“This weekend then,” Noah said quietly.
Luke nodded, gathering his tools. He had about twelve hours to figure out how to tell Keaton he was taking on another project and about twelve minutes to convince himself this wasn’t a terrible idea.
But as he headed for the door, Eli’s voice stopped him. “Mr. Luke? Are you going to fix our house?”
Luke turned back, finding both Thompsons watching him with different versions of the same guarded hope.
“Yeah, buddy,” he said, decision made. “I’m going to fix your house.”
And maybe, if he was lucky, he’d figure out why that felt more like a promise than a job.
CHAPTER FOUR
Newslike this wasn’t something to deliver over the phone. It only took Luke about five minutes to admit he needed to tell Keaton about the Thompson project to his face. If he got lucky, maybe Keaton would be intrigued enough to offer to help as time allowed. At the very least, it would get his friend out of the office and away from obsessing over the bids waiting for a decision.
“Call Keaton,” Luke directed to his Bluetooth. Ringing blared through the speakers of his truck, piercing the silence.
Right when he thought he’d gotten lucky and Keaton wouldn’t answer, the call connected. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing. Thought maybe you had a hot date tonight. You’re too pretty to sit around feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Aww, I’m flattered you thought of me,” Keaton teased. This sort of easy banter was typical for them. Keaton had always been the one person Luke didn’t have to worry about hiding parts of himself from, and Luke was the same for his friend. “But if youhaven’t managed to wear me down in almost twenty years, it might be time to realize I just don’t see you like that.”
“Very funny, fucker,” Luke shot back. He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel, knowing Keaton was going to give him shit for agreeing to help Noah fix up his house. Luke needed to make him see that not everyone lived and breathed Anderson Homeworks. “I was thinking about heading over to Brew & Barrel to grab a bite to eat, and I know damned well you haven’t even thought about dinner yet.”
The only thing worse than a stressed-out Keaton was a hangry Keaton. They could chat over burgers, and once he had a full belly and a stiff drink to mellow him a bit,thenLuke would tell him about the diamond in the rough at the edge of town. Doing it at the local bar seemed right since it was also where they shared dinner once a week so they could talk about what was happening with various clients.
“I don’t know, man. I have some things I need to get done before I head home,” Keaton hedged.
Luke rolled his eyes. Before long, he fully expected Keaton to turn the old office over the workshop into an apartment so he could truly live and breathe the family business. The man seriously needed to learn some balance. “I know for a fact that nothing on your desk will self-destruct if you take a break. Come on, it’s bad enough you were supposed to go to Murphy’s with me last weekend and bailed. You owe me.”
“I told you my dad wanted to talk to me about some shit.” It didn’t matter how old Keaton was or that his dad had technically handed the business over to him because he knew Keaton would keep the family legacy alive. Keaton still jumped any time his dad called because he was deathly afraid of letting his old mandown. Not that he’d ever admit he was chasing approval he’d already earned.
“Yeah, and he would have waited if you’d told him you were going out to get laid for a change.” Luke admired the relationship Keaton and his dad had and how different it was from his own family. While both families were supportive of their gay sons, Michael Anderson didn’t hold any expectations that Keaton would fall into a heteronormative life with a spouse, kids, and a picket fence. He was all about wanting his son to live life on his own terms, which was ironic as hell since Keaton was doing his damnedest to do the exact opposite. “Get your ass down to Brew & Barrel. Otherwise, I’ll drive to the shop and drag you out of there by your ear.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Keaton scoffed. Luke winced as the shrill screech of the desk drawer closing echoed through the truck cab. “Fine. I’ll be there in fifteen, but you’re buying the first round.”
“Expected nothing less. See you there.” Luke ended the call as he pulled into the gravel lot behind what had originally been Maple Hill’s general store. He scanned the parking lot for cars he recognized, hoping he and Keaton wouldn’t be bombarded by former classmates wanting to talk about the glory days of their youth. And there always seemed to be someone who couldn’t let go of his teens perched at the end of the bar nursing one more beer than was prudent.
“Luke!” Sam called out as soon as he came into view. Samantha Ortiz had been friends with Luke’s younger brother and, as such, claimed to have adopted Luke as the big brother she never had. He didn’t pull out a stool since they were having dinner tonight but leaned against the bar while she drew him a pint of their in-house IPA. “So, I heard you had an interesting run-in at your sister’s place the other day.”
Luke groaned. Shit like this was the main drawback to living in Maple Hill. It was never, “Hey, Luke, I heard you got the Holmes project done a week early,” or “Hey, Luke, great job on that chair you built for the senior center.” Only the most embarrassing, intrusive moments spread like wildfire.
“Megan has a big mouth,” Luke complained.
“She saidAustinis a sweet guy. Sexy too.” Sam waggled her eyebrows, leaning against the bar, her hands tucked neatly under her chin. At least she had the good grace to lower her voice while she continued ribbing him. “Was he bad in the sack or something? It’d be a shame if someone who got your sister all flustered like that was a two-pump chump.”
“Eww, do you even hear yourself right now?” Luke shuddered, adding dramatic gagging noises for effect. “First of all, I highly doubt Drew would appreciate you implying his wife was perving on a gay dude. And second, it’s none of your damned business how myvery gayhookup from last weekend made me come my brains out, screaming for him to slam his dick into me harder.”
Luke wasn’t one for talking with Sam about his conquests, but she’d earned this much. He knew damned well that dirty girl would spend the rest of the night imagining Luke getting his ass plowed by the unassuming insurance rep. No, the issue with Austin had nothing to do with their connection in bed, and everything to do with the fact he’d been dull as a plastic spoon when they weren’t fucking. Which was a damned shame because Luke had to admit the night had been memorable, even if he hadn’t remembered Austin’s name until Sam divulged it.
Sam threw a damp bar towel at his head. “You’re such a jerk. If you’re going to tease me like that, the least you could do is wait for me to go on break so you can give me the sordid details.”
“You really don’t see how fucked up it is that you love hearing about my sex life, do you?” One night when Sam was at Brew & Barrel as a patron, trying to drink away memories of her own failed love life, she’d admitted that her TBR pile was almost exclusively scorching hot gay romance novels. “Seriously, if guys weren’t such jerks, I’d wish I was a gay man. The straight guys I’ve met are only worried about getting themselves off. If the woman comes, it’s an added bonus they’ll brag about like they’re Lexington Steele or something.”
“Sounds to me like you should put more effort into finding a guy who isn’t a selfish bag of dicks and less time with your nose in a book and a hand in your pants,” Luke teased. If she wanted to talk about his sex life, turnabout was fair play.
“Not gonna happen.” Sam’s shoulders slumped forward. “No one wants a woman who’s in school during the day, working until bar time, and trying to steal every minute she can studying so she doesn’t have to serve booze to dickheads who refuse to grow up for the rest of her life.”
