He sighed, then turned around and climbed the stairs. Robinson had squeezed himself into the tiny laundry room, along with a big flashlight and his toolbox and all the supplies for whatever he was working on. He smiled softly when Jake came over. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“Don’t be sorry. What’s up?”
He gestured toward the right side of the cramped room. “Since we’re switching to a stackable washer dryer, there’s some dead space here. Have to leave the back open so it can be accessed for maintenance, but it should be feasible to do some narrow shelving in here, right?”
Another eyeball job. Jake looked over where Robinson had pointed and scrubbed back through his brain. “It won’t super fit the aesthetic, but we could slip some shelves with railings in. Like a shoe rack, but shallower.”
“Perfect. Thank you. Extra storage is always good, so I thought I’d ask.”
“No worries.” Jake patted him on the shoulder, then headed downstairs at a good clip. He was really almost done with those benches for the deck. Plus, he’d somehow acquired two more projects in the span of maybe ten minutes.
Mason walked into the front door just as Jake was coming down and waved. “Hey. How’s things?”
“Good. I’m apparently building more shelves. Laundry room and kitchen.”
Mason nodded. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Just a carpenter.”
Out onto the front porch. Jake stopped and took a look out at the street. He could see why this would be nice to stop and take in sometimes. Once they got everything pieced together.And if there’s any way for me to get an invite, I wouldn’t mind.
Quinn constantly crept into his mind when he stopped too long on the project. Quinn the person, anyway. Quinn the client was always there. But that wasn’t the same as the cute guy who he played Armored Souls with the night before. The guy who he Frenched in the living room. The guy he wanted to sit and drink coffee with on a quiet morning on Old Aristocracy Hill.
“Jake!” He snapped out of his quiet to see Ozzy’s face peering around the corner of the house. Not smiling. “The deck benches? Kind of holding things up right now.”
Jake bit his tongue and headed back to finish up.
Chapter fifteen
Quinn
Quinn flopped down onhis couch and stared at the TV, currently off. Nothing came to mind that he actually wanted to watch. On top of the show and the house, work had dropped a big snarl in his lap. A sort of family business empire, but on a small scale. They owned a whole bevy of businesses, from a hardware store to a plumbing service to a real estate firm, plus multiple commercial spaces they rented out. One brother had ended up in hot water with the rest of his siblings, so Quinn had to go through the accounts on every business and track down any discrepancies, see what the finances actually looked like. With so many individual entities, and so many people involved in each one…yeah, his brain wasn’t exactly kicked into overdrive when it came to finding something to put on TV.
His eyes drifted toward the two controllers on his coffee table and he smiled. It wouldn’t change his preference for single-player titles, but there was definitely something nice about playing with someone else. Something a bit nostalgic, like when he’d have friends over to play games and get stupid-hyper on candy. It only stung him a little bit that he got so thoroughly trashed by Jake.
His phone buzzed and he shimmied it out of his pocket. Entirely possible the office had uncoveredmorefiles for him to go through, given how large this weird, incestuous conglomeration was. When he saw an unknown number, he almost set it down, but the preview on the text gave away the game.
Hey, it’s Jake. Not a scammer.
He pulled it up as another message buzzed through.
Wanted to show you some progress on the house. Keep it quiet. Not supposed to ruin any of the reveal.
Several pictures accompanied the text messages, showing some little risers on the back deck, a really nice-looking open-sided shelving unit, a new farmhouse sink still wrapped in plastic…and a floor-length mirror.
With Jake.
Shirtless.
Flexing.
His phone buzzed again.
That’s going in the bathroom. Help open things up.
Quinn swallowed and surreptitiously reached down for his crotch, adjusting himself as blood headed due south. Which left him one hand to text back with.
Is the carpenter included?
