Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
ANDI
Reece gets takeout from a new Thai place in town. I know nothing about that country’s cuisine, so I let him order the food. While he drives into Rotheberg to pick it up, I take a shower and change into clean clothes. Demo is fun but really dirty. It’s only a few miles to town and back, so I forego drying my hair, plaiting it into a damp French braid instead, despite hands sore from wielding a sledgehammer. I have to do it by touch, since there’s only one mirror in the small bathroom. I make a mental note to add a second one to the remodel list.
Reece’s truck pulls up outside as I come down the stairs, so I hurry into the garage to set up the kitchen table we moved in earlier. I toss a piece of fabric from my stash over the scarred wood and put paper plates at each spot. By the time Reece comes through with a paper bag in his arms, I’ve got a Coke Zero for each of us.
“Don’t give me any of that diet stuff. I need my sugar.” He hesitates with the bag in his arms. “It looks like one of the containers leaked. Don’t want to get sauce on your tablecloth.”
“It’s fine. This isn’t anything special.” I take the bag and deposit it on the floor, pulling the items out. “We can use an extra plate as a trivet. This smells so good!” Inhaling the spicy scent, I place the boxes on plates and pop the tops open.
He returns to the table with a can of real-sugar Pepsi and points at the container of fettuccini-shaped noodles with meat, peanuts, and bean sprouts on top. “That’s Pad Thai. The American favorite. The mango sticky rice is for dessert, and that one is Som Tam Thai—spicy papaya salad. The one with the raw veggies is Miang Kham. I told them to go easy on the heat.”
I laugh. “Good call. We Freibergers are not known for our spicy palates.” I pick up a rolled napkin and remove the little strip of paper holding it shut. It unrolls, revealing a pair of chopsticks, a fork, and a wide spoon all made from bamboo.
“Do you know how to use those?” He sits and unrolls his own cutlery.
‘The fork and spoon?” I smirk. “Yes. And the chopsticks, too. Just because I haven’t had Thai food before, don’t assume I’m that sheltered.”
“Well, in this case, you are. The chopsticks are only for soup—which we didn’t order.”
I dip the chopsticks in an invisible bowl. “That seems like the hard way to eat soup.”
He picks up the fork and spoon. “Traditionally, you use the fork—or chopsticks for soup—to put the food onto the spoon.” He scoops some Pad Thai onto his plate, then demonstrates using the fork to load the spoon.
I try to copy his actions, but the noodles spill off my bamboo spoon. “How do you know this?” I twirl the fork in the noodles like spaghetti, then transfer the bundle to the spoon. “Aha!”
“I went to Thailand when I was younger. I did a year abroad in Australia, then traveled that summer before coming home.”
As we eat, he tells me about his adventures in southeast Asia and Australia. He winds up with a story about an emu that has me doubled over with laughter.
“Did you say Teo’s girlfriend is in Korea?” he asks.
“She’s near Seoul, teaching English. He’s going to visit in October.”
“I never got that far north. We—my roommate was from the UK—went to the Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia.”
“Not New Zealand? I’ve always wanted to go there.” I pick up the box of sticky rice. The white blob has a shiny sauce on top and slices of mango on either side. “How do I do this one?”
“Plain sticky rice is eaten with the hands. You kind of roll and squish it, then dip it. But the sauce on that is too sticky. You can use your fork.” He nods as I scoop some out but loads more Pad Thai on his own plate. “We went to New Zealand for Christmas. Our host family had relatives there.”
“Christmas in the summer is so weird.” I put some mango rice in my mouth. “Oh, this is good.”
“Texas it isn’t exactly cold in December—at least not down near San Antonio, which is where I grew up. But in New Zealand, we did a beach barbeque. And Santa wears a bathing suit with flip flops. It was strange, but fun.”
As we finish our meal, a car pulls up outside the garage.
“That’s probably Teo.” Reece gets up, dropping his napkin on his chair.
I toy with my bamboo fork. “Where are you putting the fridge?”
“Out here.” He points to an empty space beside the door to the kitchen. “I’m going to buy a new one, but I figured we could use it for overflow.”
“I’ll stay here, then. Out of the way.” I pick up the sticky rice container. “Did you want more food, or should I pack it up?”
“I’m good. I can always eat some sticky rice later.” He heads into the kitchen.
As I put the half-empty boxes back into the bag and stack the paper plates, I can hear the men talking. There’s some laughter and some clanging, then the door flies open.
Hans pokes his head through. “Hey, Andi!” He disappears, and Reece takes his place, backing into the room with the fridge on a hand truck. He slowly lowers it down the two steps, then lets Teo help him maneuver it into place.
“There we go!” With a flourish, Hans plugs in the cord, and the big thing hums. “Easy as pie.”
Reece laughs and jostles Hans with an elbow. “Your door holding was masterful.”
“Don’t forget my electrical skills.” Hans takes a dramatic bow.
I carry the bag of leftovers to the fridge. “I’ve never seen anyone insert a plug so professionally.”
Hans pulls the door wide with another flourish. “I live to serve!”
“Aren’t you supposed to let it settle for a few hours after moving it?” Teo asks.
Hans gives Teo a scowl. “To prevent it exploding? I think we’re good.”
“So speaketh the expert electrician.” Teo backs away, hands wide.
Rolling my eyes, I deposit the bag on the empty top shelf. “You may close the receptacle.”
“As you wish.” Hans swings the door shut with a thud. “You coming to the movie?”
“No, thanks. I’m out of date.”
“Out of date, or on a date?” His eyes dart to Reece and Teo, then back to me. “You two are a cute couple.”
“He’s my boss, not my boyfriend.” I push Hans toward the other two. “You guys better get going.”
“Ah, you want some alone time with your boss?” His brows jump up and down.
I roll my eyes again, trying to will my blush away.
“Thanks for the assist.” Reece shakes my brother’s hand. The gesture looks awkward and formal.
Teo nods in reply. “You ready, Hans?”
“Sure, bro. Let’s hit it!” Hans gives me a swift hug. “I’m headed back to Corvallis tomorrow, so I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”
“If I’m still here. But I thought school didn’t start until the end of the month?” I follow the men to the front door.
“I have a job this year. Gotta get orientated. Plus, my roommates are already moved in, and they’re probably leaving the crappiest room for me.”
Reece and I stand on the porch, waving as the other two climb into Teo’s SUV. “Bye, boys! Have fun storming the castle!” When they drive away, I turn to Reece. “I’m tired!”
He waits for me to go back into the house, then closes the door behind us. “Too tired for the hot tub?”
“You have a hot tub?” I stare around the room, as if it will magically appear in the center of the house. “Where?”
“Back deck. You didn’t get out there when you measured. It doesn’t need any renovations or decorating.” He points at the door at the rear of the house. “I’m going to go shower off so I don’t track any dust into the tub. Meet you out there?”
I try to remember if I have a bathing suit with me as I follow him up the stairs.
When I get back down, with a towel wrapped over my simple black one-piece, Reece is already in the tub, his wet hair slicked back. I try to ignore his broad shoulders and muscular arms draped along the top edge of the four-person tub. It stands on a dark wood deck protected on two sides by the house. Scarlet, vermilion, and blush paint the western sky, leaving the mountains in silhouette. The deck lights are out, giving the impression of privacy in the gathering dusk.
Dropping my towel over a wrought iron chair, I try to appear confident. I climb the wide wooden step and sit on the edge to swing my legs into the steaming water. As I slide in, I pretend I can’t feel Reece’s gaze flicking over me and away. To deflect his attention, I nod at the wall to my left. “That’s not part of the house. But it’s connected?”
“It’s an extension to the garage. There’s some farm machinery in there now. Eventually, I’ll probably convert that into the maker space and use the garage for vehicles. And put a door between the two. Not sure why they added on without a connecting door.” He closes his eyes and sinks lower into the tub. “This feels good after all that demo.”
I slump lower to cover my shoulders with hot water. He’s right; it feels fantastic. But the silence drives me crazy. I rack my brain for anything to talk about but come up blank. We’ve already discussed the demolition enough to make my shoulders tense in preparation for tomorrow. And every time I’ve mentioned paint colors or fabrics for the finished house, he loses interest.
Which reminds me. “Why is that?”
His eyes pop open, and he pins me with a confused hazel gaze. “Because?”
I pull my hand out of the water and flick droplets at him. “So funny. What’s up with your lack of interest in decorating this place? You clearly have very specific ideas when it comes to your maker space.” I gesture at the garage.
“I’m a guy. We don’t decorate.”
I frown because he’s not wrong. I’ve never seen Teo pick out a throw pillow or select paint colors. When he requested a room at Rosenh?uschen, he left the decor up to the staff.
“But you renovate houses. You clearly have a good eye for design—you knew which wall to take down for the best results.”
“Those things are completely unrelated. If it were up to me, I’d paint everything beige and let the buyers pick their own stuff.” He closes his eyes again. “How am I supposed to know what people like? That’s your… thing.”
His off-hand tone makes my life’s work sound like a cute hobby. Miffed, I flick more water at him.
He sits up, scoops a handful of water, and throws. It hits me square in the face and I gasp in shock. As I wipe my eyes, the water surges and Reece drops onto the seat beside me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Good thing I’m not wearing any makeup. Then I’d be mad.” I swipe water, and it splashes against his neck, cutting off his apology.
The hot tub becomes a battlefield as we attempt to make bigger and bigger waves to swamp each other. I get a good splat at his face, then lunge away as his fingers grasp my upper arm. I try to climb out, but he pulls me back. Free arm flailing, I fall backward, landing on top of him. We both go under.
His arm snakes around me, pulling me to the built-in seat, and my head breaks the surface. I cough out the water I swallowed, sagging against the side of the tub.
Reece’s arm holds me tight against him. “Are you okay?”
I twist enough to see his face, water sluicing down his chiseled cheeks. A droplet hangs from one of his dark lashes. He blinks, flinging the water away. Strangely breathless, I nod. “I’m fine.”
His nearness—his muscular leg pressed against mine, his firm abs against my arm, his warm breath on my cheek—is almost too much. I steal another look at him, and my own breath catches. He’s staring at me with the intensity of a thousand suns. His breath comes fast and shallow, as if that little water fight took everything out of him. But I saw this man swing a sledgehammer, and there’s no way that little tussle even pinged his smart watch.
If he was wearing one, which he isn’t. Hot tub.
I gulp. Too much, too fast. With a little twist, I slide away from his half-embrace and move across the small tub, trying to put a little distance—and sanity—back into the evening. “That was… fun.”
He pushes his hair back from his forehead, water sliding down his solid bicep, his gaze still trained on me. A tiny smile twists the corners of his mouth—an expression I’ve tagged as Reece grinning. One eyelid drops in a stealthy wink.
What did that mean? Flustered, I try to remember what we were talking about. “You’re leaving the decorating completely up to me?”
He blinks and draws in a deep breath as if he’s trying to reorder his thoughts. Letting out a sigh, he nods, then tips his head side to side. “Mostly. My… employer gets the final say.”
“You don’t trust me all the way.” I narrow my eyes at him. “What happened to you loving my art?”
“I do like it. But you said yourself you haven’t done any interior design work. I’m sure what you do will be adequate, but my employer has impeccable taste.”
Adequate ? I draw myself up and fire a barb. “Your employer? You mean your mama ? If your mama is an expert, why do you even need a barely adequate designer?” I launch to my feet and stalk to the steps.
“I didn’t say barely!” The water sloshes as Reece stands.
I climb out and grab my towel. “Adequate is hardly a compliment.” With my back to him, I can’t see his expression, but he sounds surprised. He splashes, as if he’s getting out of the tub.
Wrapping my towel around me, I rush into the house.