6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
The morning sun cast long shadows across the yard as Sera’s lanky figure, leaning against a peeling support beam, awaited him on the porch. He parked, avoiding looking up as he unbuckled and told his nerves to chill.
“You can do this,” he muttered, steeling himself before climbing out.
“Morning,” Sera called, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.
“Morning,” Colt echoed. He ducked his head, avoiding Sera’s piercing green gaze as he climbed the creaking porch steps.
To his surprise, Sera didn’t push for conversation. Instead, he simply held the door open, allowing Colt to enter first. The gesture, small as it was, eased some of the tension in Colt’s shoulders.
The air inside still felt as stifling as it had on day one. How in the hell had Dad survived in this? Colt swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. Their job wasn’t any easier now after the earthquake. The Jenga tower hoard had finally toppled.
“I figured we could start with the living room,” he said, gesturing to the mountain of cardboard boxes.
Sera nodded, already rolling up his sleeves. “Lead the way.”
As Colt hefted the first box, he couldn’t help but notice how Sera’s eyes lingered on him, something unreadable but almost curious playing across his features. Heat crept up his neck, and he quickly looked away.
They fell into a rhythm, carrying boxes outside where they actually had room to work, shifting through their contents. It was grueling, the dreary weather humid and cold and confining them to the covered porch, but having company made it almost bearable. For the most part, Colt stayed focus, but every now and again he found himself stealing glances at Sera.
“What’s this?” Sera asked, holding up a tarnished silver pocket watch.
Colt’s lips twitched into a bittersweet smile. “One of Dad’s many collections. He went through a period where he was obsessed with timepieces.” He watched Sera run the pad of his thumb over the engraved surface. “He used to say that time was the only thing you couldn’t really collect, so he tried to capture it in other ways.”
Sera’s expression softened. “That’s...oddly poetic.”
Colt couldn’t help a soft laugh. “Yeah, well. Dad had his moments. But then he moved on the rubber ducks and vintage Coke bottles.”
As the day wore on, Colt found himself sharing more stories. Each item unearthed sparked a memory: his father’s collection of antique keys, the stacks of National Geographic magazines dating back to the 1950s, even the bizarre assortment of bird feathers stuffed into glass jars, back when Glenn had still been able to leave the house for any period of time to walk the nature trails and beaches.
“Glenn was a character,” Sera remarked, carefully resealing a box of vintage postcards.
Colt paused, a lump forming in his throat. “He was. For all his mess, all his issues…”
“A person can be a mess and still be a good person,” Sera said. “No less deserving of being loved…and missed.”
Colt looked up. The gentleness in Sera’s eyes threatened to undo him, and his vision blurred.
He quickly turned away.
“So, how did you end up here? With my dad, I mean.”
Sera gave something of a wry smile. “Not much of a story, I’m afraid. I was drifting, looking for work. Your dad needed help hauling some stuff.” He shrugged. “We got to talking, and next thing I knew, he offered me use of the yard in exchange for helping out around the property. Keeping up the lawn, wrangling in the hedges by the road so the city didn’t complain…”
Colt nodded, trying to picture his father extending such an offer. It was both surprising and yet completely in character. “That sounds like Dad,” he murmured, a familiar ache settling in his chest.
“Glenn was...complicated,” Sera continued, his voice distant. “He had good intentions, you know. Always talking about cleaning this place up, making it livable again.”
“Yeah?”
Sera’s green eyes met Colt’s, filled with a mixture of compassion and something harder to define. “Everyone’s got their demons to fight, the skeletons in their closet. Glenn was no different. His just…got the better of him. He was so damned trapped in his own mind.”
Colt absently fiddled with a dusty knick-knack. “He refused to get help,” he whispered, more to himself than to Sera. “I tried, god knows I tried, but he pushed everyone away.”
“Pride... Pride can be a hell of a thing to overcome.”
“I think about it a lot,” Colt admitted, “about how different things might’ve been if Mom hadn’t died.”
Sera stopped what he was doing and looked at him. His silence prodded Colt to continue.
“I don’t remember it much, I was so little, but I do remember our house being normal back then. Mom and Dad were always doing projects. Painting, fixing old stuff, trying to find just the right materials to keep the Victorian structure ‘authentic.’” Cold sighed. “Even after her death, it didn’t happen all at once. It was like a cancer that looked benign at first, but then kept spreading, overtaking everything, metastasizing.”
He stopped. Finally spared a look at Sera, who was still watching him with an unreadable expression.
“Sorry, that was…getting a little deep.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m happy you felt comfortable sharing.” Sera ducked his head. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe losing your mom was just…a hurt that ran too deep.”
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken understanding. Colt wondered about Sera’s own past, the hints of pain that sometimes flickered behind his charming exterior. But he didn’t dare ask, not yet. That would’ve invited Sera to ask more questions of him, too, and he wasn’t ready for that. Enough of himself had been laid bare today, and there was more to come as they picked apart the house.
Instead, he focused on the task at hand, grateful for the companionable silence that settled over them as they continued to work through the remnants of Glenn Grieves’ complicated life.
***
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Colt’s muscles ached. He wiped his brow, smearing dirt across his forehead. Sera looked equally worn. At some point during the day, he’d pulled his hair back into a lopsided bun to keep it off the back of his neck. Despite the cold, they’d worked up a sweat with the constant heavy lifting.
“I think that’s enough for today,” Sera said, stretching his long arms above his head. “How about some dinner? I’ve got pasta.”
Colt hesitated, his stomach growling in betrayal. “You’ve gotta be exhausted.”
Sera’s lips quirked into a smile. “I’m also starving. Come on, I insist.”
They trudged to Sera’s trailer, Colt’s footsteps heavy with fatigue. Inside, the small space felt intimate, just as uncomfortable as it had the day before. As Sera bustled about preparing their meal, Colt studied the man’s graceful movements as they settled into amiable silence.
“So,” Sera said when dinner was close to done, his tone deliberately casual, “you seeing anyone these days?”
Colt paused in mid-sip of his drink. “Uh, no. Not for a while now. My last relationship... It didn’t end well.”
Sera nodded, setting two steaming plates on the table before taking a seat. Their knees brushed beneath the table, sending jolts of electricity through Colt’s tired body. “I hear that. My ex and I... Well, he and I wanted very different things in life.”
Colt’s heart skipped a beat at the casual mention of Sera’s ex-boyfriend. He cleared his throat. “My last boyfriend... He said I wasn’t worth the baggage I carried.”
Sera scowled. “That’s bullshit. I’m sure he had his weight in baggage himself.”
“Yeah.” Their eyes met across the table, and Colt felt a surge of warmth in his chest. He looked down at his plate, suddenly shy. “Thanks.”
As they ate, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by comfortable silences. Colt found himself relaxing, drawn in by Sera’s charm and wit. For the first time in years, he felt a spark of something he’d long forgotten—the sensation of taking comfort in another person’s presence. Not just in some casual group outing where casual friends made casual conversation while Colt sat quietly and largely unnoticed. But comfort in a private setting? With someone that Colt had a hard time taking his eyes off, no less.
As they were about finished with their meals, Colt twirled his fork absently, gathering courage. The question had been nagging at him all day. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” he began, his voice soft. “Sera... It’s an pretty unique name. Is it short for something?”
Sera’s easy smile faltered for a moment, a shadow passing over his angular features.
“Seraphim,” he said after a pause. “It’s short for Seraphim.”
Confused, Colt stopped chewing, swallowed. “Seraphim. Like…angels?”
“Exactly like the angels,” Sera replied, his voice tinted with a bitter hue. He pushed a strand of graying hair behind his ear, avoiding Colt’s gaze. “You see it all the time, don’t you? Religious families giving their kids biblical names. Cain, Isaac, Joseph, Noah, Mary. My parents took it a step further. Thought naming me after the highest order of angels would make me holy or something.”
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken pain. Colt could see Sera’s jaw clenching, his fingers tightening around his glass.
“I’m not in touch with them anymore,” Sera added abruptly, glancing up and offering a smile that was too tight around the edges. “Haven’t been for a long time.”
“I’m sorry,” Colt said softly. “That must have been hard.”
Sera shrugged, his casual demeanor returning like a mask sliding into place. “Ancient history.”
“Well,” Colt said, desperate to lighten the mood, “I like it. Sera, I mean. It suits you.”
Sera raised an eyebrow, a hint of his earlier charm returning. “Oh? How so?”
“Uh.” Heat flooded into his face. He hadn’t thought beyond that singular statement. But, oh, he was suddenly very aware of how close they were sitting, how the dim light of the trailer caught the barest flecks of gold in Sera’s green eyes. “It’s just, you’re kind of... I mean...” He trailed off, mortified.
But Sera was smiling now, genuinely smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?”
Colt ducked his head, blond hair falling forward to hide his burning face as he shoved his food around with his fork. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m not very good at...this.” Whatever this was.
Sera reached out, gently tucking that errant bit of hair behind Colt’s ear. “You’re doing just fine,” he said softly.
The gentle brush of Sera’s fingers against his skin sent a shiver down his spine. He looked up, meeting Sera’s intense gaze, and for a moment, the world hit paused. The cramped trailer faded away, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of charged silence.
Colt cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “I should probably get going,” he said reluctantly, pushing back from the small table. “It’s getting late. Dinner was delicious.”
Sera stood with him, unfolding gracefully in the confined space. “Right, of course,” he agreed, but there was a hitch of hesitation in his voice.
At the trailer door, Sera lingered, his hand on the frame. “You know,” he started, then paused, an uncharacteristic uncertainty lacing his words. “If you wanted to... I mean, it’s a long drive back to your hotel...”
Colt’s heart leaped, but Sera seemed to lose his nerve, trailing off into silence. For a moment,
Colt considered asking if he could stay, imagining what it might be like to spend the night there. Pressed together beneath those down blankets on the small mattress, his fingers tangling into Sera’s long hair…
He couldn’t make his mouth cooperate, though.
“Thanks,” Colt said softly. “But I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Sera nodded, his usual composure returning. “Bright and early,” he said with a smile. “Goodnight, Colt.”
***
As Colt drove back to his hotel, the winding, mountainous roads of Gold Moon Bay seemed to mirror the twists and turns of his thoughts. Every curve brought him back to the trailer, sitting across from Sera, admiring the way his long fingers had looked wrapped around his glass, the hint of gray at his temples, out of place for a guy in his early thirties but that only added to his allure.
In his sparse hotel room, Colt collapsed onto the bed, his mind racing. Even in the darkness, he could see Sera’s face, imagine the warmth of his skin, the softness of his lips. Could picture the frost creeping up the corners of the poorly insulated windows while the two of them kept each other warm.
His body responded to the thought, a familiar heat pooling low in his belly. Colt groaned, torn between embarrassment and arousal. Whatever these feelings were, he did not need the added complication on top of everything else.
But as his hand drifted lower, Colt couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if he’d stayed. Would Sera have taken his face in his hands like he had the day before and kiss him? Would those elegant fingers have explored his body? The fantasy took hold, and Colt wanted so badly to surrender to it, his breath quickening in the quiet room. If they’d met at any other point—a bar, a club, a library—he wouldn’t have had any hangups about this.
But this wasn’t any other time. It was here and now, and now they were supposed to be working together—working together to get through his dead dad’s stuff .
Colt’s hand froze, hovering above his waistband. He rolled onto his side, burying his face in the pillow to muffle a frustrated groan. Then he sat up abruptly and shoved a hand through his mused hair. The outdated digital clock on the nightstand glowed an accusatory red: 1:37 a.m.
He stood and paced the small room. The house. My focus is the house. I still have my apartment to deal with. Finding a place here. I can’t drag this out forever.
His eyes landed on the stack of papers on the table—property documents, legal forms, all reminders of why he was really there. Colt picked them up, flipping through them aimlessly.
The house is what matters, he told himself again. Not some hard-on for a guy I barely know. This wasn’t some chance meeting where he could have a good fuck and go about his life the next day. They still had to see one another, to interact. And therein lay a big problem.
He could have hooked up with Sera, had a perfect night…and then he’d have spent the next two weeks obsessively checking his phone, hoping for a text or a call he’d never get.
The sting of rejection on an ordinary day from an ordinary guy was bad enough, but then having to then see Sera for however long this cleanup took? Trying to feign casual aquaintanceship when all he wanted to do was pitifully make eyes at the guy and pray for a shred of acknowledgment? He didn’t want to shack up and go separate ways in the morning.
Not with anyone—certainly not with Sera.
So, yeah, Colt could do one-night stands…but he was really fucking bad at them.
“Stay focused,” he whispered, his voice was barely audible, a habit from years of living in a house where every inch of space was crammed with stuff, where even words seemed to take up too much room. He shook his head as if he could physically dislodge the thoughts. Attempts at reading through some of the paperwork failed, so he threw himself face-first back onto the bed.
Keep your head in the game .
Just then, his phone dinged. He turned his head so he could crack an eye open to see the text popping up onto his lock screen.
Sera
TY for dinner. Let’s do it again? ;)
Something that threatened to be a smile tugged at Colt’s mouth, softening his defenses—and his resolve.