Chapter 2 The Roughneck #2
The silence.
The simplicity.
After twelve hours surrounded by machinery, noise, and responsibility, coming home felt like stepping into another world.
Tonight, however, his mind wasn't as quiet as usual.
Roy's phone call kept replaying in his head.
His nephew.
The college student.
Elliot.
The name itself was ordinary enough, yet Damon found himself remembering it.
That annoyed him.
There was no reason to think about some kid he'd never even met.
Still, the thoughts lingered.
Maybe it was because new people rarely came to Willow Ridge.
Maybe it was because Roy clearly cared about the kid.
Or maybe Damon was simply tired.
Exhaustion made people think strange things.
That explanation seemed good enough.
He turned onto his street and immediately noticed a familiar pickup truck parked outside Roy's house.
The kid had arrived.
Damon slowed briefly before pulling into his own driveway.
Their houses sat only a few doors apart.
Close enough to borrow tools.
Close enough to help with emergencies.
Close enough that avoiding Roy's nephew might actually require effort.
Damon snorted at the thought.
He was a grown man.
Avoiding someone wasn't exactly difficult.
He grabbed his lunchbox from the passenger seat and climbed out.
The evening air felt cooler than it had during the day. A welcome breeze moved through the neighborhood, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass.
His muscles protested every step as he headed toward the front porch.
Getting older was becoming increasingly annoying.
Just as he reached his front door, a loud metallic clatter echoed nearby.
Damon looked up.
The sound had come from Roy's house.
Specifically, from the front porch.
His gaze immediately found the source.
A slim young man stood balanced on a small step stool beneath the porch light.
The stool looked unstable.
The young man looked even less stable.
Damon watched as he stretched upward while trying to remove the light cover.
The movement caused the stool to wobble dangerously.
The kid muttered something under his breath.
A screwdriver slipped from his hand.
It hit the porch floor with another loud clang.
Damon closed his eyes briefly.
Of course.
The second Roy's nephew arrived, he was already trying to injure himself.
The kid climbed down and bent to retrieve the screwdriver.
When he straightened, Damon got his first proper look at him.
Young.
Much younger than Damon had expected.
Twenty-one suddenly felt very different when standing in front of him.
Dark blond hair brushed his forehead.
Soft features made him appear approachable.
Friendly.
Nothing about him looked particularly tough.
An oversized T-shirt hung loosely from his frame, and paint smudges stained one sleeve.
Art student.
That part suddenly made sense.
The kid looked more like someone who spent afternoons in museums than someone who belonged in an oil town.
As if sensing he was being watched, Elliot glanced across the yard.
Their eyes met.
Recognition flashed briefly across the younger man's face.
Damon realized with mild surprise that this was the same person he'd seen standing outside the garage earlier.
The one who had stared at him.
Not in a rude way.
More like curiosity.
At the time, Damon hadn't thought much about it.
Now he knew why the face seemed familiar.
Roy's nephew.
Elliot offered a hesitant smile.
"Hey."
Damon nodded once.
"Evening."
The conversation could have ended there.
Probably should have.
Instead, Elliot looked up at the porch light and sighed dramatically.
"I think this thing hates me."
Damon followed his gaze.
The fixture flickered weakly before going dark again.
"What happened?"
"I was trying to replace the bulb."
"And?"
"I may have made it worse."
The admission sounded so sincere that Damon nearly laughed.
Nearly.
"You may have?"
"Okay. I definitely made it worse."
That did it.
A short laugh escaped before Damon could stop it.
Elliot looked pleased.
As though making him laugh counted as an accomplishment.
The reaction was oddly disarming.
Damon shoved the feeling aside.
"You turn off the breaker first?"
Elliot blinked.
"No."
"Thought so."
"Was I supposed to?"
Damon stared at him.
The kid actually seemed serious.
"You don't mess with electrical wiring while the power's on."
"Oh."
A pause followed.
"That seems obvious now."
Damon rubbed a hand across his face.
Roy was going to have a heart attack within a month.
"Move."
Elliot immediately stepped aside.
"What?"
"Move."
The younger man obeyed without argument.
Damon crossed the yard and climbed onto the porch.
Up close, he could see more details.
The paint stains.
The faint freckles scattered across Elliot's nose.
The sketchbook tucked beneath one arm.
The fact that his eyes weren't brown like Damon initially thought.
They were hazel.
An unusual shade that shifted between green and gold depending on the light.
Damon frowned.
Why was he noticing that?
He turned his attention to the light fixture.
The problem became obvious within seconds.
The wiring connection had loosened.
Nothing serious.
Nothing expensive.
Just enough to stop the fixture from working properly.
"You really did make it worse."
Elliot groaned.
"Thank you for confirming."
"Anytime."
"You're very supportive."
The dry response caught Damon off guard.
A smile tugged briefly at the corner of his mouth.
Interesting.
The kid had more attitude than expected.
A few minutes later, Damon located the problem and fixed the connection.
The porch light immediately sprang to life.
Warm yellow light illuminated the entire entryway.
"There."
Elliot stared upward.
"It works."
"That's generally the goal."
"You make it look easy."
"It is easy."
"Not for everyone."
That was clearly true.
Damon climbed down from the stool.
The younger man looked genuinely impressed.
As though Damon had performed some incredible feat rather than basic maintenance.
The reaction felt strangely satisfying.
Which was ridiculous.
He worked on machinery worth millions of dollars.
A porch light wasn't exactly impressive.
Still, Elliot's gratitude appeared completely genuine.
"Thanks," the younger man said.
"Don't mention it."
"I mean it."
Damon nodded.
The conversation should have ended there.
Yet neither of them moved.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable exactly.
Just unexpected.
For the first time, Damon studied Roy's nephew properly.
The kid looked tired.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
As if carrying burdens he didn't quite know how to set down.
The observation surprised him.
Most people overlooked things like that.
Years of watching workers had taught Damon otherwise.
Pain left traces.
Sometimes visible.
Sometimes not.
Something about Elliot suggested loneliness.
The thought arrived unexpectedly.
And lingered.
"So," Elliot said, breaking the silence. "You're Damon Blackwell."
There it was.
Damon almost rolled his eyes.
"That's me."
The younger man hesitated.
Clearly debating whether to say something.
"What?"
Elliot looked embarrassed.
"Nothing."
"What?"
"It's just..."
The hesitation returned.
Damon waited.
Finally, Elliot sighed.
"Everybody talks about you."
Of course they did.
Damon laughed without humor.
"That sounds about right."
"No, I mean everybody."
"I'm aware."
Elliot shifted awkwardly.
"They all seem to have opinions."
"Most of them do."
The younger man studied him for a second.
"You don't seem dangerous."
Damon barked out a surprised laugh.
Dangerous.
That was a new one.
"Give it time."
Elliot smiled.
The expression transformed his entire face.
Open.
Warm.
Honest.
The kind of smile that belonged on someone much younger than the things Damon suspected life had already put him through.
Something tightened unexpectedly in his chest.
A brief unfamiliar feeling.
Gone almost immediately.
Good.
Because he didn't need unfamiliar feelings.
Especially involving Roy's nephew.
"You should probably stop listening to gossip," Damon said.
"I'm trying."
"Smart choice."
The younger man nodded.
Then he held out a hand.
The simple gesture caught Damon off guard.
"I'm Elliot."
As if they hadn't already established that.
As if introductions mattered.
Still, refusing would be rude.
Damon reached out automatically.
Their hands met.
For one brief second, skin touched skin.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing significant.
A handshake.
That's all.
Yet the instant contact happened, something sharp and unexpected shot through Damon.
Not pain.
Not exactly surprise.
More like awareness.
A sudden electric jolt that traveled straight through him.
His breath caught.
The sensation vanished almost immediately.
But not before he felt it.
Strong.
Unmistakable.
Wrong.
Damon released Elliot's hand faster than necessary.
The younger man didn't appear to notice.
Thank God.
Because Damon definitely noticed.
And he had absolutely no explanation for it.
He took a step back.
Then another.
Creating distance.
The smartest thing he'd done all evening.
"See you around, kid."
Elliot smiled again.
"See you around."
Damon turned toward his house.
He could feel Elliot watching him leave.
For some reason, that awareness only made the strange feeling worse.
By the time he reached his front door, he was already annoyed with himself.
It had been a long day.
That was all.
Exhaustion.
Nothing more.
Yet as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, one thought lingered stubbornly in the back of his mind.
Roy had warned him to stay away from Elliot Hayes.
For the first time since receiving that warning, Damon understood why following it might be more difficult than he expected.
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