“You know I’d be happy to help you guys, right? When is his next court date?”
Nick waved him off. “I don’t want to talk about that. Let’s talk about something else. How are you? How was the market today?”
Oliver watched him for a second longer, but Nick held his ground. He appreciated Oliver’s offer, but only Hayden falling in line would get his family out of this.
“It was fine.” Oliver’s smile was tight, like he was disappointed Nick had turned him down. “There’s this guy, Avery. He’s turning into my best customer, and I think now he wants to be my business partner too.”
Nick growled. “Do I need to be jealous?”
“Of Avery?” Oliver laughed. “Not in the slightest. He’s sweet, but he doesn’t hold a candle to you.”
“Thanks.” Nick didn’t get a chance to say much else, because Oliver was up and on Nick’s body to kiss him. Nick groaned under Oliver’s lips as their kiss got wet and messy. It should have been such a turn-on, to have his man spread across him, but up the hall . . .
“Stop,” Nick whispered, pushing at Oliver’s chest.
Oliver slunk back to his side of the couch and tugged at an earlobe. “Sorry. I’m not used to having to behave myself around you.”
“Trust me.” Nick focused on breathing slowly as arousal continued to burn through him. “I know the feeling.”
“Do you want me to go?”
Not at all. Anya had left first thing that morning, and Nick hadn’t expected how housebound he would feel once she and her friends pulled out of the driveway. Suddenly, everything he wanted to do involved leaving the house. Having Oliver here was a welcome distraction, even if behaving themselves for the sake of the teenager was nearly impossible.
“Come on.” Nick stood and pulled Oliver to his feet.
“Where are we going?”
Somewhere with no couches and no beds.
“I’ll give you the tour.”
The tour was brief at best. The house wasn’t very big, and Hayden and Anya’s rooms were off-limits. The tour of Nick’s bedroom was further limited for the sake of his paper-thin composure. Before he knew it, they were back in the kitchen.
“I keep meaning to refinish the cabinets.” He ran a hand over the old oak doors. They had been there since he and Anya had moved in, and the finish was chipped and peeling around the edges. He mentioned it mostly to draw Oliver’s attention away from the dirty dishes stacked up by the sink.
“Is that something you know how to do?” Oliver said.
“The cabinets? Sure. Sand them down, apply some stain. It would only take me a weekend.”
Oliver’s forehead wrinkled. “I’ve never been very handy. I come from a family of artists and intellectuals. I can change a lightbulb and empty a lint trap. After that, I hire a professional.”
Nick grinned. “I come from a family of carpenters and construction workers. We are the professionals. You’d think someone with those skills would have a nicer house.” With Oliver in the space, Nick was so aware of every deficiency, every corner and surface that could have been repaired or replaced over the years.
Oliver squeezed his hand. “I like your house. It feels settled. Lived in.”
“It’s a far cry from your place. Nothing’s been upgraded here in ten years at least.”
“I don’t care about that. I care about the people who live here.”
Nick bit his lip. He cared about Oliver. So much. Having him in this house, so close, was almost painful, because Nick couldn’t have him, not like he wanted, while Hayden was here.
“You told me you could have made me stools for the shop. Were you serious about that?” Oliver ran a hand over the back of one of the old spindled chairs at the table. His strong fingers slid around the curves like they slid over Nick’s body sometimes, and just the sight of it made him shudder. Whether he knew it or not, Oliver was doing nothing for Nick’s self-control.
What if...
“Come with me.” Nick linked a finger around Oliver’s pinkie, because touching more of him than that ran the very real risk of Nick cracking right there and pawing at Oliver’s clothes like an animal.
Oliver followed willingly, his smile growing like Nick’s. “Where are we going?”
