Chapter 14
Teague
I showed up the next morning hoping that the concrete I’d poured the day before had set well. It had been hot, but it had cooled to the low 50s overnight. After delivering the morning pastries, and not finding Charlie in the office, I’d hoped he was waiting for me at his cabin. The intent, if the posts were good, was to build the frame today, and it was really a two-person job. If for no other reason than to hold the two by fours. If Charlie wasn’t available, I could call my dad, and he’d be happy to help. But I was hoping I’d get to work with Charlie again.
The door to the cabin opened the second after I pulled up, and Charlie stepped out with a tentative smile on his face. I waved, smiling back. He looked so good, with another pair of those loose pants and a long-sleeved T, both accentuating his body. Which I knew made him uncomfortable, so after a quick glance, I averted my gaze and hopped out.
“Morning! I’ll meet you around the back?” I called as I rounded the bed of the truck.
“Sure,” Charlie said.
I didn’t watch to see where he went, just focused on my task. I’d left the lumber stacked behind the cabin the day before, but I needed the power tools—the drill and nail gun in particular. I’d cut the boards at the sawmill, triple checking the measurements, so I didn’t have to haul a table saw, though I’d brought a circular saw just in case. The most important thing, though, was the toolbelt. I grinned to myself as I strapped it around my waist.
I didn’t specifically need it. My pockets could hold the bolts and screws, and I could clip the tape measure to the waist of my jeans. But Charlie had muttered something about a tool belt yesterday that I hadn’t quite caught. It sounded suspiciously like he’d find it hard to resist me if I was wearing one. And maybe it wasn’t fair, but I needed to stack the deck in my favor.
I was doing everything I could to make him comfortable. I was overly conscious of not staring, not looking too long even though all I wanted to do was watch him. And it seemed to be working. As our work progressed yesterday, he seemed to get more comfortable with me. He might not like my gaze on him, but I loved his on me. He could stare all he wanted.
Hence the toolbelt.
I carried my haul around the cabin and set the tools down off to the side out of the way. The aborted choked sound from Charlie was good for my ego, and I hid my smirk, not acknowledging it. Then I spotted Steve lounging in the shade, and I made my way there to pay him proper tribute with a heavy dose of ear scratches.
“You here to supervise? You’re a good boy; yes you are,” I cooed at the dog, squatting down. I knew the way these jeans would showcase my ass with the action. They were perfectly molded to my body after all the years of wear, and they pulled taut when I crouched down.
Charlie’s muffled moan was all I needed to hear.
I gave myself an extra moment of petting the dog to make sure my body was under control before I stood. Then I turned and clapped my hands, which startled Charlie and his gaze snapped to my face. It was all I could do not to grin, but I managed.
“Ready to get started? Oh wait!”
I jogged back around the side of the cabin and raced to my truck, realizing I’d forgotten his cupcake on the front seat. I ran back and handed it over with a flourish. Charlie took the box, and the smile that lit his face was a reward in and of itself. The way his eyes sparkled behind his glasses made my breath catch, but I acted like the run had winded me even though it hadn’t.
“You didn’t think I forgot, did you? I would never!” I placed a hand on my chest, as if I was appalled by the mere suggestion.
Charlie laughed, his gaze on the box. “You don’t have to bring me a cupcake every day.”
“But I like it. You enjoy them. Okay. To work!” I turned to inspect the posts and saw the concrete had cured well and the posts were secure. “Depending on how fast we get the frame built, we might be able to lay the decking and even put in the railings. The frame is what I really need your help with, to hold the boards while I secure them. After that, if you need to be somewhere else, I can do the rest.”
“I’m, uh,” Charlie cleared his throat. “I’m yours for the day.”
I really wanted to tell him I wanted him to be mine, full stop. But I knew better than that now, and I’d take what I could get. One day at a time, one cupcake at a time, I was determined to win him over. Unless he specifically said “no” or told me he didn’t want this, I was going to do what I could to get him.
“Excellent. Let’s do this.”
I made small talk as we worked, and Charlie opened up more the longer I kept at it. He took direction well, holding the board at the correct angle or grabbing the right tool. He declined when I offered to let him drill holes or tighten bolts, but he seemed happy enough to assist. That was just as well, because I was practiced at the work, and it went faster that way. Not that I wouldn’t have been happy to have this take days if it meant I got to spend time with him. But the part of me that liked to provide for my partners was anxious to get this done so that he had a safe place to work out.
Charlie didn’t like talking about himself, but he loved telling stories about his niblings. It was clear how much he loved them and his brother—who was apparently named Law, but who Charlie called Blue for some reason—and they were the light of his life. Once I stumbled onto that topic, I almost couldn’t get him to shut up.
“So, I asked Tristan if he wanted me to hold his juice, but he said ‘no, just hold me’ as he sat in my lap. And as soon as I wrapped my arms around him, he said ‘now brush my hair, slave.’” Charlie was chuckling as he recounted the story. “I swear he’s too smart for his own good, but where does he get off, ordering me around?”
“Something tells me Uncle Charlie brushed his hair anyway,” I said with a laugh.
“Well, what else was I supposed to do?” His eyes went wide as though it was obvious that he would cater to his nephew.
I grinned at him, then focused on the bolt I was tightening. It was the last one. “He’s five?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a great age. They’re really finding their personalities at that age.” I finished and straightened. “Okay, that’s done. Wanna take a break before we lay the supports?”
Charlie blinked. “Oh. Yeah, sounds good. I’ll get us some drinks? It’s pretty hot.”
“Sounds great. I’m gonna back the truck up over here so we can use the bed if we have to cut anything.” I fished the keys out of my pocket, holding them up and jingling them. Then I rolled my eyes at myself, because obviously Charlie knew what I meant. His happy little laugh warmed my insides.
We both went back to the front of the cabin. Charlie went inside, and I hopped into my truck. It took some concentration to get it turned around but then I was able to creep back, not caring if the trees scraped along the side of the truck. She had more than a few dings and dents in her paint job, just from the nature of my work, so I wasn’t worried. But when I finally got her positioned, I sat there for a long moment, thinking back over the past couple of hours.
I wasn’t always the best at reading people, but there was no denying that Charlie’s comfort level had risen. He hadn’t tugged on his sleeves at all and even pushed them up at several points, showing off his gorgeous forearms that I really wanted to touch. He met my gaze with increasing frequency and didn’t shy away when I gazed back. I made sure to keep my eyes trained on his face and only looked away when he did.
He was more open too, talking about how much he liked our town, how glad he was to be working for Nic and Dana, and of course, about the antics of his niblings. He seemed to have a special fondness for his oldest niece, Harper, whose middle name was Charlotte, after him.
“They were going to name her Charlotte Harper, but I told them to switch it. It’s still an honor, and two Charlies in a family might get confusing,” he’d said, but a sad sort of expression had passed over his face, so I’d quickly changed the subject. Not that I hadn’t wanted to pry, because I definitely had. Something about the naming thing had been important, but, at the same time, he was sincerely honored. I wanted to know the story behind it, but I filed it away as a question to ask later, when we knew each other better, if the opportunity came up.
“Teague?”
I jerked and saw Charlie standing right outside my door, his brow crinkled. I smiled and popped open the door. “Got lost in thought.”
“Okay. Here. I hope lemonade is okay.” He held out one of the glasses.
That’s when I realized he’d changed his shirt. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt now that barely came down past his biceps. His arms were long and pale, which made sense since he kept them covered, but strong. I opened my mouth, a comment on my tongue, but caught it at the last second.
“It’s great. Thanks.” I drained the glass in three long swallows, only then realizing how thirsty I’d been. I also didn’t miss the way Charlie’s gaze fixed on my throat, watching me swallow. What I wouldn’t give to feel his lips there. My neck was one of my hot buttons.
“We need to do better about staying hydrated,” Charlie said, shifting on his feet. His tone was just a hint breathless, and damn, I liked hearing it. “Let me grab the pitcher.”
I nodded and purposefully didn’t watch him walk away even though I really really wanted to. Once he was out of sight, I let out a long, slow breath, and mentally told my body to behave. The jeans I was wearing would hide my reaction, but only to a point. And while I couldn’t exactly control my physical reaction to Charlie, I needed to do my best.
A few minutes later, Charlie returned. He refilled my glass before setting the pitcher in the corner of the truck bed by the cab where it would be out of the way and sipping on his own. He watched me for a bit, not saying anything, and I let him as I looked over the stack of two by fours we would use as the joists.
“You know a lot about building, huh?”
I shrugged one shoulder and set my now empty glass down next to the pitcher. “My dad taught me everything he knows. He’s a carpenter by trade, though he’s mostly retired now.”
Charlie’s brows lifted. “Mostly?”
“Mhmm. Now he only does smaller projects for family or friends. Or when my mom wants something built.” I grinned, thinking about my parents. Forty-five years together and still hopelessly in love. It wasn’t like they’d never faced hardship, but they always worked through it together and came out the other side stronger. Those two were relationship goals. “And he runs Mulligan’s Firewood, of course. Which isn’t a full-time job, but it brings him joy and income. He’s only sixty-seven.”
“And you work with him.” It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway.
“Yeah. I did the whole desk job thing when I first got out of college. Marketing. I was a social media grunt for a large company. But I hated everything about it and it only lasted a year. I came home and started working for dad, first as his apprentice and then when he decided to retire and just deal with firewood, I followed him there.”
Charlie trailed behind me and when I picked up a couple of boards, he did the same. “Where did you go to college?”
“SUNY Plattsburgh. So not far. But then I worked in Syracuse for the year. It’s a decent city, I guess. But I like it here better.”
“Yeah, I like it here too,” Charlie said, almost to himself.
“Good.” I gestured with the boards. “This porch isn’t going to build itself, eh?”
Charlie shook his head, as though he was clearing it. “Lead the way.”
It had taken us longer than I expected to get the joists in. Mostly because we kept stopping to trade stories. He had me in stitches when he was explaining about Marlie’s recent hyperfocus about dogs, and how serious she was when talking about them. I shared the story about how Regan went through a vampire phase in middle school, and how they were convinced they were actually a blood sucking monster. Regan had always had a fascination with the paranormal.
“Explains the cupcake names now,” Charlie said.
“It’s true. But it’s fun.”
“I’m going to have to try the Vampire’s Bite for sure now.”
“I’ll bring you one tomorrow instead of the Unicorn Fart, if you want.”
Charlie’s eyes went soft. “Teague, you don’t have to—”
I pulled the trigger on the power drill twice in quick succession, holding it up. I wasn’t even going to let him finish that thought. “You wanna try this?”
Charlie snorted. “I’ll leave the screwing to you.” His eyes went wide, and a blush colored his cheeks. “I mean, uh, you can do that part.”
It might have been accidental, but that was definitely innuendo. Part of me wanted to tease, but I liked this open and joking Charlie a hell of a lot more. So, I let it go, shrugging like it was no big deal. I screwed in the board, then moved to the next one and did it again.
“And that’s that. The frame is done.” I threw my hands in the air and cheered, trying to make it sound like a crowd going wild. I didn’t entirely succeed, but Charlie laughed, a deep one that came up from his toes, so it was a win. “We can do the decking part tomorrow. Or I can, if you have to do other work.”
“I can help.”
My smile was so wide my cheeks hurt. “Awesome. Okay, let’s get this stuff stowed and then we can finish the lemonade.”
We made quick work of cleaning up the job site and putting all the tools back in the truck bed. Then Charlie poured us both glasses of lemonade and we sat on the tailgate, taking in the beautiful sight of the pond surrounded by trees.
“Oak said you’re from Arizona?”
Charlie nodded but the movement was jerky. He pulled up his legs, but with a glance down, immediately changed position so his legs were once again hanging over the side. I clocked it but wasn’t sure what it meant. Was he uncomfortable mentally or physically?
“And you came here just to work for Nic?” I knew they were longtime friends. Oak mentioned it, but there was no doubt considering how protective she was of him.
“I, um.” Charlie cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his stomach. The way he was holding himself was almost like he was cold, as he was trying to wrap his arms up. But it had to be at least in the high 70s still, so I knew that couldn’t be it. “I needed a change before…I really needed a change.”
It clicked, like a light switch going off in my brain. It wasn’t physical, it was mental. He was trying to cover up. I hopped off the tailgate with lightning speed, opened the cab, and grabbed my red flannel shirt. I desperately didn’t want him to leave, to go back inside, or to retreat in his brain. We’d had such a good day, and I wanted to keep that going.
Without a word, I handed him the shirt, carefully keeping my gaze fixed on the pond. After a few seconds, he took it and out of my peripheral I watched him pull it on. It was big on him—I was a lot wider in the shoulders and a bit taller—so it swallowed him. But as he pulled the cuffs down over his hands and crossed the front over his chest, I could immediately tell he felt better.
“For what it’s worth,” I said softly, keeping my tone quiet and reverent. “I’m glad you needed the change. I’m glad you’re here.”
Charlie twitched, and I wondered just how big an impact my word choice had. I wanted to ask because his tone had implied something I didn’t want to think about. Instead, I stayed quiet, and together we watched the wind ruffle the leaves and the occasional ripple on the pond.