Home Improvement — a Love Story

by Tara Lain

  “Yep.” Gabe was enjoying the show.

  “And you’re selling it?”

  “I make furniture, Jerry. I sell it when I can. Not that many people in this part of the world can afford handmade furniture.” There, he’d warned Jerry not to expect the prices to be cheap. He’d love to have his furniture in that house, but not enough to give away his hours of work. Of course, if he didn’t give some of it away, he’d have a house full of furniture and no one but him and Ellie to enjoy it.

  Jerry gave Gabe a quick glance. “I’ll take it. How soon can you have another table?”

  “What?”

  “A table just like that, or as close as you can make it, okay?” He looked around. “What else?”

  Gabe could hardly catch his breath. “Well, I kind of brought you to see the coffee table.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “In my workshop.”

  Jerry slid his hand into Gabe’s. “Lead the way.”

  Gabe swallowed hard. While Jerry’s hand felt ridiculously good, he’d never held the hand of a man in his life, even his own father. Hell, especially his own father. But Jerry didn’t let go, so Gabe walked out of the kitchen door, across the garage, and into his workshop. Several pieces stood around the big space in various stages of creation——a small cabinet, a huge bookcase, and of course, the completed coffee table.

  Jerry let go of Gabe’s hand—kind of sad—and knelt beside the coffee table. “Wow. Just wow.”

  Gabe smiled. The table was a favorite. He’d embedded different woods into the border of the huge square table and woven it into an abstract pattern that was kind of Asian in its feeling.

  “Say I can have it.” Jerry looked up at Gabe and smiled.

  “Well, if you want—”

  “You have the card. Just put it on there, okay? And the credenza, and then make me a table, and—” His glance moved around the room. “Oh, that bookcase. I love that.”

  Gabe squatted beside Jerry. “I’d love for you to have them, but they’re kind of costly, Jerry. They take weeks, even months of handwork. I can’t sell them for too little. I mean, I can do a discount, but—”

  Jerry’s long fingers flew up and pressed against Gabe’s lips.

  Gabe gasped, his lips parted, and somehow, the tip of his tongue flicked against Jerry’s skin.

  Jerry’s multicolored eyes widened and his soft hand curled around Gabe’s cheek.

  Gabe couldn’t help it. He raised his shoulder and pressed Jerry’s fingers harder against his own face. So few people ever touched him. After all, he was a big, strong guy. Ellie hugged him, of course, but a lot less than she used to as a kid. That was natural, but it often meant he only got touched by his own hand.

  Jerry’s fingers felt so nice.

  Yeah, and he was crazy.

  Without making a big deal out of it, he slowly moved his face away and sat back, then stood. Out of harm’s way.

  For a second, Jerry gazed at him with eyes that could only be described as dewy, and then he blinked. “You have the credit card.”

  “What?” He couldn’t get his brain to focus. It was still back there where Jerry touched his lips and Gabe got a taste of heaven.

  “For the furniture. Just charge it on the card.” He got up all efficient and businesslike, and Gabe felt a loss of that other guy.

  Gabe pulled in some air. “I’ll send you a price quote—”

  “Gabe, I want the furniture. Besides, I won’t be here. Charge it. Let’s get it loaded.”

  “Uh, okay, well I can sell you my dining table and make another one for myself later. And the bookcase is almost done. But all of it won’t fit in the truck.”

  “Let’s take what we can, and I’ll hire some movers—or rather, maybe you can find some movers to manage the rest.”

  “I can get it there.”

  “Good.” He stooped and grasped the bottom of the coffee table.

  “Wait. I’ll get some packing blankets for the truck, and we should start with the credenza.”

  Jerry nodded once. The mismatched eyes that had been so soft and misty now gazed at Gabe levelly and with evaluation. Another word for evaluation was judgment. Shit.

  Gabe grabbed a couple moving blankets from the stack he kept in the corner of his shop and walked out toward the truck without looking back.

  JERRY STARED at Gabe’s retreating ass. Retreating was the active descriptor in that sentence. He ran out of here like I set said ass on fire… instead of just coveting it. Talk about mixed signals.

  He extended his hand, leaned down, and ran his fingers across the satin surface of the amazingly beautiful coffee table. It was incredibly elegant, unique, unexpected, and artistic, but at the same time strong and solid. Like Gabe.

  Gabe stuck his head in the workshop. “I’ve got the truck bed padded. Want to help me get the credenza out there?”

  Jerry nodded.

  The credenza proved to be even heavier than it looked. Good thing Gabe was like Superman, or at least Captain America. Jerry just managed to keep up his end, literally, while Gabe lifted the thing onto the truck like a champ. They followed with the coffee table.

  Gabe stepped back when they’d managed to load both pieces. “I’ll get the dining table and the bookcase over there while you’re gone, okay? I mean, if you really want all of it.”

  Jerry pressed his hands together. “I want every piece you have for sale, and I can’t wait.”

  Gabe smiled, and it flipped Jerry’s stomach. Gabe said, “Get back soon and you’ll see them.”

  Jerry looked into Gabe’s crystal-blue eyes. “I will. I promise.”

  When Gabe turned and walked to the driver’s door, Jerry ran a hand over his face. Why am I even interested in this guy? Yes, he’s attractive, but hell, so are a lot of men. When did I decide to go to the home improvement store and find a man? Am I really that desperate? Oh yeah, I better not answer that.

  Jerry walked to the passenger side and climbed in. As Gabe turned on the ignition, two teenage girls ambled toward the house on the sidewalk, talking animatedly. One of them, a pretty dark blonde, looked up, waved, and walked to the driver’s window. “Hey, Dad.”

  Gabe leaned out the window as Jerry pushed on his sunglasses. Gabe said, “Hi, honey. Just taking some furniture over to Jerry’s house. I won’t be too long.”

  “Jerry’s house? You mean….” She beamed and scrunched her head so she could see into the truck. Jerry pulled his cap down a little farther. She waved. “Hi. I’m Ellie Mason.”

  Jerry swallowed hard and waved back. “Jerry Castor.”

  “So you like my dad’s furniture?”

  “Yes, I love it, actually.” He swallowed again. “Tell him to work faster.” He smiled.

  She giggled. “You have good taste, Mr. Castor. My dad’s told me a lot about your house. From his description, I thought his furniture would look great in it.”

  He nodded. “I think so too.”

  He must have sounded nervous, because she took her focus off him and said, “Don’t hurt yourselves moving that.” She gave a little hop and said to Gabe, “So excited about the coffee table.”

  He didn’t say anything back, but she walked toward the house as he closed the window and pulled out of the driveway. He glanced at Jerry. “She just loves that coffee table. She’s excited that it will have a good home.”

  “Sh-she seems like a nice girl.”

  “The best. Amazing really. I don’t know how many kids could be born to a seventeen-year-old father and a totally mismatched set of parents and wind up so bright and well-adjusted. Jesus, she keeps me together.”

  He seemed to realize he’d said a lot because he reached out and switched on his sound system. The soaring notes of “Higher Than Heaven” by Jet Gemini filled the cab at top volume.

  Jerry glanced at Gabe, who smiled sheepishly and adjusted the sound. “Sorry. It’s my daughter’s current favorite.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve got to confess, a lot
of her music goes right by me, but I like this too.”

  Jerry smiled, the song changed, and they rode in near silence back to Ashland and his house.

  Chapter Eight

  AS THEY navigated carefully up the narrow drive in Gabe’s truck, Jerry stared at the cracked walls around the pool, the sagging wooden decks, and the overgrown landscaping. He couldn’t capture his sigh before it escaped.

  Gabe glanced at him. “Problem?”

  “Just realizing how much there is to do.”

  The corners of Gabe’s mouth twitched upward.

  “Okay, okay, I can hear you saying ‘Duh’ in your mind. You might as well say it out loud.”

  “We’ll get it done. Don’t worry.”

  Gabe’s deep voice rumbled up Jerry’s spine and made his eyes hot. “Thank you for helping me, Gabe. I don’t know how I’d get it done if it wasn’t for you.”

  “You’d have found someone.” Gabe chuckled. “You’re very persuasive.”

  “No. I was supposed to meet you.”

  “Uh, thanks.” There was a moment of silence; then Gabe spoke very softly. “I’m glad you did.”

  Jerry pretty much smiled all the way through the unloading, which was damned hard and took an hour of trying to maneuver the huge pieces of furniture across the lawn and up the stairs to the nearest door. Once inside, they placed the credenza at one end of the dining room that looked over the pool. The gleaming wood of the cabinet glowed against the Saltillo tile floors and gave the room—which still needed paint, rugs, and a table—some promise.

  When they’d wrangled the coffee table into place in the middle of the huge great room, Gabe laughed. “I guess we can call it a start.”

  Jerry threw his arms out and spun. “But it’s sooooo beautiful.” He kept swooping and twirling around the room until his head spun and the floor of the room and the wood ceiling far above kind of blended together. He threw his head back and laughed, his foot hit one of the rough places on the tile, and he staggered. “Whoa!” He slid and teetered toward the floor.

  Before he could hit, Gabe snatched him into a full-body grab. “Hang on.”

  Jerry took him at his word. Wrapping his arms tightly around Gabe’s neck, he hung on like crazy. Truthfully, he was too dizzy to stand up—

  —and the Captain America arms didn’t help that dizziness one bit.

  Before he could really analyze his situation, he’d pressed himself full length against Gabe’s tall, sturdy body, laughing tipsily.

  Yes, the contact was pretty wriggly, and if he’d asked himself a hundred times whether Gabe might, just might, like guys since he seemed to look at Jerry like an hors d’oeuvre sometimes, he now got his answer. One formidable protuberance rose in the middle of the embrace and seemed to be matched in his own pants. Gabe’s heartbeat pounded against Jerry’s chest.

  Oh fuck! Just one taste. Jerry slid the arm that was tightly wrapped around Gabe’s neck up a couple inches and yanked Gabe’s head down so he could lock their lips together.

  The first touch produced an electric spark that slammed straight to Jerry’s balls so hard, for a second he had to hold his breath to keep from embarrassing himself with wet sweats. As the first gasp came under control, a tsunami of heat washed through him, and he slid his fingers tightly into Gabe’s shaggy, silken hair, as he pressed closer from lips to hips.

  Gabe had been holding Jerry around the waist. His strong hands slid down and grasped Jerry’s butt and squeezed. Jerry gasped at the amazing pressure, and everything in him wanted to climb Gabe like a tree and then plant that evergreen where it would do the most good.

  Before Jerry could anchor a leg around Gabe’s hips, he was gone, and Jerry was staggering backward to keep from falling.

  Gabe gasped, “Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I hope you enjoy the furniture. Let me know if you change your mind about the other pieces. Otherwise I’ll make sure they get here while you’re gone.” With that he turned, hurried from the house, and before Jerry even made it to the front door, had disappeared out of sight.

  Jerry slammed the front door, leaned against it, then slowly collapsed to the floor. Fuck-a-doodle-doo. Good job, asshole. Find somebody you actually like and enjoy being around and screw it up by being you.

  He dropped his head onto his bent knees.

  GABE COULDN’T get his breathing under control. He pulled over to the side of the road about a block from his house, leaned his head back, and sucked air, long and slow, in through his nose. “What the hell did I do?”

  He slammed his hand on the steering wheel, but at least on the bottom so nobody on the street could see. He pulled his cell from his pocket and held it so he’d look like he was being a responsible citizen and not driving while on his phone. Responsible, my ass. I actually get a chance to do something good for Ellie, to sell some of my furniture and make some extra money for her college. All I had to do was be a responsible businessman, and what the fuck do I do? Jump my client’s bones.

  Gabe shook his head. Can I undo this? Jerry’s going out of town, and I probably won’t see him for a week. If he doesn’t fire me tonight or tomorrow, maybe I can get a lot done while he’s gone, and when he comes back, he’ll be surprised. I’ll act like the person he hired, and maybe—

  A picture of him and Jerry wrapped in each other’s arms formed from the swirl of confusion in his brain.

  Okay, wait—

  Jerry hadn’t been trying to get away. Hell, if he remembered right, Jerry actually kissed him. Sure, if he’d waited one second, Gabe would have been all over him, but he didn’t. He started it. Okay, so maybe he’s not super upset. Or maybe he’s pissed that I ended it—

  A knock on the driver’s window startled him. MaryAnn, one of Ellie’s friends, stood outside waving at him.

  He rolled down the window. “Hi, MaryAnn.” He gestured with the phone. “Just finished a phone call.”

  “Oh, cool. I just wanted to be sure everything was okay. Hey, I’m so jealous of Ellie’s Jet Gemini tickets. Good going.”

  “Yeah, she’s excited.”

  “She’s going to record it for me. I know it’s not allowed, but I promised not to, like, post it or anything. You’re so lucky.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, so bye.” She waved again and bounced away.

  He closed the window. Okay, time to stop this shit and go home. Avoiding sexual crap was the smartest thing he’d ever done, even if his cock hated it. His agenda was clear—keep his nose clean, stay untangled, and get his daughter into a good college.

  Oh yeah, everything below his belt hated that idea. Some things in his chest too.

  He started the truck and drove home. As he pulled into the driveway, the front door of the house burst open and Ellie ran out full speed. He opened the truck door, laughing as she hurled herself at him for a hug.

  “You sold the furniture. You sold it. Yahoooo!” She stepped back, and the smile faded just a little. “Are we sure he can pay for it?”

  Gabe shrugged. “I’ve used his strange credit card a couple times, and it’s worked. He says I should charge the furniture on it too.”

  “Wow. Maybe we should do it quick.” She laughed and fell in beside him as they walked into the house. “How much are you going to charge him?”

  “The same thing I was going to charge Mrs. McRae with a, uh, quantity bonus.” He toed off his boots and shed his windbreaker by the door.

  “Quantity?”

  “Yeah.” He chewed his lip. “You couldn’t see it in the truck, but he also took the credenza.”

  “Holy crap.” She glanced at him. “Cow.”

  They both laughed. Gabe said, “And he says he wants the dining table and the bookshelf too.”

  She pressed a hand over her mouth. “Dad, that’s amazing.”

  He nodded, but he had to manage her enthusiasm a little. “But we shouldn’t get too over-the-top. He’s a pretty unusual person, and who knows what the future will bring.” He sat on the couch, and she pe
rched on the chair opposite him.

  “That makes sense. We need to be excited about selling the two pieces and not count on anything else.” She stared into space and nodded to herself. “I mean, seriously. Anyone who wears that beanie and those sunglasses at the same time can’t be the world’s most stable individual.”

  Gabe barked a laugh, but it hit his heart. “He’s a nice guy, really. I just don’t know much about him, so I don’t want to count on his business.” That was kind of the truth.

  She stood. “Thanks, Dad. Anyone who makes us three thousand dollars and two pieces of furniture richer needs to be appreciated and not dissed. I apologize for my attitude. Beanies are beautiful!” She laughed and walked into the kitchen, then called, “Dinner in fifteen.”

  “I’ll make salad.”

  “Tricky one. You’re on.”

  He went to his bedroom, changed, and then headed for the refrigerator. As he washed spinach for the salad, Ellie said, “So what’s he like?”

  “Jerry?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s actually pretty friendly and even talkative one-on-one, but if somebody else shows up, he vanishes. The whole time I was meeting with Jorge, I guess Jerry was skulking and listening in, but he never showed his face.”

  “Why, do you think?”

  “I don’t know. Extreme social anxiety, I guess.”

  “He talked to me okay. I mean, he seemed shy, but not tongue-tied. What’s with the disguise?”

  Gabe frowned. “Disguise. You think it is?”

  “What else?”

  “Just part of his shyness, I guess. Hell, I walked in on him when he was taking a nap, and he was wearing that insane hat.”

  She shook her head. “Weird, I’ll admit.” She pulled a steaming casserole that smelled really good from the oven and carried it to the table. “I guess we have to go back to a card table again if Jerry buys this one.” She grinned. “Know what? I won’t mind that at all.”

  Gabe put his salad on the table too, and then carried two glasses of water to their places. Ellie sat next to him, and they dug into her casserole, which turned out to be mac and cheese and broccoli with lots of good tomatoes and herbs. “This is delicious.”