12. Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Chuck
Seeing the absolute circus around his house just one day into this job, Chuck was ready to take Homescapes up on their offer and move him and the boys to a hotel. Not because it would be any easier for his family, but just to avoid the explosion of people suddenly in his space. It also looked pretty bad around the place. His front yard, as small as it was, had been torn into, and people were wheelbarrowing loads of dirt and gravel and refuse around. A few people were actively hauling buckets of paint and primer and who knew what else inside.
There was also a white, open-sided tent thing set up outside, already packed to the gills with big power tools: a circular saw, a selection of drills, sanders of different sizes, and a bunch of other stuff Chuck didn’t actually recognize. Jake, the crew’s carpenter was bent over one of the tables set up in there, scratching away at a large sheet of paper with one of those weird, rectangular carpentry pencils.
Chuck headed that way, only partially out of anxiety. Once he got close enough, he tried to make his movements big enough that Jake couldn’t miss him. It seemed to work as Jake straightened up and smiled at him. “Good day at work?”
Boring day at work . Not that working in the registrar’s office was ever particularly high-octane, but he’d basically just managed spreadsheets all day. “It was fine.” Chuck walked a few more steps into the tent, looking around. “Everything good with the house?”
Jake glanced around as well, then laughed and waved his hand through the air. “I’m not fixing up anything major, just building furniture.”
He gestured toward the paper he’d been working on, so Chuck leaned over to take a better look at it. A dozen or more sketches covered it, from shelves to little tables to some kind of rolling cart that had been circled, with a question mark next to it. Chuck…didn’t see how any of that fit in, but he would take anything other than his walls about to cave in or something. “Seems like you’re going to be busy.”
“Just the way I like it.” Jake tapped his pencil in the air in front of him, but dropped it. “Damn.” He rolled his eyes, then bent down to snatch it back up. “Pretend I’m not a total klutz and I’m actually a really cool, sexy carpenter.”
Chuck offered a nervous laugh, but more so he didn’t say anything that was running through his head. Not that Jake was a bad-looking guy, but if he was picking sexy members of the team…well, he had eyes on a plumber. “I think you’re cool. For whatever that’s worth from my old ass.”
Jake rolled his eyes once more, with extra emphasis. “Not like you’re crawling out of the grave to eat our brains, Chuck. What are you, forty?”
Forty-seven. “Something like that.”
“If I wasn’t already attached, I’d be down.” Jake stopped, his face contorting into a harsh cringe. “Not that I would, like, try to step in before you were ready. Or anyone was ready. Fuck. I mean…no I mean fuck.” He shook his head. “I’m not trying to discount anything about—”
Chuck laughed. Maybe if it was someone else, he wouldn’t have, but something about Jake trying and failing—repeatedly—to cover his ass over something that didn’t even matter blunted the sharp edges of grief that may otherwise have dug in. “You’re good. I’m not offended. I’m flattered that some young jock thinks I could still get some.” He patted Jake on the shoulder. “I’m going to head in. Anything I should be prepared for?”
Jake sighed and, just like that, the tension released from his body, as if had hadn’t just been tying himself into knots a second ago. “Think there’s still a toilet in your living room. On a tarp. And just a lot of mess, a lot of plastic covering stuff. We’re still waiting on them to deliver the storage container so we can move stuff out of the way.”
He gestured toward a coned-off area at the edge of the property. Chuck nodded. “All right. Thanks for the heads up.” As he walked away, some of the anxiety slid back into his body. He had to pause to let a couple more workers carry in yet more gallons of paint and some rollers before he finally made it inside.
Most of the floor had been covered in plastic sheeting and, sure enough, there was a less-than-clean toilet sitting smack dab in the middle of the path between the front door and the stairs. It was the toilet from the upstairs bathroom, which meant they were definitely gutting things up there. More than he maybe expected. Although, looking at the state of the toilet…he wasn’t exactly going to be volunteering to clean up the toilet crust and several years of accumulated dust.
“Chuck!” Mason jogged over, clutching a tablet under one arm. “I’m supposed to be looking out for you. Robinson had a couple questions he wanted to ask. He’s either in the upstairs bath or the master bath. Not sure which. Whenever you get changed and settled in.”
Chuck nodded. “I’ll go track him down. Thanks.” He headed up the stairs and peeked his head into the hallway bathroom. Danni was in there, along with another of the contractors they’d brought in, and they were currently chipping tile away from the wall behind the bathtub. No signs of Robinson though, so he pushed forward. All the boys had their doors closed, and Chuck wasn’t going to interrupt them if they were trying to get some quiet time amid the chaos.
Chuck stepped into his bedroom and closed the door most of the way to seclude himself a little bit from the sounds and the bustle, but he was also very aware—probably too aware—of the prospect of closing the door with himself and Robinson in there together. He slid out of his jacket as he called out, “Robinson?”
A clatter from the master bath, then a clear thud. “Crap.”
Chuck hurried over to see Robinson tangled up around the shower curtain and the rod, which was now in two halves. He was on the floor and trying to get himself untied. And Chuck was more than a little ashamed that his gaze drifted straight to the exposed line of his midriff. Robinson’s shirt had gotten involved in the tangle, so his belly was exposed. Smooth. Flat. Tan.
Inviting.
Chuck wasn’t sure how long he was caught staring, but it was clearly too long. Once he pulled himself back together, he bent down to get a better look. Robinson had caught his sleeve on one of the metal rings that held up the curtain and apparently that had pulled it down around him. “Here, I got you.” It took a little more effort than Chuck would have expected, and the hem of Robinson’s sleeve got torn in the process, but he managed to get Robinson loose and helped him back to his feet. “Sorry about that. Should have warned you, it’s an attack shower curtain.”
Robinson dusted himself off, then frowned down at his sleeve before rolling up, giving Chuck a very welcome peek at his muscles as he spoke. “I thought those were outlawed in the United States.”
“I hope I can count on your discretion. I’ve still got three boys to raise.”
“I’ll forego alerting the authorities. For now.” Robinson finished up with his sleeves, then sighed. “I assume Mason sent you up here to find me?”
“Yeah. Didn’t know it was a rescue mission.”
“I got a little startled when you called out.” He gestured to the curtain and rod now leaning against the wall by the vanity. “Then I did some impromptu demolition. But yeah, I wanted to ask a few questions about the bathroom. Without the boys around.”