Chapter 3 Hidden Damage
Behind the Walls
By the third morning, Mason's truck had become part of Liam's routine.
He noticed the sound of the engine before he even looked out the window. The familiar vehicle rolled into the driveway through another curtain of rain, parking in nearly the same spot it had occupied for the past two days.
Liam shouldn't have been waiting for it.
He definitely shouldn't have been standing near the front window pretending to organize books while secretly watching for its arrival.
Yet somehow that was exactly what he had been doing.
The realization made him shake his head at himself.
This was getting ridiculous.
Mason was here to repair plumbing.
Nothing more.
Unfortunately, reminding himself of that fact wasn't nearly as effective as it should have been.
A knock sounded at the front door.
Liam crossed the hallway and opened it.
Cool morning air drifted inside.
"Morning."
Mason stood on the porch holding a travel mug in one hand and a tool bag in the other.
Something about seeing him there instantly made the house feel less empty.
"Morning."
Mason stepped inside.
The rain had dampened the shoulders of his dark work jacket.
His hair looked slightly wet.
Liam noticed both details immediately and wished he hadn't.
"Ready for bad news?" Mason asked.
Liam sighed dramatically.
"Absolutely not."
"Good."
Mason's mouth twitched.
"That means you're prepared."
Liam laughed despite himself.
The sound seemed to follow them into the kitchen.
Over the past few days, conversation had become easier.
Less awkward.
Less formal.
The nervousness Liam felt around Mason still existed, but it no longer controlled every interaction.
At least not every interaction.
Sometimes it was impossible to ignore.
Especially when Mason smiled.
Or laughed.
Or rolled up his sleeves while working.
Not that Liam paid attention to those things.
Much.
Mason set down his equipment.
"Today we're opening a few sections of wall."
Liam looked toward the damaged kitchen area.
"That sounds expensive."
"It might be."
The blunt honesty earned an immediate groan.
Mason laughed.
"I appreciate your optimism."
"I'm a realist."
"No, you're a plumber."
"Same thing."
The exchange earned another laugh from Liam.
For some reason, mornings felt easier now.
Lighter.
Mason grabbed several tools and headed toward the section of wall that had shown the worst moisture readings.
Liam followed automatically.
"What exactly are we looking for?"
"Damage."
"Helpful."
Mason glanced over his shoulder.
"You're learning."
Liam smiled.
That happened more often around Mason than it used to.
The realization lingered while he watched the older man work.
Within minutes, sections of drywall had been carefully removed.
The results were worse than either of them hoped.
Dark stains spread across wooden supports hidden behind the wall.
Moisture had clearly been accumulating for months.
Maybe longer.
Liam stared at the exposed structure.
"I had no idea."
"Most people don't."
Mason examined the damage carefully.
"The problem with water is that it likes hiding."
The statement sounded oddly serious.
Liam glanced toward him.
"You make plumbing sound philosophical."
Mason shrugged.
"Water causes damage slowly."
His gaze remained on the exposed wall.
"You usually don't notice until something breaks."
For some reason, the words stuck with Liam.
Maybe because they reminded him of other things.
Other people.
His ex had been like that.
The damage hadn't happened all at once.
It had happened slowly.
A criticism here.
An insult there.
A comment disguised as a joke.
By the time Liam realized how much confidence he'd lost, the relationship was already falling apart.
Water damage.
Emotional damage.
Neither announced itself immediately.
Both hid behind walls.
The thought lingered longer than he wanted.
Fortunately, Mason interrupted it.
"Can you hand me that flashlight?"
Liam immediately reached for the tool.
"Here."
Their fingers brushed briefly.
The contact lasted less than a second.
Still, awareness flickered between them.
Subtle.
Impossible to miss.
Mason looked away first.
Liam pretended nothing had happened.
The strategy worked exactly as poorly as expected.
By midday, they had moved beyond the kitchen.
The inspection expanded into hallways, storage spaces, and sections of flooring.
Every new discovery seemed to reveal another hidden problem.
At one point, Mason removed a damaged section of trim near the dining room.
The wood practically crumbled in his hands.
Liam winced.
"That can't be good."
"It isn't."
"Please stop confirming my fears."
Mason laughed.
"No promises."
Despite the damage, Liam found himself genuinely interested in the repair process.
He'd never paid attention to how houses worked before.
Walls were walls.
Floors were floors.
Pipes existed somewhere behind everything.
That was the extent of his knowledge.
Now he was learning things every hour.
Not because he needed to.
Because he wanted to.
"Why are older houses more likely to have problems?" he asked while following Mason into another room.
"Wear."
"Just age?"
"Mostly."
Mason adjusted a moisture meter.
"Everything breaks eventually."
The answer sounded simple.
But there was something honest about it.
Something real.
No complicated explanation.
No unnecessary details.
Just truth.
Liam liked that about him.
The thought arrived unexpectedly.
He quickly focused on the damaged floor instead.
Safer territory.
Much safer.
The afternoon passed quickly.
At one point they stopped for coffee.
Later they shared sandwiches while sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by tools and repair estimates.
The entire situation should have felt strange.
Instead, it felt surprisingly normal.
Comfortable.
Like Mason belonged there.
The realization startled Liam enough that he nearly dropped his drink.
Definitely dangerous territory.
His friend Emma would have a field day with this situation.
Actually, she'd probably never stop teasing him.
The thought made him smile.
"What?"
Mason looked up from his notes.
"Hm?"
"You smiled."
Liam immediately regretted smiling.
"Nothing."
"Sure."
Mason sounded unconvinced.
Liam ignored him.
Mostly because explaining that he'd imagined his best friend's reaction to having a crush on a plumber seemed like a terrible idea.
Especially when said plumber was sitting directly across from him.
By late afternoon, they moved toward the rear hallway connecting several rooms.
The space was narrow.
Far narrower than Liam remembered.
Mason needed to inspect an area showing signs of moisture beneath the floorboards.
Naturally, Liam followed.
The hallway barely allowed enough room for one person.
Two was pushing it.
Mason crouched near the floor.
Liam stood behind him holding a flashlight.
"Little closer."
The words seemed innocent enough.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much room available.
Liam stepped forward.
Immediately aware of how close they suddenly were.
Mason's shoulders nearly brushed his chest.
The scent of soap and rain lingered faintly in the air.
Combined with something uniquely Mason.
Something warm.
Something masculine.
Liam's pulse quickened.
He focused aggressively on the flashlight.
Safer.
Definitely safer.
"Can you angle that lower?"
Liam adjusted the light.
Their shoulders touched.
Briefly.
Accidentally.
Neither commented.
The silence that followed felt strangely heavy.
Not uncomfortable.
Just noticeable.
Every movement suddenly seemed magnified.
Every breath.
Every shift in position.
Every point of contact.
Mason eventually stood.
The hallway immediately felt even smaller.
For one impossible moment, neither of them moved.
Liam became painfully aware of the size difference between them.
Mason was taller.
Broader.
Close enough that Liam had to tilt his head slightly upward.
The awareness struck hard and fast.
Then Mason stepped aside.
The moment disappeared.
At least externally.
Internally, Liam wasn't nearly so lucky.
His pulse refused to settle.
His thoughts refused to cooperate.
And the growing attraction he'd spent days trying to ignore became significantly harder to dismiss.
The rest of the afternoon passed without incident.
Eventually Mason packed away his tools.
The familiar end-of-day routine began.
"Same time tomorrow?" Liam asked.
The question escaped before he could stop himself.
Mason glanced up.
"Planning around my schedule now?"
Heat immediately rushed into Liam's face.
"I meant for the repairs."
"Sure you did."
The teasing tone made things infinitely worse.
Fortunately, Mason looked amused rather than suspicious.
"Yeah," he said.
"Same time tomorrow."
Relief appeared unexpectedly.
Liam hated how obvious it felt.
A few minutes later, Mason headed toward his truck.
Rain continued falling beyond the porch.
The sound filled the quiet neighborhood.
Liam watched from the doorway as Mason disappeared into the gray afternoon.
The truck pulled away.
The driveway emptied.
The house grew quiet again.
For the first time all day, Liam noticed the absence.
And for the first time since the repairs had started, he realized something that should have concerned him far more than it did.
He was looking forward to tomorrow.
Not because of the plumbing.
Not because of the repairs.
Not even because of the progress being made around the house.
He was looking forward to seeing Mason.
That realization followed him back inside and lingered long after the sound of the truck had disappeared.
Takeout and Truths
Mason should have gone home.
That thought crossed his mind twice during the drive back to the Carter house.
The first time happened when he stopped at a supply warehouse on the edge of town to pick up additional materials for the repairs.
The second time happened when he loaded those materials into the back of his truck and looked at the clock.
It was already after six.