucker. It’s that I’m feeling too much at once.
For Tucker.
For this house.
For the town that keeps making space for me.
For the first time in a long time, I’m not sure who Scottie Monroe is without the perfect polished persona I’ve always been told to keep in place.
But sitting here, with cinnamon sugar on my fingers, sangria in my glass, and two women who have already decided I belong, I think maybe… just maybe, I want to find out.