Fixer-Upper Read Free Page B

shout and a grunt of pain. He looked down.
    Dakota was sprawled out on the ground, facedown. Jake’s heart stopped. Had he killed him? Dakota started to push himself up. Jake rushed down the ladder, dropping the pruner to the ground.
    “Oh my God,” he said. “I’m so so sorry. Are you okay? Did it hit you? Are you all right?” He tried to help Dakota up.
    Dakota brushed his hands away, moving so he was sitting upright. He had a long cut going down his forearm, and the palm of his right hand was bloody. “I’m fine, calm down,” he said. “I tripped over it. Didn’t see it coming down.” He didn’t sound mad, just rueful, and he wasn’t glaring at Jake.
    Jake could feel how heated his face was, and it wasn’t because of the sun. “Stay here,” he said. “I’m going to go find a first aid kit. There’s gotta be one around here, and I’ll clean you up.”
    “There’s one in the truck,” said Dakota, ignoring Jake and starting to stand. He swatted away Jake’s helping hand. “Seriously, I’m okay.”
    “You’re bleeding,” pointed out Jake. “A lot.”
    “And it’ll stop in a couple minutes.”
    Jake kept pace with him as he headed for the truck. “Does it hurt?”
    Dakota sent him an incredulous look, but he didn’t say anything. Jake worried on his bottom lip. When they got to the truck, Dakota pulled out the first aid kit, and Jake took it from him. He pushed Dakota down onto the truck bed. “Let me,” he said. “Please.”
    Carefully, he cleaned the long gash on Dakota’s forearm. “Sorry,” he said, wincing along with Dakota as he rubbed the alcohol pad over the wound. “What did your arm catch on?”
    “Think I hit a rock when I fell,” said Dakota. His whole face scrunched up. He reminded Jake of a pug. “If you say sorry one more time, I’m going to walk away.”
    Jake started to apologize and cut himself off. He couldn’t help it. He worked in silence for the rest of the time it took to clean Dakota up and cover the areas with bandages. He caught Dakota staring down at his scraped-up hand, now swaddled up tightly. The bandage was probably overkill, but he still thanked Jake, touching his non-bandaged hand to Jake’s shoulder briefly before walking off.
    It was Jasper who helped him trim the leaves.
     
     
    Day Eight
     
    THEY LOOKED exactly the same. He couldn’t find one difference between the two stones. Dakota was staring at him expectantly. “Well,” Dakota said, “which one do you like more?”
    Jake squinted. He still didn’t see the difference. “Which one do you like more?” he asked.
    “It’s not my yard,” Dakota said. “So I don’t think my opinion matters here.”
    Jake was a little surprised Dakota hadn’t whacked him over the head with the brick samples yet. They’d been shopping for going on two hours, and each decision had gone about the same. Dakota asked him what he liked, Jake asked him what he preferred, and Dakota tried his hardest not to decide for him. Jake wished he’d give it up and just make the damn choices.
    “They look the same,” he finally said. “What’s the difference supposed to be?”
    Dakota held out the brick in his right hand. “This one is slightly longer, but the width is shorter. It’s got a more reddish tone to it.” He held up his left hand. “This one’s shorter in length but slightly taller than the other. There’s a little more brown in the coloring.”
    Jake rubbed his forehead. “Go with the redder one.”
    “Is that what you want?”
    Jake felt like throwing up his hands in frustration. “Yes,” he said. It didn’t matter which brick they got, he still thought they looked the same.
    Dakota set the brick in the cart. “We can get multiple types if you’d like. Sometimes mixing and matching looks nice, if done right.”
    “All right.”
    “Are you sure?”
    He’d had it wrong. He was going to strangle Dakota. “I said yes.”
    Dakota hummed. “Maybe we should look at stepping-stones first.