Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Gio took a swig of his beer, aware that the smile hadn’t slid off his face pretty much since he and Rafe had decided to become roommates and business partners.
They’d hashed out the particulars with a lawyer this morning and once the contract was written, they would sign.
He’d been chomping at the bit to begin work, something Rafe had noticed.
Since the deal was as good as made, they’d decided to just go ahead and get started. Gio had given his landlord notice.
He’d already spent the past two weeks sorting through his stuff—even though Rafe gave him shit for putting the horse before the cart. Since they were moving forward, now all he had to do was decide what to take to the mansion, what to pitch, what to sell, and what to move into storage.
“Everything ready for the move next weekend?” Rafe asked, absentmindedly petting Cricket, who was dozing on his lap.
“Yep. I’ve recruited the guys, who’ve all agreed to the standard arrangement. Beer, pizza, and strained muscles.”
“Maybe we should make a full weekend of it, and they can help me clear some shit out my townhouse as well,” Rafe said. “I’m trying to decide if I want to put it on the market or rent it out. No point in it sitting empty, since we’ll be living in the haunted mansion for God only knows how long.”
“You might sell it?”
Rafe shrugged. “I’ve gotten kind of used to living away from the hubbub of the city, and I’m not looking forward to dealing with my loud neighbors again.
I swear to God I could hear every single one of their fights through the wall connecting our townhouses.
I’ve gotten spoiled by the quiet of this place.
There’s a caretaker’s cottage behind the mansion.
I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ll move in there once the inn is ready to open.
Or fuck it, I might just buy a proper house with a bit of land.
I’ve got some money to play with these days,” he said with a wink.
“You’ve got a lot of money to play with, you rich bastard. And a new, practical-sized house sounds nice. Of course, we might have to spring for a few buckets of chicken too, if we try to talk the guys into moving two houses’ worth of shit,” Gio said.
Gio and Rafe had helped pretty much every other guy in their group of friends move into their current homes—always paid in beer and pizza—but they’d never done a two-fer.
This house of Rafe’s grandpa had been cold and dark for too long, and he was looking forward to bringing a little life to the place.
While he knew it was just a temporary living situation for both of them, Gio couldn’t help but shake the idea that this change was just the start of many.
He was pushing thirty-three, and lately, he’d been starting to feel like he had fuck-all to show for his life.
He was committed to the family business and proud of all they’d accomplished, but there was a large part of him that still longed for something more, something that was his own.
Taking on the mansion renovation project and investing in a new business fueled his creative juices and got his blood pumping.
But he was hoping to change more than just the professional front. His personal life needed a kick in the ass as well.
Keeley’s comment about never having a long-term boyfriend had resonated with him. Probably because he hadn’t broken her four-month streak by much. As he’d confessed, most of his relationships petered out somewhere between the six- to ten-month range, his last ending a few months ago.
He glanced to the other side of the couch and forced himself to acknowledge why the last few relationships had failed. It was because of Rafe.
Because of Gio’s desire to find not only the perfect woman for himself but also the perfect one for them.
It was a fool’s errand because the older they got, the more Gio had come to realize that Rafe was serious about never marrying.
He’d watched Rafe walk away from too many women who’d wanted commitments over the years, his emotions never once engaged.
Rafe had previously confessed that he didn’t believe himself capable of feeling love, something Gio had dismissed at the time, but now he feared it might be true.
Maybe it was time for Gio to give up the dream and strike out on his own.
Rafe clicked the remote, scrolling for something to watch but finding nothing. They’d settled on the couch a half hour earlier with their beers and planned to order Chinese delivery later.
“What the hell is the deal in this room?” Gio asked. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit in here.”
Rafe shrugged. “I have no idea. Sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it’s freezing. I’ve checked the windows and they’re airtight. Nothing to explain the change in temperature.”
“I’m surprised we can’t see our breath.”
“Blame Albert and Marta.” Rafe tried to brush it off as a joke, but Gio suspected his friend now truly believed the house was inhabited by the spirits of his grandparents.
Even Gio had to admit it was hard not to.
He didn’t even live here yet, but in the last couple weeks, he’d witnessed enough to convince him.
Doors slamming, footsteps in empty rooms, the cold drafts in windowless areas.
The funny part was, the ghosts seemed most attracted to Keeley, though none of them could decide if it was a good or bad fascination.
Regardless, it was her things constantly getting moved around.
Pens and folders from her table kept finding their way to Rafe’s desk.
One day, the jacket she swore she’d hung up on the coatrack was discovered on the couch.
And Keeley still insisted that her phone had been in her purse when she’d left for her date with Joel a couple weeks earlier.
They also seemed to get a kick out of pushing her—or so Keeley said. He and Rafe were still convinced she was just clumsy and tripping over the rugs, and Rafe had started teasing her that she needed to learn how to pick her feet up when she walked.
Gio rubbed his hands together, seeking warmth. “We’re going to have to start leaving a stack of blankets in here if they insist on playing this way.”
Rafe snorted but didn’t disagree, turning his attention back to the TV in search of a hockey game or movie they could watch. Maybe they should consider going out. Gio wasn’t in the mood to shiver all freaking evening.
They’d invited Keeley to stay in with them tonight, but she had yet another date courtesy of Tinder. Gio wished she would get off the damn dating apps once and for all.
Rafe had asked her where she was going, but unfortunately, this time she’d gotten wise to them, resolutely refusing to tell them where the guy was taking her.
“Think we should have insisted that she tell us where she was going? Doesn’t seem safe for a young woman to go out with a man she doesn’t know and not tell someone where she’s going to be,” Gio said.
“I said that to her,” Rafe replied, not in the least surprised by Gio’s abrupt topic change. “She assured me that Kayden had her location on Find My Friends, plus Liza and Gianna both know the guy’s name and where she’ll be. She’s not reckless, Gio.”
“Yeah,” he grumped, not feeling much better. He knew Keeley was smart enough not to put herself in dangerous situations, but that still left him on the outside tonight, unable to step in if she needed him…and that was starting to rub against the grain in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
“Besides, we already crashed one date. There’s no way we’d get away with pulling that again.”
“And you’re okay with not knowing where she is or if she’s safe.”
“Truthfully? Not even a little bit. But I’m better at keeping my inner caveman under control.” Rafe gave him a shit-eating grin. “Damn if she doesn’t have a knack for picking the wrong guy though.”
“Tell me about it. It took everything I had not to drag her out of Saloon when I saw her sitting with Joel. The guy is a total prick. I told Tony what he said to Keeley, and we’ve taken his family’s store off our vendor list. They’re not getting another penny from Moretti Restorations.”
Rafe’s grin widened. “I like the way you get revenge.”
“Still would have preferred to teach the guy a lesson the old-fashioned way, but Keeley needed us with her more. I didn’t like how sad she looked. Not used to seeing her without a smile on her face.”
“Same. But at least our girl has enough self-esteem not to let his cruelty stick.”
Gio nodded, though he wasn’t agreeing with Rafe’s assessment of Keeley, so much as the word our.
Unfortunately, Gio was sure Rafe wasn’t using it the way he was starting to hope they could.
“Our girl?” he asked anyway.
Rafe looked over at him and sighed. “No,” he corrected. “Not ours. Slip of the tongue. Don’t go there.”
Gio considered contradicting that statement, but he held his peace instead.
He hadn’t meant to be quite so forthright with Keeley about his thoughts regarding a threesome relationship. His sex life—well, his and Rafe’s sex life—was something they protected fiercely. No one in his family or in their circle of friends knew just how close he and Rafe really were.
Several years ago, his sister, Layla, had traveled from Baltimore to Philly with her new partners in tow.
He and Rafe had gone to dinner with her, Miguel, and Finn.
Afterwards, he and Rafe had gotten into a long, frank discussion about ménages.
They both expressed an interest in participating in one. So…they did.
Jennifer Rodriguez, a woman from Rafe’s workplace, had been putting out signals that she was attracted to him.
He’d invited her to join him and Gio for happy hour, just to test the waters.
Their desire for a ménage had come up after a few pitchers of beer, and they’d both been shocked when Jennifer agreed to try it with them.
It had been…incredible. Eye-opening. Life-changing for Gio.
They’d embarked on a month-long sex-fest, the three of them insatiable.