Page 114 of Mr. Fixer Upper
When they got to the brownstone, Paige was happy to realize both crews were already assembled. A jump on the schedule never hurt any TV show. However, her dreams of being ahead of schedule were dashed when she pushed open the front door.
“Surprise!”
She would have turned around and run, but Gannon and his chest were blocking her. Felicia had her hands full of a tray towering with donuts and bagels. Cat in skinny jeans and an azure off-the-shoulder sweater skipped over, a chintzy dollar store tiara in her hands.
“You didn’t think you could sneak your birthday past us, did you?” she teased, settling the tiara on top of Paige’s hat.
“Technically I did, and this is the day after,” Paige muttered, shooting Gannon a dirty look over her shoulder.
He winked and shoved her forward into the melee. There was coffee, every breakfast carb known to man, and then quite possibly the worst rendition of “Happy Birthday” ever performed in the history of the song.
Bradley pocketed his phone after the singing came to an end. “This is going to be gold for the blog,” he said, cheerfully biting into an everything bagel slathered with sour cream and chive cream cheese.
Flynn, to Paige’s eternal embarrassment, presented her with a gift bag containing a new tank top proclaiming her to be El Jefe and a peck on the cheek, which earned him a shove from Gannon.
They dined on donuts, bagels, danishes, and coffee, and Gannon announced the celebration could continue after work with pizza and beer. Paige finally convinced them all the party was over and that there wouldn’t be any pizza and beer unless they actually completed shooting for the day. As everyone scattered, she took a donut and a moment.
In less than twelve hours, he’d baked her cupcakes, thrown her an impromptu surprise party, and given her four body-shattering orgasms. It wasn’t going to end well, of that she was certain. Their feelings for each other were too volatile to have a polite going of the separate ways. No, it would be messy and painful and even without the inevitable break up, the demand on her time that a relationship with him would require would be astronomical.
But he’d gotten her balloons and remembered what brand of shampoo she used. He’d given her this job, this show, this opportunity. And what she felt for him, it didn’t fit so neatly in the like or lust boxes. It was something deeper. Something she wasn’t ready to name yet. She kicked at the metal leg of the work table that was buckling under the weight of tools and miscellaneous construction supplies.
And she’d be an asshole if she didn’t at least give this a shot.
Nail guns echoed from upstairs, and somewhere a duo of circular saws were making quick work of studs. She found Gannon in the kitchen checking measurements for the new back door onto the deck.
“Fine. We’re dating,” she announced, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “Happy?”
He looked up at her from where he kneeled on the floor. “Ecstatic.”
“If I screw this relationship up by not spending enough time with you or not meeting your needs or being too selfish, you have no one to blame but yourself,” Paige insisted.
“Consider me warned.” He climbed to his feet and swiped his palms on his jeans before grabbing for her. She was fast, but he was faster, and he was wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.
“We’re at work,” she reminded him, shooting nervous looks over his shoulder.
“Well, honey, that’s one of my needs. I’m not hiding this from my guys. They’re practically family. You can pretend to be whatever you need to be in front of your crew, but my guys would take it personally if I lied to them.”
“Damn it, Gannon.”
“We’re doing it right this time, and you’ve got to be ready to deal with the consequences. I’m not going to be your dirty little secret. Stop pouting.”
She felt the lines forming on her forehead. “I’m not pouting! I’m thinking. I’ve never announced a relationship before.”
“You’re putting too much thought into this,” he insisted.
Felicia wandered in munching on a chocolate éclair. “Hey, Paige. How many mics you think we’ll need today? I had two conk out on me. Pieces of shit.”
Gannon looked at Paige, nodded toward Felicia, and prodded her in the back.
“Uh, Felicia. I wanted to tell you… something.”
“You’re not shit canning me, are you?”
“Geez! No!”
“Well, you kind of had that nauseous ‘I have to fire you’ face.”
Gannon chuckled behind her. Paige shot him a dirty look over her shoulder. “No, it’s just I… Gannon and I are… we just started dating. And I wanted you to… you know… know.” Paige limped through her explanation.
