Page 48 of Room to Spare (The Fixer Upper #2)

Keaton roamed the hallway of the nearly finished apartment building, iPad in hand, thumb worrying the battered corner of the case.

The echo of boots and the faint scent of touch-up paint mingled with the rasp of his own impatience.

It should have felt like a victory—punch-list items shrinking, timelines holding, the building almost alive with promise.

But every uneven cabinet hinge, every scuffed wall, every box someone had left wedged in the stairwell just grated.

Order was supposed to soothe him, but every freaking thing was pissing him off today.

Begrudgingly admitting that Finn and Luke were right that he needed to adjust his attitude, he ran up to Jules’s apartment, only to find that Jules had decided to use their day off to run to Afton to get more paint for the mural.

Finding their apartment empty only soured his mood further.

He almost felt bad for anyone who had to deal with him this afternoon.

Luke was deep into one of the last units, assembling closet shelves. Finn was supervising the new kid—Shaun, or Shane, something like that—as he swapped out door hardware in the hallway. Keaton’s eyes darted from task to task, looking for something to fix. There was always something.

He ran his hand along a kitchen cabinet, fingertips tracing the seam.

It was a hair off-level—maybe a centimeter, maybe less—but all he could see was the crookedness.

He grabbed his level to adjust the hinge, watching the bubble hover dead center.

Too tight, and the door wouldn’t close right.

Too loose, and it’d look like he didn’t care.

“Perfectionist much?” Finn drawled from the living room, where he was installing smoke detector batteries, his expression too casual to be real. On a day like this, it was all hands on deck, and that included the office manager.

Keaton ignored him, crouched to check the toe-kick under the cabinets. “Double-check means double-check. If anyone’s moving in next week, this better feel like a new build, not a half-assed rental. Just because we’re building affordable units doesn’t mean the work can be shoddy.”

Luke’s voice floated from the bedroom, lazy and needling. “No one’s going to notice the difference unless they crawl around on the floor. You want me to run a white glove along the baseboards too, or…?”

Keaton called back. “Just finish the shelves. If it falls when someone tries hanging their clothes, we’ll be the ones fixing it. Paying someone to fix what should have been done right the first time will dip into profits.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll install it with the same precision as your coffee orders—two sugars, three sighs, and a dash of existential dread.”

Finn snorted, but didn’t look up from his work. “He’s not wrong. You want to check my batteries before I snap the cover back on? I know you’re dying to.”

Keaton grunted, but didn’t take the bait.

He shifted his focus to a scuffed patch near the hallway, running his thumb over the paint.

The blemish was barely visible, but it was there.

He dug in his tool pouch for the painter’s tape, tearing off a small piece to mark where the crew needed to touch it up.

His phone vibrated in his pocket—a text from Jules:

Hope work’s going okay 3. Nothing urgent. Just a check-in. Sorry I wasn’t there when you stopped by. Hope all is going well.

He stared at the screen for a long beat, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

What was he supposed to write? Fine. Busy.

Miss you. All true, none of it enough. In the end, he pocketed the phone, feeling the guilt settle in beside the ache in his chest. If he responded, they’d get into a conversation, and if he expected his crew to focus, he needed to lead by example.

A loud thunk echoed down the hall. Keaton spun in time to see Luke’s supply cart bump the baseboard, leaving a fresh nick in the new paint.

“Shit,” Luke muttered, wincing. “Sorry, boss man, I’ll get it fixed.”

Keaton’s voice came out sharper than he meant. “Just—be careful. We’re not starting over because someone got careless.”

He felt like a complete prick. He was snapping at everyone, even his best friends, and no one on the crew deserved that.

They’d busted ass to get the building ready as close to his original date as possible, despite all the delays at the start of the project.

Maybe he should hand control over to Luke for the day and go watch Jules paint.

Just being close to his partner would help.

Silence thudded through the unit. The new kid froze, wide-eyed, glancing between Luke and Keaton like he was waiting for someone to start shouting.

Finn stepped in, voice light but pitched to carry. “Don’t mind him, Shaun. He’s only like this when he skips breakfast. Or when someone moves out and his bed is cold in the morning.”

“Finn…” Keaton growled out a warning. It was bad enough his friends knew why he was pissy.

He didn’t need his personal drama shared with the entire crew, especially Shaun.

The new guy had wicked potential. He didn’t want him leaving for a more professional company that’d be only too happy to show him the ropes.

Luke snorted, shaking his head. He abandoned what he was doing to pull Keaton around the corner. “You miss Jules. It’s okay, man. But maybe you should tell them you’re miserable without them instead of taking it out on us?”

Keaton bristled, jaw tight. “It’s not that. We’re behind schedule, and I’m losing money every day the units sit empty. No one wants to be here all night fixing stuff that should’ve been caught and I should’ve signed off on last week.”

Finn joined them, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, the picture of unflappable calm.

“Are you finally ready to admit you were an idiot to let Jules move out? I swear, if you don’t tell them you hate this, we’re going to.

You were actually pleasant to be around after they moved in and the two of you started screwing. ”

Keaton pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration pulsing behind his eyes. “No, I’m not going to tell them. If this is something they feel like they need to do, I’ll cope. It won’t be forever.”

Luke grumbled under his breath. “It’ll sure as fuck feel like it to everyone else.”

Finn smiled, but there was nothing soft in it.

“Then you need to find a way to compromise because too much longer being a total dick and you’re going to find yourself breaking in a new crew.

We put up with it because we love you, but they don’t have to.

” The new guy rounded the corner, and Finn shooed him away.

“Lunch run, Shaun. Give us a minute, yeah?”

Shaun bolted without saying a word. Luke started toward the stairwell. “Just so you know, I’m using your card to buy the guys lunch. Figure out a way to fix this, yeah?”

The hallway stilled, the only sound the hum of the AC and Finn’s measured breathing. Keaton leaned back against the wall, the weight of the morning pressing down hard.

Finn lingered, picking up a stray screw and rolling it between his fingers.

“You know, I’m not sure Jules would be happy with you giving them what they need if you’re ignoring your own needs.

That’s a great way for resentment to fester, and then you might never be able to get things back to the way they were.

Why don’t you take some time this afternoon to think about what would make this time apart easier to deal with, and then take them out to dinner and tell them.

Luke and I will make sure we get through as much of the list as we can today. ”

Keaton hesitated, hating that Finn made it sound so simple.

But he nodded before giving Finn’s shoulder a quick squeeze.

“You know, I think I’m going to take you up on that.

” They walked outside together, the heat and noise of the world swallowing him up.

Alone, but not quite lost. “And thanks. I know I’ve been a dick, and I’m grateful to both you and Luke for calling me out.

You shouldn’t have to put up with me either. ”

“Maybe not, but at this point, I think you’re stuck with us.” The corner of Finn’s mouth tipped up in a smirk. “You have to remember, we’ve been dealing with your surly ass since we were kids. No point replacing you now.”

Finn got behind the wheel of his sporty little sedan, leaving Keaton on his own with his thoughts. They were right. Something needed to give.