Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
“You made a whole roast? You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.
” Shannon stared at the spread on the kitchen counter.
When Dante had said he’d cook dinner, he thought Dante meant a little simple something.
He’d gotten in and gotten changed into sweats, even though he needed to get his ass into gear and find a gym and get back into some kind of routine.
He should’ve gotten home, as he was calling it because it was his homebase at the moment, and gone for a run or something. Instead, he’d been presented with a slow-cooked roast beef with potatoes and steamed beans and stuff. His ex would have never… Too much fat, too much meat, too much effort.
It hadn’t been like that at the start; his ex had been quite good at throwing together salads and cooking both tofu and meat, usually chicken for Shannon.
As with everything else, Shannon didn’t remember when that had stopped.
Maybe around the time he refused to cook meat, so Shannon started doing it, and then he’d ended up doing most of the cooking, or they got takeout.
“It’s easy to roast a lump of beef, and it will do several dinners, so it’s actually less work for me. Plus, I know you’re happy to eat leftovers ‘cause you meal-prepped a bunch of lunches.”
“Only assholes don’t eat leftovers, and that’s because they prefer the taste of your sweat.”
“That’s a brutal assessment.”
“It was something my mother said. I think it was to remind my sisters not to marry a guy who won’t eat leftovers.
I should’ve paid more attention. On the flip side, though, it meant I always had lunch the next day.
” And maybe it was his upbringing, but he sure as shit wasn’t throwing out perfectly good food.
His mother knew how to make every meal stretch for when they were between jobs.
“Your mother and mine sound like they had some things in common. When she did a roast, it was expected to last two days. Of course, when it’s just me, it lasts a bit longer.
” Dante stared at the beef as if remembering dinner with his family.
“It’s always nice to have someone to share it with.
” But his smile was strained as if it was about to break.
“Why don’t I set the table?”
Dante pointed to a couple of plates and some silverware on the counter. “It’s a serve yourself here and take your plate to the table situation, very informal.” He stepped back and indicated for Shannon to go first.
“You did the cooking.”
“You’re the guest. And if I did a bad job, I’ll be able to see if you die.”
Shannon laughed. “Ah, so you are a secret serial killer. That’s why you live all the way out here.”
“I’m pretty sure that if there were a serial killer in Foggy Basin, the local gossip would have it solved within twenty-four hours. There’s no such thing as secrets here.”
Shannon loaded his plate up with meat and vegetables and poured gravy on top. He was almost sure his mother had never cooked such a large piece of meat, even when serving her four teenage kids.
He sat at the table and waited for Dante to join him. Dante’s plate made his seem tiny by comparison. “Thank you for cooking. I will cook dinner before I switch to nights.”
He was renting a room, not paying for a private chef.
They ate in silence for several minutes. While he wouldn’t have described it as tasty, the meat was tender, and with a bit of extra salt and pepper, it was fine.
“Is there a gym in town? I need to stop treating the move like a holiday.” He did not want to be struggling to heft equipment and people around; plus, he liked to look good.
“Probably, but I’ve never used it.”
“Because banging metal is enough of a workout?” If that’s what it took to get such impressive arms, he needed to reconsider his workout.
“Ha!” It wasn’t a real laugh, more of a snort of amusement. “You need muscles to bang metal all day. I have a setup in the garage.” He paused and considered Shannon. “You can use it while you’re here.”
He’d seen the garage tucked beneath the house where the land sloped away and assumed it was used for storage given that Dante’s truck was parked near the workshop.
“That’s a very generous offer, but I will need to find the gym eventually.”
“It’s fine. I’m in there about four times a week, and I’m the only one using it, so you’re not going to be queuing for machines. Just wipe everything down with the wipes in there when you’re done.”
Shannon put his hand over his heart. “Do you think I’m some kind of monster?”
“It’s hard to tell by looking, and I have lived with some feral bugs. Guys who wore their socks four days straight then left them in the corner of the room and wondered why they never had socks. Or the one who decided to quit deodorant and stopped using soap because he wanted to be natural.”
Shannon grimaced. “How long did that last?”
“A week, then we manhandled him into the showers and doused him in shower gel. I half expected to see you in scrubs or a uniform or something.”
“Ew no, I shower at work before I leave, and the uniform gets washed there. You do not want me bringing that back here. After a bad day, I’m a biohazard.
” The worst part of a bad day was then having to clean out the ambulance before going home.
Sometimes one shower wasn’t enough, so he came home and had another one.
“That makes sense. Mom used to do much the same. I guess I just thought you’d be sitting at the front driving around.”
“Only for patient transfers; they’re usually pretty tidy. Accidents and other incidents, not so much. So far, it’s been much less hectic here, which is what I wanted, but also a change of pace I need to adapt to.”
“Like going from the freeway to a rural road?”
“Yeah, I need to learn how to slow down and breathe again instead of lurching from a crisis at work to a crisis at home…” He’d been living like that for so long that he felt as if he were forgetting something or that there was something he needed to do.
Dante nodded. “It’s the whiplash of going from a war zone to being back home.”
Shannon nodded, figuring it was much the same except the people he dealt with hadn’t signed up to be involved in five-car pileups or dragged out of burning buildings, and they were just the big events.
Then there were the hundreds of tiny accidents that people didn’t see coming even though most of them were preventable.
The family that didn’t put rails in for grandpa, so he split his head in the bath.
The burn from boiling water, the heart attack symptoms ignored until it was too late.
He knew people ignored them because he’s seen both his parents do the same on more than one occasion because they couldn’t afford the trip to emergency or they had no insurance.
Last time his father was cleaning the gutters, he’d come off the ladder and hurt himself pretty bad.
He’d waited five hours for Shannon to get off work and come round and check him out.
He should’ve gone to hospital, but he hadn’t because he figured that he’d waited five hours and hadn’t lost consciousness and nothing was sticking out or into him.
Guilt nibbled at Shannon. Who was going to be there to help now?
“I thought about quitting at one point, but I don’t know what else I’d do, and I like my job. Which makes me some kind of masochist.”
Dante shook his head. “No…you like helping people. You’ve just forgotten how to look after yourself.”
“I just need a massage and a trip to the day spa for self-care,” he said in a voice mimicking his ex.”
Dante lifted his eyebrows. “I find bashing steel into shape much more effective… have you ever tried it?”
“No. I usually take off on my bike. Then it’s just me and the road until I find a nice place to stop, and then I stare at the horizon for an unreasonably long time. You ever done that?”
“Not on a bike. But I have stared at the sky contemplating my life.” Dante was silent for several ominous heartbeats that needed no explanation. “I’m much better doing something. Invitation’s open if you want to take some stress out on steel.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Maybe he should make a knife as a memento of moving to Foggy Basin. “I will need a chopping board for when I move out.”
Dante laughed. “I can show you how to make one of them too.”
“You should know I have never used a power tool in my entire life.”
“That’s okay, plenty of the people who do my workshops have never even touched a power tool.
You’d be surprised how many divorced women come out for the weekend and discover that they are stronger and more capable than anyone allowed them to be.
I now run a special women’s-only weekend every quarter, and it always books out. ”
“Are the rest of them mostly men?”
Dante nodded. “Mostly, but I also do one-day private events. I have a hens day booked in next month. My only requirement for that is there is absolutely no drinking and no dresses. I also get a few companies doing small team-building exercises.”
Making knives obviously paid enough to keep him in house and chunks of beef.
“If you’re done, I’ll show you the gym.”
“Thank you.” They spent a few minutes cleaning up and putting the leftovers away before Dante led him outside and down the stairs to a green door beneath the house.
He unlocked it and turned on the light. The fluoros flickered to life, lighting up the space.
The garage was pretty much directly under the kitchen, and there was room for two cars and a workbench, but the entire space was taken up by gym equipment, including mats on the floor.
It was a proper setup, the kind that, at a quick glance, cost thousands.
“Wow.” It was not what he had been expecting. He’d expected to see some free weights, a treadmill or stationary bike, maybe a pull-up bar.
While there was a stationary bike and a pull-up bar, there were also several machines so Dante could get a full-body workout without leaving home.
The only thing missing was the wall of floor-to-ceiling mirrors; instead, there were two of the kind that was normally stuck to the back of doors.
Enough to check form when there was only one person using the gym.
“This is a very sweet setup.”
“I didn’t need all of it for rehab, but it certainly helped.” Dante tapped his head.
How many hours has Dante spent in his garage rebuilding his strength as well as himself after losing everything?
“It won’t bother you if I’m in here before work?” He would much rather go to the gym before work than after, given that his days were so unpredictable.
“Unless you lug the dumbbells over there and start dropping them on the concrete, I doubt I’ll hear anything. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to be up at three in the morning?”
“Nooo, not that early. And when I’m on nights, it’ll be in the afternoon.”
“Trust me, you’ll be more pissed off with the noise coming from the workshop than I will be hearing the gym in use.”
“In that case, I might reset my alarm and do my first workout in about three weeks tomorrow morning.” He’d keep it simple and knock back the weights, so he didn’t kill himself.
Without a spotter, he wouldn’t take any chances.
But then the gym seemed to be set up for solo use.
“If I won’t be in your way. When do you tend to use it? ”
“Usually after lunch. That way I get a solid chunk of work done in the morning. I can eat, prep for dinner, use the gym, then finish off in the workshop if I need to. Most of the time, by the time I’ve got a workout in, I’m done unless there’s errands to run in town.”
Shannon glanced at Dante in the mirror. He worked half a day. He wasn’t hustling to make anything happen. While he didn’t want to pry about his finances, it was clear Dante wasn’t struggling. Perhaps the house had been paid off when he inherited it, or his parents had a bit of life insurance…
He couldn’t imagine what it was like to be that financially secure.
That had been another reason to move—housing was cheaper in Foggy Basin than LA, and if he wasn’t supporting a partner, it meant everything he earned was for him.
He should be able to pay off his car and then if he liked living in Foggy Basin, maybe he could buy a house…
something he’d never considered before moving.
He’d lived in numerous rental properties growing up and had always been able to tell when his parents were doing well by the quality of the house and the neighborhood.
When the house was halfway to falling down, his father had put in the work to make sure it stayed together.
Shannon didn’t know if they got reduced rent for helping fix it up or if it was something his father had done off his own back.
He knew his parents would never consider leaving LA, and that he’d broken some kind of unspoken family rule.
He would not return like a kicked dog the way they expected.
The longer he stood there, the more certain he was that he’d made the right decision.
Dante glanced at him. “Do you need anything explained, or are you familiar with everything?”
“I think I’ll be right.”
Dante pointed to the shelves. “Wipes and towels are over there.”
“You keep towels down here?”
“Yeah, I don’t want to bring down my bath towel.
Just make sure you bring it upstairs and wash it with your laundry.
The only thing not down here is water, so make sure you bring a bottle, though there is a tap just outside.
And if the weather is nice, you can roll up the door.
” He pointed at the roller door. “Just remember to put it down and lock it.”
“Will do.” Though he couldn’t imagine opening the door first thing in the morning… in the afternoon, maybe. It might be nice to work out while watching the trees.
Dante’s gaze caught his in the mirror. For a heartbeat, neither of them looked away. His pulse quickened, and his lips curved. It would be nicer to work out and watch Dante, but that was dangerous ground neither of them wanted to tread.