Page 55 of Mr. Fixer Upper
“Good. Now get your asses back to work so we can finish this house.” Cat wrenched open the door and stormed outside.
--------
They managed a tremulous truce for the rest of the afternoon, and the work pressed on despite the steady rain that began to fall. Paige pushed them all to get as much footage of the finishes as possible. Gannon installed the hardware to the new kitchen cabinetry while Cat jumped in to help with the tile backsplash. They shot Flynn connecting overhead light fixtures and Brunelli’s crew attaching the custom-built bookcases to the living room wall around the TV. Everyone else was painting every vertical surface in the house.
Furniture move-in needed to be shot in daylight, not downpour, so Paige and Andy juggled the schedule, which was, at this point, broken down into hour intervals. It was the final sprint when everyone was already tired and the amount of work to be completed seemed never-ending. The pizza shop in town sent over three-dozen pies to feed their army of crew and volunteers, and the delivery girl was welcomed like a hero. Paige gritted her teeth when Gannon obliged the girl with a smiling selfie before handing her a paintbrush.
By the time there was nothing left for her crew to do, it was after midnight the morning of reveal day. Paige surveyed the nearly finished house with tired pride. They’d pulled it off again. Providing move-in went well in the morning, they’d be filming the reveal and tour by early afternoon, and Carina and Malia would spend the night in their brand-new home.
And Paige and her crew would sleep like the dead before catching a flight out the next afternoon.
Upstairs, the carpet installers worked to finish the bedrooms while the tile guys wrapped up in Carina’s paradise of a master bathroom. Malia’s room had blush pink walls and a deep window seat filled with pink and purple cushions. Paige had gotten a peek at the bed that Gannon would assemble in the room tomorrow, and it was indeed fit for a princess.
She touched base one more time with the overnight Brunelli foreman who assured her she had everything under control and called it a night.
Soaked to the bone with not an ounce of energy left, Paige left a trail of wet clothes from the door of her hotel room to the bed. She didn’t bother turning on any of the lights except the one on the nightstand. There was no energy for a prolonged bedtime ritual. She triple checked her alarm. It was one in the morning now, and she had to be back on set no later than six-thirty.Ugh.
Paige flopped down on the mattress assured that tonight she was too tired to lay awake thinking, missing, yearning. She wouldn’t think about Cat’s lecture, wouldn’t think about Gannon’s claims that he and Meeghan had been a publicity stunt. Nope. Wouldn’t think about that at all.
She waited for sleep to come. And waited. But she was still wide-awake minutes later when she heard the knock at her door. She debated ignoring it.
“Paige, open up.” Gannon’s voice, tired and annoyed, came from the other side of her door.
Grumbling under her breath, Paige yanked a tank top on over her head and stumbled out of bed.
“What?” she demanded, opening the door a crack.
He pushed past her into the room, his wet t-shirt molded to his chest, his sneakers squishing with every step. Without bothering to look at her, he peeled off his shirt and let it land in a wet heap on the floor.
“What are you doing?” She was too tired to work her way up to anything other than mild irritation. He toed off his shoes and peeled off the damp, dirty socks.
He shoved his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and looked at her, annoyed. “Do you want to sleep? I do. I’m not in the mood to spend one more night staring at the fucking ceiling wondering why I sleep so much better with you next to me.” He shucked off the shorts and stood defiantly before her in grey boxer briefs.
His body hypnotized her. It was Paige’s only explanation for why she didn’t stop him when he yanked the covers down and flopped onto the mattress.
What the hell was she supposed to do? He’d just charged in here and taken over her bed. If she climbed in, she’d be surrendering. But did she really have the energy to fight him?
Gannon held the covers up, and after a second of internal debate, Paige gave in. She climbed in, settling her back against his delicious warmth. His hard thighs and broad chest cradled her body, and she bit back a sigh. Whatever the reason, she slept better with Gannon King’s spectacular body wrapped around hers, and tonight she was too tired to question it.
Gannon slapped at the nightstand lamp until it turned off. Darkness settled once again, but this time, Paige knew sleep would come. He shifted behind her just enough to nuzzle against the top of her head.
“I can hear you smirking,” she yawned. “Don’t think we won’t discuss this tomorrow.”
“Shut up, princess.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Paige’s eyes fluttered open to the still dark of her room. She’d slept and slept deeply. The nightstand clock read 5:30, yet she felt as though she’d gotten a full eight hours. Her breast felt heavy, aroused, and then she realized Gannon was cupping it with one big hand. His rough palm had teased the nipple into a hard bud.
He stirred in his sleep behind her, his hips shifting against her. The thick length of his erection prodded her to a new level of awareness.
Warm and safe in his arms, her body came to life as a raw need began to bloom between her thighs. She bit her lip and tried to will herself back to sleep, but her body wasn’t having it. There was only one thing it wanted, and it was so close. Testing, she wiggled her hips against him and was rewarded with the throb of his cock where it nestled against her.
The ache within her intensified, pulsing with an emptiness that demanded to be filled. The room was so quiet and so dark, it felt… apart from the rest of the world. As if whatever happened within these walls could stay here while everything else moved forward. Whatever occurred on this bed in this room could stay here, in its shrine of solitude, while outside day broke and work began.
She was talking herself into it. The neediness of her body was providing too sharp a temptation to fight. Did he want her?Reallywant her the way she craved him? And was she ready to find out, ready to stop fighting everything but what she wanted?
His fingers flexed restlessly against the flesh of her breast, and Paige bit her lip. She rolled in his arms to face him in the dark and trailed a palm down his chest and over each ridge of abs. Her breast burning where his hand had been. She hadn’t realized he was awake, but without a word, his hand came to hers guiding it lower and lower over the V of muscle, down the light trail of hair leading her down.
