Chapter Twelve
JOE RETURNED home smelling of sawdust and sweat, somehow chilled and overheated at the same time.
The wind and ice storm of the day before had hit Amherstburg and LaSalle particularly hard.
Joe’s employees had handled the cleanup the previous day, when Joe was so discombobulated with thoughts of Austin that handling power tools would’ve posed a danger to his health.
Today, though, Justin had called out sick, and clearing away the rest of the fallen trees couldn’t wait when it might mean losing business.
Besides, he needed the money.
At least today he was able to concentrate without the constant thrum of arousal under his skin. Even if he mostly assigned himself to the rote physical labor of dragging branches and logs from the backyard to the front, where Eric would toss them into the chipper.
He walked in the front door to find the kids and Austin gone. Starling was in the basement, labeling the brand-new electrical panel.
“Hey.”
“Hey, he says,” Starling mock groused, turning just long enough to give him a wry look. “Leaves me alone in his house all day doing manual labor, didn’t even save me any risotto—”
“I did hide the biscotti, though.”
Starling narrowed her eyes and gave him a long look.
“Right. The power’s back on, but I need to finish labeling this panel. You’re going upstairs to make me coffee to go with that biscotti, and then you’re going to confess to me whatever it is that’s making your face do that thing.”
“What thing?” Joe grumbled but did as Starling directed. He wasn’t about to risk the wrath of his best friend, or the electrician that basically wired his house for free.
“And shower!” she yelled after him as he headed out the door.
Once they were settled in the kitchen with their coffee and biscotti between them, Starling dipped her treat in her coffee and said, “So, what’s going on?”
Joe considered lying, but truthfully, he was glad she was here. He needed to tell someone, and based on Will’s blushes that morning, the kids were the last people he should confide in.
“I slept with him.”
Starling paused with her mug halfway to her mouth. “By him, I’m going to assume Austin. And by slept, I’m guessing you don’t mean platonically.”
“That was two nights ago.”
Starling stared.
“I couldn’t let him sleep in the trailer during the storm,” Joe protested.
“Right. So you decided to compound the first questionable choice with another?”
“There was red wine involved,” Joe muttered petulantly.
Starling glanced once more at her coffee, which she’d yet to take a sip from. “You got any whiskey?”
“Will Baileys do?” Joe offered. He had a weakness at Christmas time.
“I guess it’ll have to.”
Once their coffee was fortified with some healthy glugs of Irish cream, Starling resumed the interrogation. Not that she had to do much interrogating. Joe had already folded like origami in the rain.
“You flipped to see who would top.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time?”
“Why didn’t you just offer? Obviously he didn’t mind you throwing yourself at his dick ass-first.”
“It seemed more fun?”
“Joseph. You are such a disaster bisexual.”
Joe sighed. “I know. But what am I going to do?”
“Didn’t you already do something? I thought that was the problem.”
“Starling. I slept with him. It was good. I wanna do it again.”
She caught and held his gaze. Despite her earlier teasing, her face was serious now. “So, either don’t sleep with him again, or talk to him like an adult, have a relationship, and sleep with him again.”
Joe groaned and dropped his forehead to the table.
“That would be a terrible idea, right?” He turned his head so he could catch her eye.
Joe did not want to enter into a relationship with a parodic house husband.
That was a foolish idea that would end in heartbreak, and he definitely couldn’t do casual with Austin.
He widened his eyes at her. “Like, objectively.”
“Yes, Joe, all your ideas are inherently terrible, so… definitely don’t do that.”
Joe pouted. “You weren’t supposed to agree so quickly.”
“Hey, I’m your bestie. I’m not supposed to lie to you either.” She reached out and combed her fingers through his hair. “The truth hurts.”
The truth was that Joe was a hopeless romantic who preferred love and candlelit dinners to one-night stands, who loved having a partner and who had maybe, kinda, sorta settled once or twice instead of calling time of death on a relationship.
And Joe didn’t want a relationship with Austin because of all the entanglements. Super messy.
Not that he had to worry about that, since Austin didn’t do relationships or dating. Come to think of it, that made him kind of the ideal candidate for a friendly one-nighter.
And a terrible candidate for a longer-term arrangement.
“Keep it in your pants, Casanova,” Starling intoned seriously, the words at odds with the amused twist of her lips.
Sighing, Joe held up his first two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
He actually had been a scout too. He could never tell Austin that; he’d never hear the end of it.
“Good. Now that that’s over with, can I get a fist bump?”
Joe blinked. Starling had her hand held out toward him, fingers closed around the palm. “I’m getting kinda mixed signals here, babe.”
“Please. Austin was absolutely the wrong guy to play prod the peach with, but how long has it been since you had an orgasm with another sentient being? Note that I am explicitly excluding Paul.”
“Why is everyone so hung up on the numbers?” Joe whined. His mind shied away from doing any kind of calculation. It was winter. Things were depressing enough. “Everybody’s so mean to me.”
“What, who else asked you? The kids?”
“Worse. Austin.”
Starling’s lips twitched the way they did when she was fighting a smile. “Did you lose it early or something?”
Joe gasped theatrically. “First of all, how dare you. Second of all, technically I was bottoming, so that wouldn’t have mattered—”
Starling cackled.
“—not that it was a problem. And finally, this was the conversation we had before the pants came off.”
“Oh, so you were just setting realistic expectations.”
He tossed the remainder of his biscotti at her. “Fuck off.”
She picked it off the floor and popped it in her mouth. “Nah. That’s your job.” She slugged back some more Irish coffee and grinned impishly. “You telling the kids?”
“Oh my God, no, why would I do that?” What a shitstorm that would cause. Gavin and Alex would roast his ass from here to next Tuesday and—“Will would cry. He totally has a crush.”
“Joe. Joe.” Starling put her mug down and leaned forward, reaching for his hand. “You cannot make Austin his stepmom. At least not without installing cameras and some kind of livestream. Seriously, there’s good money in that—”
“Starling—”
“Please, I’m begging you. If he finds out, you have to get it on video—”
“That’s mean,” Joe said, but he was giggling too. He blamed the coffee. “I don’t think Austin’s noticed, which makes it funnier. I feel bad for Will, though.”
Starling nodded sagely. “Where are the age-appropriate queers when you need ’em.”
“Right?” He shook his head. He got it, though. It wasn’t like Will could date anyway, with his fundamentalist parents. It was safer to crush on someone he couldn’t have.
Now that was depressing. He pulled his mind back to more cheerful matters. “Anyway, now that we’ve got the place more or less ready to go—we’re thinking Christmas Eve dinner. You, us, the kids, probably my mom. I’ll invite Linda. Bring a friend if you want.”
Starling had this unique ability—she could give you the side eye right to your face. “So this thing where you need to draw a line between your personal life, your sex life, and your partner in temporary homeownership—how’s that going for you?”
Joe flipped her off again. “Shut up. You want another biscotti?”