“Hey. Come on.” Ozzy pointed to the flower bed. “Those holes aren’t digging themselves. You can tap out whenever you want, but until then, you’re mine. And I’m hoping to use you to spread some gravel for a little seating area in the back.”
“So this is the glamorous world of home renovation.” Quinn shifted to the side again, moving to another hole. He felt confident enough eyeballing the space after digging so many out. Plus he had no doubts Ozzy would let him know if he’d screwed something up.
“I leave the glamor to the inside boys. They’d all buckle after a day of working out here, doing what I do.”
Quinn had to stop at that one and look at him, eyebrow up. “Even Jake? He’s nothing but muscle.”
Ozzy chewed on his cheek a few seconds, then shrugged. “He could probably do a week before saying uncle. Assuming he didn’t get under my skin that whole time and make me kick him back to being a wood-monkey.”
A flash of heat crashed through Quinn’s belly, but he bit back any potential commentary, instead channeling that into his trowel toforcefullydig out some more soil. “You two don’t get along?”
“We’re fine. Jake and I just aren’t the tightest. The…endless positivity grates on me sometimes. Lives in a bit of his own world where things are just nice and pleasant all the time.” He closed his eyes and huffed a couple breaths. “Not going to air all that out. He’s a good guy. Old friend. But we don’t spend ample amounts of time alone with each other.” He sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’m coming off like an asshole, huh? Common problem.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”I would just think it. “But you do think Jake’s a good guy?”
“You don’t work with someone this many years and agree to do a TV show with him if he’s a total piece of shit.” He pointed to the hole Quinn was working on. “Deeper, here. Want to get the roots really well-established.”
Quinn obliged. He couldn’t say Ozzy was his absolute favorite person he’d dealt with on the crew, but they had an open dialog now about Jake. He’d press it as much as he could. “He seems a bit like a player, to be honest. Blond hair, blue eyes, that good of shape?”
“I mean, maybe something’s changed since we shut the channel down, I don’t know. But he always used to be picky about his boyfriends. Way more than me or Mason. Especially me.” He snorted. “Frankly, I always thought he could stand to get his heart broken once or twice. Toughen him up. But he’s a decent guy who picks other decent guys. Well, he hooked up with one total prick in his senior year of high school, but who hasn’t made that mistake?”
Quinn nodded, digging out what he hoped was enough dirt before moving on and probing for information a different way. “If it’s too personal, don’t answer. But I know friend groups like that can sort of trade relationships around with each other.”
Ozzy sighed, then chuckled. “Not so much us. Evander and I obviously used to date for a while. Don’t have any room to talkabout anything specific, but nothing major springs to mind.” He jumped back to his feet. “I need to check on the flowerbeds out back. When you get done with this, either come find me or turn tail and run if it’s too much.”
Then he strode off and Quinn stared down at the dirt. He had a few holes left to dig. And he had basically no information to chew on about Jake, nothing to even attempt to assuage his worries.
It would help if I knew what I was worried about.
At the very least, he knew Jake didn’t have a long history of being a playboy, so this wasn’t sending up warning flags about getting used and hung out to dry.
Chapter eighteen
Jake
Jake finally had achance to get going on the gaming room. The shelves for Quinn’s books—he was apparently a big fantasy reader, not just gamer—were the easiest place to start. He knew how to make shelves, and the measurements were super easy. He was ripping the lumber down on the portable table saw, then checking each piece off on his sketched diagram. He would need to take a break and move over to the living room built-ins whenever Evander settled on an exact design, but for now, he could make some headway.Finally.
Between shelves, Ozzy walked up, hands in his pockets, a big grin on his face. Jake stopped what he was doing and sighed. “When you look this happy, I usually have to stop what I’m doing to help with your idea. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. And I’m hurt by the implication.” He leaned against the little folding table on the edge of the shelf, his smilesomehow widening. “I just came by to chat. Heard a little rumor that might pique your interest.”
“Rumor about what?” Jake took a swig from his water bottle.
Which was a mistake.
“Sounds like Quinn’s got the hots for you.”
Jake choked on the water, struggling for breath and leaning down on his knees while he coughed.Last thing I expected to hear from him.
“Damn. I didn’t mean to kill you.” He smacked Jake on the back a couple times.
“Not helping.” Jake rolled his shoulders back and cleared his throat. “So, what? What the hell happened?”
“Well, he’s out working in the front yard. Started asking some questions about us. Seemed really interested in you. Apparently he thinks you’re cute enough you must get plenty of action.”
“Action? Are you a forty-five-year-old divorced dad?” If Quinn was bringing something like that up to Ozzy of all people—not the most warm and cuddly person on the job site—then Jake was hardcore on his mind. Which felt pretty nice to know.
“Leave my language alone. Point is, I think he’s got the hots for you. Is that better? Wants to jump your bones?”
