17. Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Robinson
I should stop playing the flirty games like this. Robinson knew it wasn’t wise or appropriate or whatever to keep dropping little hints and making sexy comments.
But at the same time, Chuck wasn’t shying away from them. Even though he clearly wasn’t over Andrew, when Robinson talked about leaking and caulking and laying pipe and hammering, Chuck played right along.
Maybe it’s a good distraction for him. He doesn’t have to worry so much about everything else. It was the excuse Robinson was going with until proven wrong, and it was certainly making their work in the master bath go faster. The tiles there had come up easily on the first try, which was good news. Robinson was hoping to get this shower as close to finished as possible that day. They’d finished up the downstairs bathroom first, so it wasn’t like Chuck and the boys would have to go without, but it was always better to have more available.
The space was more open, and there were more bodies moving in and out to help haul stuff, but Chuck seemed pretty intent on staying close enough to Robinson for a conversation in spite of all the opportunities to get some personal space. Which only increased Robinson’s desire to flirt.
He sighed and plopped down in the tub, looking up at Chuck. “Once we get the go-ahead that the water’s been shut off, I’ll replumb your shower, then we can get everything put back together, and the crew will come in and put in your new tile. It’ll be a good chance to swap out your hot water heater too.”
“Bless you.” Chuck hopped up and sat on the vanity, butt hanging halfway into one of the sinks. “That thing has been a nuisance since we moved in, but it was never quite bad enough for us to want to pay for an upgrade. But we always had to have a bath and shower schedule so all the boys could clean up and we could clean up without somebody freezing their balls off.” He rolled his eyes and smiled, looking off into the distance. “Part of me always thought that was just an excuse for Andrew to get me in the shower. Then one day, we tried to do it separately. Wasn’t cute. I had to scrub myself down in ice water.”
“Well, I’m sure you didn’t mind sharing a shower with him regardless.”
“Oh, God. I hated it most of the time. I like shower sex, but actually trying to use it to wash up with another person is a pain in the ass.” Chuck shifted a little bit so he wasn’t hanging quite so far over into the sink. “We used to fight over the soap almost every time. Liked different scents. Ended up so we would have to play rock-paper-scissors every time we went shopping. And somehow, he was always good at that game. Beat me over and over. Thought maybe I’d get to use my preferred scents, now.” He shook his head and gestured vaguely towards the tub. “I still buy his. Can’t bear not smelling like roses and vanilla anymore.” He shook his head and finally looked back down at Robinson. “Sorry. Getting maudlin over here, and I’m not even drunk.”
“Well, we could fix that.” Robinson still didn’t have any word on the water, but he wasn’t going to complain about a little more time to chat. “I can always run out and get a handle of vodka or something. You don’t mind me plumbing up your master bath while I’m loaded, do you?”
“Oh, so now it’s not about getting me drunk, it’s about getting you drunk?”
“It’s about getting us drunk. Together.”
Before Chuck got anything else out, the contractor stuck her head inside. “Got the water shut down. You should be good to go.”
“Thanks.” Robinson turned around and faced the exposed pipes. “Last chance to bail and do something nicer.”
“Nicer than hanging out with you? Doesn’t seem likely.”
The words sizzled up Robinson’s spine and tingled across his scalp, but he didn’t say anything. There was no reason to think anything into that. Chuck was probably just having a decent time, or at least not stressing. It was zero secret that he’d been stressed since they even suggested the idea of the boys heading out to go shopping, but this had apparently been enough of a distraction to keep him calm. Or at least calmer. That was all it was, not any kind of admission that he liked spending time with Robinson.
Not in the way my dumb, hormonal ass is trying to convince me he does.
Chuck hopped down and moved closer, temporarily blocking the light to the pipes. Then he flicked on a flashlight and illuminated the whole thing. “My dad never screamed at me for holding the flashlight wrong while he was working on a car, so let me know if I’m fucking this up.”
“No, it’s good.” Robinson forced himself to focus in on the job and grabbed his Channellocks. He snugged them around the first fitting, then wrenched at it. At first, nothing. Then, all in one creaking swing, the fitting gave and he managed to twist it. Once he had it loosened, he could unscrew the rest by hand, so he looked back at Chuck, twisting with one hand and shielding his eyes with the other. “You want to grab that bucket and get it ready? Once this comes undone all the way, there shouldn’t be much water. But whatever’s in there is probably going to be pretty grody.”
“I’m on it.” Chuck swapped the flashlight for an empty paint bucket, then moved in closer.
In spite of himself, and fully knowing better, Robinson took a deep whiff and, sure enough, Chuck smelled like roses and vanilla. Wonder what his actual preference is for soap? Because I could get used to this one fast.
Robinson felt the fitting loosening up. “All right. Here we go.” He gave it a couple more turns and the fitting fell down, followed by the pipe…followed by water that completely jumped over the bucket and sprayed all over Robinson, soaking his shirt down. “Oh crap.”
“Sorry. I should have—”
“No, not your fault. Plumbing hazard.” Once the water finished draining out—after the initial spray, the rest did go into the empty bucket—Robinson laid the pipe down, then rose and checked himself in the mirror. Absolutely soaked and dripping. “Sorry. I’m not trying to make a mess of your floors, here.”
“Water? On the bathroom floor? Quelle horreur .”
Robinson chuckled as he lifted the hem of his shirt up, balling the fabric together over the paint bucket. Then he squeezed and twisted, wringing out as much water as he could.
His eyes darted to the side and saw Chuck staring . Not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze was lined up straight with Robinson’s abdomen.
Maybe he does like spending time with me…that way? He felt the heat racing up his chest, his neck, and into his cheeks and ears…but this was the time to throw caution to the wind, even if he was fighting back a wash of embarrassment and really wishing he’d hit the gym before coming over to work for the day. “You, uh, like what you see?”
“Oh. Um.” Chuck tore his eyes away and looked straight up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m not bothered. Kind of flattered. Really flattered.” A quick glance in the mirror told Robinson that, yes, he was pure scarlet at this point, but he muscled ahead, letting his shirt drop now that he’d gotten about as much water out of it as he was going to. “I wouldn’t mind if you had to wring out your own shirt.”
“Oh, and look at middle-aged flab?” He still wasn’t making eye contact, but he smiled all the same. “I really am not trying to cross any lines.”
“Me either.” Robinson hesitated—more than usual—but if they’d already broached the subject, it was as good a time as any to push ahead. He rested his hand on Chuck’s shoulder, and while it was definitely supposed to comfort or calm, Robinson couldn’t help but feel a little different about it. “But if you ever do want to show me, I can give you my number. We can maybe see about having coffee or a drink or something?”
Chuck’s mouth gaped open and Robinson heard him inhale…just as the front door banged downstairs and Ev’s voice floated up. “Honey, we’re home! And we need some strapping men to carry all these heavy, heavy boxes indoors while we recline on a divan!”
Chuck’s body tensed and he pulled back. “I should go check in with the boys. Sorry again.”
He disappeared and Robinson’s whole body tried to collapse. I took my shot and it didn’t go well. That was always likely. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.
“Hey.”
Robinson lifted his head to see Chuck, standing fully in the doorway, and finally making eye contact.
Robinson cleared his throat. “You forget something?”
“No. Yes? Not something.” He huffed and rolled his eyes, seemingly at himself. “I just…I wasn’t saying no. I was saying that’s a lot to process in two seconds while my sons are all downstairs and…I need a minute to think. You are really cute, though. And…yeah. I just don’t want you to take that as a ‘never in a million years’ or something.” He nodded and, before Robinson could say anything in response, headed back into the hallway and down the stairs.
He came back. That’s something .