Page 23 of Sunset Catchers

I like that he takes his time to look at the tiles. It makes me judge his opinion as suitable when he says; “Seems well balanced to me.” My smile grows a fraction, only to tighten with his next question.

“What did you have in mind for the grout?”

Here we go. This is the moment I’ve been dreading. My eyes dart over to Levi’s, then I glance over his shoulder instead, in safer territory.

“I really want to do this dark pink color I saw on Pinterest. I already bought the pigment we need to add to the white grout. It’s a powder, so it should be simple.” I cross my arms over my stomach after a quick peek at him. “I mean, unless you think that’s not a good idea…” I’m biting my words now, jaw tight. “We could also do a basic color. If you think, that would be better—”.

“Winnie,” he interrupts. “I think the pink grout idea is great. Even better if you know how to do it, so stop rambling.”

“I’m not rambling,” I snap.

His brows rise from my sudden irritation.

“Fine. I was rambling.”

“Thanks for the confirmation, captain obvious.” I’m glaring now. “Why exactly are you rambling?” I shrug, trying to make the gesture casual, but it’s constricted. Clearly, Levi seems that I’d rather leave at that.

He doesn’t care. He waits me out. I sigh.

“I’m just used to dealing with contractors that are condescending to me, to say the least. Especially if they have to make an effort and try something different for once.”

“Seriously?”

I shrug again, but it’s looser this time around; I have accepted that this is how it usually goes in my line of work, and there is nothing I can do about it.

“Fuck them.”

I’m a bit stunned by the clear fervor behind his words. He truly doesn’t need to get upset for me. A simple platitude would’ve done—a predictable hum.

“I told you yesterday. I love your plans. So, no need to worry that I’ll be a condescending jerk or anything.”

Levi glowers at my obvious wariness.

“I won’t do anything to irritate you,” he continues.

“Too late.”

He rolls his eyes. “We’re a team. I trust your ideas, so trust that I’m here to help you achieve those ideas.”

I search his face, and the mix of emotions I find pleases me. Levi stares at me until I nod and say; “Okay, then. I’ll trust you on this.”

“Your car is very clean,” I say from the passenger seat. It had taken some convincing on Levi’s part to get me to agree to ride with him, instead of each taking our own car, but at last, I’d begrudgingly conceded that it made more sense.

“Yeah, and your car is a real dump.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but I can’t; he’s right.

“What can I say? I’m just a girl.”

“What is that supposed to even mean?”

“Having a messy car is a girl thing. Therefore, my messy car is entirely caused by my being a girl.”

“So if you were a guy, your car would be clean?”

“The proof is in the pudding,” I say, waving a hand around.

Levi snorts, at a loss, about how he should reply to that.

Ten minutes later, he pulls into the hardware store’s parking lot. This is an outing to pick up some grout and paint samples.