Chapter Fifteen
Maddox
When we got back to the house, Malcolm was just finishing tidying up. He was wiping down my cast iron pan when we walked through the door, nodding along a little to the music I had mistakenly left on. I paused in the doorway, strangely warmed to see him taking care of the place so lovingly.
Gunner headed straight over to him, joining him by his side, and I poured myself another cup of coffee. The road was still wearing on me, although I couldn’t say I was particularly upset about the guys getting stuck there. Maybe it was just because I found them in such a compromising position, but I was struck by how sexy they were together. The whole time Gunner was squatting and working that chainsaw, I was studying the taut muscles of his thighs and thinking about how good he would look railing his friend.
Not to mention they were better company than I’d had in a couple of months on the road. Even with Gunner acting arrogant to impress Malcolm, there was a kindness between them that I couldn’t help but notice. They might delay my peace and quiet for a day or two, but I’d have all the time in the world to myself again after that.
I stepped out to the porch to make a phone call to the county and got the response I expected. It would be one to three days before they’d be able to send a guy up the mountain. Usually, they managed to come before a full day had passed, but I’d been left waiting through a weekend before. When I stepped back inside, Gunner was playing grab-ass with Malcolm, making his friend giggle and squirm.
Cute shit.
“I hope you’re comfortable on that hammock. It’s another day at least until they can clear the road. Maybe more.”
“What!” Malcolm said suddenly, swatting Gunner’s hand away. His face dropped, the smile washing off. “We’re stuck here for how long?”
“Through the weekend, maybe,” I said. “The county is a little unreliable.”
“Oh god,” Malcolm said, taking off his glasses. “It’s already Friday afternoon. I thought I would be home last night!”
I took a drink of coffee from my mug. “I’m not going to kick you out, don’t worry. And if you’re here much longer, I’ll figure out something more comfortable than the hammock. But don’t think you’re going to be running all over the place and doing whatever the hell you please.” I pointed at Gunner for a second, giving him my eye so he knew I meant it. When Malcolm squirmed in response, I almost lost my focus and smiled.
“What?” Gunner said. “You got rules for us or something? Because there are plenty of other houses up this mountain where we can chill for a couple of days.”
“Yeah, and I’m the only one with a thick enough skull that I don’t put an alarm on my place. You want to risk going to the jail instead of Seattle, go right ahead. But I think you’re smarter than that.”
“What are the rules?” Malcolm asked, sliding a little closer to Gunner.
I shrugged. “Just obvious things. Don’t touch my shit, don’t drink my booze, don’t bother me if I don’t want to be bothered—”
“How are we supposed to know if you want to be bothered?” Gunner asked, interrupting.
“Just assume I never want to be bothered. And especially keep your hands off of my welding equipment. It’s dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Did you say earlier that you’re out of fresh food?” Malcolm asked.
“I did, but there’s plenty of stuff in the pantry. We’ll just have to get creative with dry food and old cans of beans.”
“More importantly,” Gunner said, “did you just say you have welding equipment?”
I set my mug down on the table, then grabbed my sunglasses, using them to push back my hair. After all that time on the road, I was in dire need of a haircut. “I did. Do you two want to see the property?”
“I’d love to,” Malcolm answered, tugging down on his sweater a little. “It looks really beautiful out there.”
“It is. Come on, I’ll tell you about the highlights.”
They followed behind as I walked them through the house first, pointing out practical things like the wifi password and the towel closet. Malcolm made an occasional comment about how nice some of the woodworking was, and Gunner pointed out my stereo system, but for the most part they just followed while I talked.
I loved showing off my house, although I rarely had the chance to do so. The building had all of the flares and fancy details that my parents installed when they owned the place, but I cared more about what I had done to change it. It had taken a lot of work and a lot of time to make the place my own, but with every hour I spent landscaping and every afternoon I spent welding, I had made the house a little more mine and a little less like the legacy of my parents.
“Oh wow!” Malcolm said. “Look at that garden!”
The yard stretched out behind the back of the house, tumbling down the hill a bit before the forest overtook it. My workshop was at the far end of the yard, and my metal sculptures were stuck in random places against the hillside, but the garden was at the center of it all. Winding rows of plants, elevated beds, and a small hoop house clustered together, placed to receive optimal light during the cloudy Washington seasons.
I squatted down, examining the overgrown and untended crops. The beets were going strong, with their greens bolting and shooting into the air, as were the hardier vegetables like turnips and radishes. For the most part, though, the garden was an overgrown jungle, with weeds battling out most of the seasonal plants.
I tugged a few weeds from the ground, tossing them aside. “It’s a pretty big mess right now. I’m afraid no one has touched this thing since I left in August. But it shouldn’t take too much work to get it back in order. I’ll get the hoop house going soon enough and keep some greens growing through the winter.”
