Chapter Ten
Connor pulled the van up outside the office Monday lunchtime and saw Sam through the window, balanced precariously on the top rung of a stepladder.
He was reaching above his head to fix a string of orange lights to the window frame, and Connor found his eyes drawn to the smooth strip of exposed stomach where his sweater had ridden up.
Connor got out of the van and headed into the office, arriving just in time to rush forward and steady Sam at the waist as his wobble turned into a topple.
“You’re going to get me in trouble with OSHA,” he teased, acutely aware of Sam’s warm skin beneath his fingers.
“Shit, sorry.” Sam held onto Connor’s shoulder as he helped him down the ladder. When Sam reached solid ground, he turned so they were facing, close enough that the toes of their shoes touched.
After their conversation on Friday, Sam had slotted right back into their usual friendly rapport. It was Connor who was having a hard time acting normal. He moved to retrieve the dangling end of the lights to put some space between them. “We’re redecorating?”
“Mary Merkle came by this morning while you were out.”
Connor groaned. Mary Merkle was the head of the town beautification committee and was always trying to rope him into participating in one event or another.
“They’re encouraging businesses to dress up their windows for the fall festival, and she suggested we get involved too. So I went out and picked up a few things from the store.” Sam gestured at the pile of decorations he’d gathered, which included not one but three giant pumpkins.
“We don’t usually do anything,” Connor admitted. “We’re not the kind of business that brings in foot traffic.”
“Oh.” Sam’s face fell. “I thought it couldn’t hurt to get into the festivities. Show we’re part of the community.”
Connor knew what his old man would have said. He’d witnessed his dad’s tirades at Mary Merkle when she’d come by the office in the past, asking about a committee vote or requesting donations to refurbish the town gazebo.
“You’re right. No harm in showing a little fall spirit.” Connor raised his arm to hook the string of lights to the nail Sam had hammered into the window frame, and both lights and nail promptly fell to the floor.
Sam grimaced. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Try hammering at an angle instead of straight in.” Connor took the hammer from Sam’s hand and showed him how to hold the nail pointing downward. He was tall enough not to need the stepladder.
Sam stood back, observing him. “You’ve got to admit, it’s pretty hot—objectively speaking,” he hurried to add, sounding embarrassed. “Most guys I know can’t even assemble IKEA furniture.”
“Worth including in my Grindr profile?” Connor joked, trying to put the man at ease. “Six-one, blue eyes—”
“Good with his hands,” Sam quipped, and his cheeks flared. He bent to unravel a plastic garland of leaves in red and yellow, hiding his face. “So, is that, um, how you meet—God, how does one even go about meeting guys here?”
“Thistle Inn hosts a rainbow disco on the second Thursday of each month.”
“Really?”
“No, Sam. It’s Oakdale.”
Sam let out a snort. “You poor thing, stuck out here in gay no-man’s-land.”
Connor prickled with a sudden defensiveness. He didn’t want Sam to think he was some wide-eyed ingenue. “If you’re suggesting I’ve been hanging around, pining like a closeted nun, you can relax. The apps help.”
“Are there lots of other guys in town?”
Connor took one end of the garland from Sam and brought it up to where he’d reattached the string of lights. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know. I give Oakdale a wide berth, and I’m careful with photos.”
“You’re lucky on Grindr, no one’s interested in your face.”
Connor laughed. He wasn’t familiar with Sam’s brassy side. He must have been dialing it down before for Connor’s sake. Connor liked their newfound complicity.
Sam held the garland taut while Connor began pinning it to the window frame with a handful of nails. “I’ve refused to log on since I got back,” Sam said. “I’m afraid of what I’ll find.”
“It might have saved us an awkward conversation.”
“Or resulted in us having an even more awkward one.” Sam flashed Connor a cheeky smile. “But for the record, the other night wasn’t awkward,” he said, his tone softening. “Not in the slightest. And I wanted you to know, I respect where you’re at. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Connor remembered how quick he’d been to assume the worst after running into Sam’s mom at the supermarket. Of course Sam understood. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to put you in that position. I know it’s not ideal.”
“No, it’s fine, really.”
Connor finished hanging the garland and took in the state of the display. The leaves were a little crumpled from the packaging, and the window wasn’t big enough for the length of the lights, so they trailed off unevenly on one side.
Beside him, Sam’s face lit up. “I didn’t even ask if you’re seeing someone!”
Connor felt a familiar pang. The problem with hiding was that eventually, whoever he was with wanted to come home to meet Mom and Dad, and Connor had no choice but to disappoint. “Not currently. You?”
Sam shook his head and picked up a wreath of orange pinecones. He busied himself trying to unfix the tag.
“Well, if you do decide to explore your own backyard, I can steer you away from the pitfalls,” Connor offered.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Sam said with a curl of bitterness. He gave the tag another yank, but it refused to come loose.
Sensing his frustration, Connor eased the wreath from Sam’s hands and snapped the tag off with a flick of his wrist. “Why’s that?”
Sam took it back with a sigh. “I got out of something recently, and I don’t think I’m cut out for exploring.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
Connor saw the way Sam’s eyes darkened. “What’s next?” he asked, switching gears.
Sam looked at the pile of decorations by his feet. “Maybe we can prop the wreath on the sill next to the scarecrow.”
“And the pumpkins? If we carve them, I could throw a bulb inside and hook it up to the mains.”
“Pretty sure that’s a fire hazard. I can see Mary’s face now. We’ll have sullied the good name of the festival for years to come.”
“Yeah, and I don’t think my dad could handle me burning any more shit down.”
Sam tittered, and the mood lightened once again. “Let’s just bunch them up together under the window. You should be able to see that from outside.”
While Sam arranged the pumpkins, Connor plugged the string of lights into the wall. Then they both stood back to admire their handiwork.
“It’s so bad,” Sam whispered. “The barber on Main Street made a giant squirrel out of gourds.”
“Gourds, huh?”
“So much for queer eye.” Sam turned to him, his expression grim. “It’s official, Connor. We’ve erased years of gay progress with this pathetic excuse for a window display.”
“Well, the good news is, Mary will take one look at this and never ask us to participate again.”
“How is that good news?” Sam said, trying not to laugh. He began collecting the trash from the decorations and tossing it into the bin by the desk.
“Mrs. Morris told me this morning that she booked her dryer install on the website,” Connor said, gathering up the tools. It was the first he’d heard of it. “We have a website now?”
“I may have thrown something together last week.”
“So you thought you’d ease me in with the social media stuff?”
“I didn’t want to dump too many changes on you at once.” Sam hovered by the desk, studying Connor’s reaction. “I figured we could link the website to the booking system so people can schedule the simpler services themselves.”
“You know I can’t afford to pay you more, right?” Connor said quietly.
Sam gave him a funny look. “I know that. Don’t worry about it. I get a kick out of optimizing stuff—it’s like a tic. And it makes my job easier, so win-win.”
“Okay,” Connor relented. “But the least I can do is buy you lunch. And, like, an actual meal. None of this soup-and-crackers crap.”
“Wow,” Sam teased. “Pulling out all the stops.”
Connor grinned. “You bet. You’re in for a taste of Oakdale’s finest.”
Jenny’s Diner was only a short walk from the office, but by the time they arrived, it was already packed with the lunch rush. As they waited to be seated, Sam peered at an announcement on the community notice board beside the register. “Hey, have you seen this?”
Connor looked over Sam’s shoulder at the flyer.
It was a call for nominations for the Oakdale Business Awards.
“Oh, yeah, the council puts it on every year. Just a bunch of mutual back-patting, according to my dad.” Circle jerk was the phrase he’d used, but Connor wasn’t about to utter that in polite company.
“I think he was just bitter because he never got nominated. Said our line of work wasn’t sexy enough. ”
“Look at the categories,” Sam said, scanning the list. “Up-and-Coming Businessperson.” He turned to Connor. “How about it? We’ll have to get a move on; applications are about to close.”
But Connor shook his head. The last thing he needed was more notoriety in this town. “I’m barely hanging on as it is. Maybe if they had a ‘What Not To Do’ category.”
“Come on,” Sam admonished, bumping Connor with his shoulder. “You’re not doing as bad as you think. And up-and-coming means exactly that—you’re not a seasoned pro, but you’re heading in the right direction.”
“High praise,” Connor retorted as they inched forward in the line.
“No, seriously,” Sam pressed. “I’m going to start writing down some of the compliments I get from customers on the phone—you’re reliable, you’re friendly, you go out of your way to help.”
“Look, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’d rather not,” Connor said, hoping he didn’t sound as put out as he felt. “There are plenty of other more deserving folk out there.”
The server indicated she was ready to seat them. Relieved, Connor moved to follow her, hoping that was the end of it.