Page 12 of Built to Last

“The Meyers brothers have been extraordinarily patient with me,” I said, taking a subtle step away from Marco. “Their parents started the business about twenty years ago, but they’ve retired now and moved to Florida or Arizona or something, I think. The guys have plans to expand Common Grounds even more, if the rumors I’ve heard are right.”

“That’s cool,” Marco said, inching closer to me again. “Common Grounds seems like a great place to grab a cup of coffee and a snack. A great place for a date. Don’t you think?”

Warning sirens blared in my head. Not the ones that announced a guy was flirting with me, but rather the ones that indicated I was about to be outed. Darius glanced briefly my way with an expression I couldn’t read before focusing on the fixtures he was installing.

I couldn’t lose my crew because they suddenly realized who they were working for. I’d assembled every part of my team from the best of the best, and I wasn’t going to let one wild and untamed kiss—no, wait, Gilbert wasn’t the issue here, it was Marco flirting with me.

Shit.

“Why don’t we wander over to the office and get started on the paperwork?” I smiled tightly at Marco and gestured for him to follow me out of the shop.

“Sounds like a plan,” Marco said, following me with his smile looking as radiant as ever. “But I hope you understand that I want my lawyer to take a look at the contract before I sign anything.”

“Of course,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief when we were outside and away from my crew at last. It was only a temporary reprieve, though. My guys were smart as well as talented. I’d been able to keep my sexuality a secret from them for years now because I hadn’t dated or shown any interest in anyone. It was beyond frustrating that that was all changing.

A week passed, and nothing I did, no extra work I took on, and no amount of time I spent at the gym could shake the growing sense that my life was about to explode. I’d figured that the kiss would fade from my memory by the end of the day, but it was still there, replaying itself over and over when I drove to the RV park, hooked up for the night, and tried to go to sleep.

Sleep didn’t happen. Images of Gilbert the way he’d looked in college when he’d stayed late in my dorm room because my roommate was away for the weekend did happen. We’d been young and stupid back then and had needed the excuse of a pillow fight to get physical with each other. Pillows had turned to wrestling, wrestling had turned to touching, and touching had turned to the first time I’d jacked off with another man or had another man’s hands on me.

I fought to brush aside that bad night of memory-laden non-sleep by diving into work the next day, but the everyday problems of a construction site nearing completion weren’t enough to stop me from staring into space or getting hard as I sat at my makeshift desk, failing to compose a proposal for a diner on the other side of Philly, near Upper Darby.

A second night of rotten sleep for the same reasons didn’t help to keep me from losing my temper at Gordy for a minor misunderstanding about connecting the plumbing to the town supply. The job would get finished, but Gordy and I both knew we wouldn’t be working together again.

On the third day of periodically touching my lips as I remembered Gilbert’s taste, my mood went completely sour again when I noticed Marco coming out of Common Grounds in the middle of the day. I had no way to prove it, but I was certain he’d been chatting up Gilbert about all his ideas for the two of them to collaborate.

“This has to stop,” I hissed at myself as I stomped off to the RV to see what Angela was up to.

Things started to get really out of hand when Marco showed up in the RV on Friday, after Angela had left for home.

“I’ve got my contract right here, checked out by the lawyer and signed on all the dotted lines,” Marco announced himself like the world was made of sunshine and he and Gilbert would go dancing off into it together once I called out for him to enter the RV.

“Great,” I said, taking the papers from him with a smile. “I’ll have Angela finalize this on Monday, and by the end of next week you should be able to come in and start painting and putting in your own fixtures.”

“I can’t wait,” Marco said, then stood there smiling at me. That smile would have had me grabbing the man’s hand and tugging him back to my bedroom on any other day and in any other circumstance. He seemed to know it, too. “Say, you don’t want to, I don’t know, go out and grab dinner with me, would you? There’s a place nearby called Closed Mondays that sounds amazing.” The twinkle in his eyes and the way he leaned against the counter made it obvious the invitation was for more than dinner.

“Um, I appreciate the offer,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck with a wince. Marco was just so damn sweet. I didn’t want to drop him on his ass like a mean bastard. “The thing is⁠—”

“It’s a no,” he cut me off, not looking offended at all. The man was still smiling. “I get it. I just thought I’d give it a shot.”

“And I do really appreciate it,” I said. “The thing is, I’m not…exactly….”

“It’s the boy next door, isn’t it,” Marco said, his grin sly and borderline gossipy.

“The what?” My hands and feet started to go numb.

“It’s okay,” Marco said. “Gilbert is hot, I know. I’m half tempted to give that a try, too.”

Like hell you are.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say,” I blurted, the buzzing feeling in my gut growing stronger.

“Oh?” Marco went back to looking interested and coy and sweet as candy again.

I huffed out a sigh and lowered my head slightly. “No, what I was going to say is that—” I glanced to the RV door just to be safe, and even then, I spoke in a whisper as I went on with, “I’m not out.”

“Oh, right, gotcha.” Marco’s smile shone again. “We could meet up somewhere a few towns over, if that works better. And we could leave separately.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” I said, and then, because that sounded too harsh, I went on with, “I’ve got baseball tonight.”