Chapter 2 Tool Belt and Timid Eyes #2
Liam stood there wearing a dark green sweater and faded jeans. His hair looked slightly messy, as though he'd run his fingers through it several times already.
For some reason, the sight made the house feel less empty.
Mason immediately pushed that thought aside.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Liam smiled.
The expression was small.
Natural.
Not forced.
It did something strange to the atmosphere between them.
"You made it through the night without destroying any plumbing?" Mason asked.
Liam laughed.
"Barely."
"Good."
That earned another smile.
Mason stepped inside.
The familiar smell of coffee greeted him almost immediately.
A fresh pot sat on the kitchen counter.
Whether Liam intended it for both of them or not, Mason wasn't sure.
He found himself hoping it was.
That realization annoyed him too.
He had a job to do.
Nothing more.
The sooner he remembered that, the better.
For the next hour, Mason focused entirely on work.
The inspection revealed exactly what he'd expected.
Water damage had been developing inside the walls for months.
Possibly longer.
Several pipe connections showed signs of corrosion.
Moisture readings were elevated throughout portions of the first floor.
The burst pipe hadn't created the problem.
It had simply exposed it.
Liam followed him from room to room carrying a notepad.
Most homeowners either hovered nervously or disappeared completely once repairs began.
Liam did neither.
Instead, he paid attention.
Actual attention.
Every time Mason explained something, Liam listened carefully.
Every recommendation ended up written down.
Every technical term generated another question.
At first Mason assumed the curiosity would fade.
It didn't.
If anything, it grew stronger.
"What causes corrosion like that?" Liam asked while they stood in the laundry room.
Mason pointed toward an aging section of pipe.
"Time. Water quality. Wear and tear."
"So basically everything."
"Pretty much."
Liam scribbled another note.
"You write everything down?"
"You'd be surprised how quickly I forget things."
Mason snorted.
"You've got three pages already."
"Exactly."
The answer made him laugh despite himself.
A few years ago, he would have found the constant questions annoying.
Now he found them refreshing.
Most people wanted quick answers.
Liam wanted understanding.
The difference mattered.
As they moved through the house, Mason found himself noticing details he hadn't paid attention to before.
Books.
There were books everywhere.
Books on shelves.
Books stacked beside chairs.
Books piled on tables.
One entire wall in the living room had been converted into a library.
"You actually read all these?"
Liam glanced up from his notes.
"Most of them."
Mason stared.
"There have to be hundreds."
"Probably."
"Why?"
The question escaped before he could stop it.
Liam laughed.
"That's exactly what my father says."
"Seriously."
Liam considered the question.
Then his expression softened.
"I don't know. I guess I like stories."
"More than movies?"
"Way more."
Mason shook his head.
"You're definitely a literature student."
"That obvious?"
"A little."
Liam looked amused.
"Most plumbers don't have giant libraries."
"Fair."
The conversation lingered in Mason's thoughts longer than it should have.
There was something genuine about Liam.
Something uncomplicated.
The kid didn't seem interested in impressing anyone.
He simply liked what he liked.
Mason respected that.
Around midmorning, they moved into the basement.
The space smelled faintly of damp concrete and old wood.
Several sections required closer inspection.
Mason knelt near an exposed section of pipe while Liam crouched beside him.
Too close.
Not close enough to matter.
Close enough to notice.
"Can I ask a stupid question?" Liam said.
"There are no stupid questions."
"That's definitely not true."
Mason laughed.
"Ask anyway."
Liam pointed toward a shutoff valve.
"How do you know which direction closes it?"
Mason explained the mechanism.
The answer led to another question.
Then another.
Soon they were discussing plumbing systems in surprising detail.
Mason realized twenty minutes had passed without him noticing.
That almost never happened during inspections.
Work was usually work.
Today felt different.
Not because of the house.
Because of the company.
The realization unsettled him.
When they eventually returned upstairs, Liam headed toward the kitchen.
"You hungry?"
Mason checked the time.
It was later than he'd realized.
"Little."
"I can make sandwiches."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
Liam opened the refrigerator.
"Still offering."
The response left little room for argument.
A short while later, they sat across from each other at the dining table.
Simple sandwiches.
Coffee.
Rain tapping against the windows.
Nothing remarkable.
Yet the scene felt strangely comfortable.
Mason couldn't remember the last time lunch had felt this relaxed.
Most days involved eating alone in his truck between jobs.
Sometimes he forgot meals entirely.
Liam seemed to sense the shift.
"You work a lot, don't you?"
The question caught him off guard.
"Comes with the job."
"That's not an answer."
Mason looked up.
Liam smiled slightly.
The kid was braver than he appeared.
"Yeah," Mason admitted.
"I work a lot."
"Do you ever take days off?"
"Sometimes."
Liam raised an eyebrow.
The expression clearly said liar .
Mason laughed.
"Fine. Rarely."
"I knew it."
"How?"
"You looked guilty."
The conversation continued far longer than either of them intended.
They talked about work.
University.
Weather.
Favorite foods.
Small things.
Normal things.
The kind of conversation people had when they genuinely enjoyed each other's company.
That realization made Mason uneasy.
Not because he disliked Liam.
Quite the opposite.
Liking Liam was becoming the problem.
By late afternoon, the inspection was finally complete.
The news wasn't ideal.
Several repairs would be necessary.
Nothing catastrophic.
Nothing that couldn't be fixed.
But definitely more than a one-day project.
Mason organized his notes while Liam stood nearby.
"So how bad is it?"
The question carried obvious concern.
Mason chose honesty.
"It could be worse."
Liam groaned.
"That's never a good sign."
"No."
Mason smiled.
"It's really not."
Then he explained everything.
The damaged sections.
The timeline.
The expected repairs.
The materials needed.
Liam listened carefully.
By the end, he looked overwhelmed but determined.
Not defeated.
Determined.
Again, Mason found himself respecting that.
Most people would have complained.
Liam simply asked what came next.
"I'll start repairs tomorrow."
Liam nodded.
"Okay."
"We'll tackle it one section at a time."
Another nod.
The anxiety remained.
But so did the determination.
Eventually Mason gathered his tools.
The workday was over.
At least this one.
He headed toward the front door.
Liam followed.
"Thanks."
The simple words stopped him.
"For what?"
"For explaining everything."
The answer seemed sincere.
"Most people talk to me like I won't understand."
Mason studied him for a moment.
"You ask good questions."
A faint blush touched Liam's cheeks.
The reaction caught Mason completely off guard.
For a second neither of them spoke.
Then Liam looked away.
"See you tomorrow."
"Yeah."
Mason stepped outside.
Rain immediately greeted him again.
The drive home should have been routine.
Instead, his thoughts kept drifting back toward the house.
Toward Liam.
Toward their conversations.
The questions.
The laughter.
The way Liam listened when people spoke.
The way he genuinely cared about understanding things.
Mason turned on the windshield wipers.
Rain swept across the glass.
Normally he forgot customers almost immediately after leaving a job.
It was part of the profession.
People came and went.
Houses came and went.
Repairs came and went.
This one should have been no different.
Liam should have been no different.
Yet somewhere between the flooded kitchen and today's inspection, the job had started feeling less routine.
That wasn't good.
Not for several reasons.
The age difference alone should have been enough to stop whatever nonsense was trying to form in his head.
Liam was a college student.
Mason was thirty-four.
They existed in completely different stages of life.
Besides, Liam was a customer.
Nothing more.
That should have settled the matter.
It almost did.
Almost.
As Mason drove through the rain-dark streets toward home, he found himself replaying one particular moment.
Liam laughing over lunch.
Relaxed.
Happy.
Unguarded.
The memory lingered longer than it should have.
Mason tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Temporary.
That was all this was.
A few weeks of repairs.
A little too much time spent in the same house.
Once the job ended, everything would return to normal.
That was the sensible explanation.
The professional explanation.
The correct explanation.
Unfortunately, as the miles passed beneath his truck and rain continued falling across Oregon, Mason wasn't entirely convinced.
And that bothered him far more than he wanted to admit.
,
· ? ·