Page 27 of Idle

“Dope.”

She stretches and I try not to notice how her shirt pulls against her rack. But I am human, so it takes me a minute to focus on my whittling.

In her sensual drawl, she asks, “What did the judges say in your room?”

“Not too much. They liked a couple of things we did in the living room. It wasn’t as horrible as I feared.”

“Yeah. Same. I was happy they didn’t turn this into a spectacle on top of a competition.”

“I’m with you.”

Across the way, Bo approaches Paige and my fingers tighten around my tool. My whittling knife, that is.

I watch the flirty interactions between the pair for a moment. Glancing at his ex-wife, I see pain register for a moment before she covers it up. I hope the hidden cameras didn’t capture her unvarnished reaction. No one’s business but hers.

Tossing my whittling to the side, I stand and hold out my hand to Mary Ellen. When she’s standing beside me, I raise my voice. “Who wants pizza?”

9

Paige

The next morning, I put my design items into my tote and grab a yogurt from the fridge. Everyone else had a big breakfast of eggs and bacon, but I was much happier sleeping in and missing all their excited chatter about starting the kitchen, dining, and laundry rooms today.

Selecting a spoon, I dip into my strawberry banana yogurt while mentally reviewing our notes for the rooms. White cabinets, including on the oversized island, will look fabulous against the dark wood floors. Quartz countertops are a must nowadays, and I prefer the look of a waterfall edge. Plus a farmhouse sink. Those things are huge. I don’t care if they fit within the pre-war modern look we’re going for—I’m not giving on this.

In today’s design world, though, two-toned cabinets are the rage. If we go ahead with my plan, will it appear as if we’re out-of-touch? Will black hardware and faucets appease the powers that be?

I’m mulling over these aesthetics when Bo wanders into the kitchen wearing just a pair of running shorts and sneakers, wiping a towel around his neck. His upper body is toned to perfection as I surmised, although a tad too muscular for my taste. Still.

“Hi.” I greet him.

His eyes light up then travel my full length. “Well, well, well. You’re a welcome vision this morning, Paige.”

“As are you, Bo. Although I took the lazy way out and didn’t do anything but take a shower this morning.”

He flexes, his bicep bulging.Impressive. “I worked out enough for both of us.”

“And I’m grateful.” I point at the coffeemaker, the only appliance with which I’m familiar. “Want some coffee? I was about to make a new pot.”

“Sounds good to me.” He opens the pantry door and retrieves the Vitamix, then opens the refrigerator door. “Want me to make you a smoothie?”

“Nah. Yogurt’s good for me.”

We work together as if our actions were choreographed, the scent of freshly brewing coffee filling the air. I’m leaning across Bo to obtain the sugar bowl in the cabinet above his head when Jesse’s voice freezes me in place. “Good morning.”

Why did I react to my partner’s tenor voice like he’s accusing me of something untoward? Forcing my eyebrows to remain neutral, I reply, “Hey, Jesse.” I turn toward him.

Like Bo, he’s wearing a pair of workout shorts and sneakers, sans shirt. Unlike Bo, however, Jesse’s well-defined upper body is more to my taste. Each of Jesse’s muscles has a use and doesn’t show off. My fingers tighten around the sugar bowl.

“Don’t let me bother you. I need some protein and saw a drawer filled with different cheeses in the fridge last night.” He walks to the other side of the kitchen.

I point to the coffee pot. “Want some?”

Jesse checks the counter where our mugs await the liquid gold and shakes his head. “Nah. I’ll stick to water.”

“You really should have a protein shake to go along with your cheese, buddy.”

My partner’s cheek indents. “I’m good.”

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