Set the Stage (A Rivervue Community Theatre Romance, #2)

by Daniel De Lorne

  Bruce had set up a portable workbench on the back part of the stage, with tools laid out neatly for him to grab as he needed. His broad and muscled back faced the door until he moved around. Gabriel stepped back but Bruce was concentrating and didn’t look up. His tongue stuck through his teeth as he tightened a clamp holding two pieces of timber in place. He picked up the hammer, working quickly to nail them together with a few blows. Bruce hummed in tune with the music. Lost in his world.

  No, not lost.

  Home. Where he should be.

  Gabriel hesitated. Bruce didn’t want or need his help—he’d made that clear earlier—and he looked happy being alone. And considering they were Gabriel’s ‘complex’ designs, Bruce would welcome him about as much as a safety inspector on a building site. Not that Bruce had to worry about ever getting a reprimand. As much as Gabriel wanted him to be shirtless to the waist, sweat dripping down his back and through the hair on his chest, Bruce was Mr Safety. Goggles, earmuffs, steel-capped boots, long-sleeve shirt and pants. Still, even with Bruce covered in all that, Gabriel’s groin buzzed like a bandsaw.

  Coming to the theatre was a mistake. His skills lay in telling other people what to build, not how. He’d wanted to check that Bruce was alright. And he was. Without him.

  He turned to go but got caught in his feet and fell against a road case. It banged into something else loud and sonorous. Gabriel cringed.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Bruce’s voice boomed.

  Gabriel swore as he picked himself up and stepped into the light.

  ‘Gabe.’ Bruce frowned. ‘What are you doing here? Checking up on my work again?’

  Gabe. Slip of the tongue?

  But the sound of that single syllable throbbed in his solar plexus. He’d blown his cover so he may as well get on with it. He walked towards Bruce who stood with the hammer in his hand like some redheaded Thor. An easy slouch to his shoulders, his shirt tight across his chest, comfortable in his domain.

  ‘I came—’ He spoke barely loud enough to be heard over the music. He cleared his throat. ‘I came to see if I could help.’

  Bruce grunted. ‘Haven’t you helped me enough for one day?’

  Sharp-taloned rejection swiped his chest but he resisted the urge to retaliate. If Bruce wanted to nurse his hurt pride, Gabriel wouldn’t provide the milk. ‘Why? Did Clarence pay you already?’

  ‘No, and I doubt he will thanks to the way you spoke to him.’ Bruce returned to his work, picked up a nail and aligned it straight as an arrow.

  ‘I’m sorry I upset you but Clarence will pay. You were just being too easy with him.’

  He didn’t hammer the nail home. Instead he straightened and the little piece of metal disappeared into his fist. ‘I have a right to conduct my business in the way I choose.’

  ‘You were being taken advantage of.’

  ‘You’d know all about that.’

  Bruce’s accusation struck him in the chest and made him flinch. He’d be less surprised if Bruce had actually hit him with the hammer. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he growled. Green flames flickered in his eyes.

  ‘No, tell me.’ He drove his weight into the floor. They were finally getting to the crux of Bruce’s hostility towards him and he would not be deterred. Bruce couldn’t run away this time.

  ‘Forget it.’ Bruce waved his hand, the gesture cutting deep into the soft underside of Gabriel’s ribcage. ‘Go home to your mother. That’s where you should be.’

  Air blasted through his nostrils as he fought to withstand the hurt. He would not run from this either. ‘I knew you’d say that. For your information she told me to get out of the house. She’s got a friend staying with her tonight and wanted to give me a break. She practically had to force me out.’

  ‘Then go bother someone else.’

  ‘Why won’t you let me help? You’re the only one here and it can’t be easy.’

  ‘Your mother’s designs certainly made sure of that.’

  ‘For God’s sake, let me help you. Like you used to.’

  ‘That was different. I wasn’t getting paid back then.’

  ‘I’m not asking to get paid, Bruce. I just want to help.’

  Bruce gripped the hammer just below the head and squeezed. His lips had curled in on themselves, his biceps tense and solid. But for all Bruce’s strength and size Gabriel never felt threatened. He was a guardian, not a berserker. He’d always felt safe with Bruce around.

  ‘Please.’

  Bruce let go of his breath in an explosive puff. ‘Fine. But I don’t want any talking back.’ He shook the hammer at him. ‘You do what I say and we get this done. I don’t have time for mucking about.’ Bruce walked over to his toolbox, grabbed a set of goggles and held them out. ‘Those fancy shoes of yours have steel caps in them?’

  Fancy shoes? They might have had a pattern in the canvas but they weren’t even branded. He’d bought them at a discounted shoe shop in the city.

  ‘Umm … no.’

  ‘Just don’t drop anything, alright? My insurance won’t cover you.’

  Gabriel took the goggles, put them on and followed Bruce’s orders while Janis Joplin crooned in the background. For a while it was just the sound of the music and Bruce’s directions as the biggest pieces of the set came together. Bruce gradually relaxed, the set of his shoulders not so square, his lips not so hard and thin. The gruffness smoothed out of his voice as he gave his commands and though they weren’t talking about anything special—barely talking at all in fact—Gabriel loved it. Seeing Bruce in his natural habitat, his softness as he gave instruction and corrected where it was needed. At times Bruce probably forgot who he was talking to, that there was a past there, that Gabriel had embarrassed him in front of a client. He forgot he was teaching Gabriel Mora. Gabriel didn’t mind. It felt like they were starting again.

  ‘Here,’ Bruce said as he came around and placed his big rough hands over and around Gabriel’s smaller ones. Their bodies closer, Bruce’s scent in his nose. ‘You need to hold it like this.’

  There were plenty of other things he’d rather be holding than a piece of wood and drill. His face flushed with heat. Thank God Bruce wasn’t looking directly at him.

  ‘Gabriel.’

  ‘Yes, sure,’ he said as if ripped out of a dream.

  ‘Are you tired?’

  ‘What? No. I’m fine. Let’s keep going.’

  Bruce stepped back but left him with a sliver of unrequited desire. ‘Nah, look, let’s take a break.’ Each step tugged Gabriel’s heart towards the redhead. Bruce looked at his phone and whistled. ‘We’ve been at it a couple of hours now. Where’d that time go? Probably should call it a night.’

  ‘You don’t have to because of me.’

  ‘I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.’ Bruce started to pack his tools.

  ‘So, was I a help or not?’

  Bruce’s lips twitched in the corner. ‘Fine. You were a help. This time.’

  That small smile was enough to keep him going. Gabriel smiled back. Bruce looked away. ‘Help me move these, will you? I don’t want people tripping over them.’

  More work. More deflection. Bruce was once again aware of who he was talking to. It never used to be like this.

  They relocated the sets to the back of the theatre. There were more to build but the one he’d helped with was almost done, which meant the crew could start painting. Bruce had made everything work well so far, and Gabriel could see it all fitting together on stage, how it would rotate and enhance the feeling of time and space altering, of lives being changed on stage.

  And hopefully in the audience too.

  They packed up the rest of the tools in silence. Bruce positioned the ghost light at centre stage and turned it on while switching off the other stage lights. They walked out the back door into thick night. Bruce shut and locked the door behind him, the security light shining on them like a spotlight. They walked to their cars, and Bruce placed his toolbox into th
e back of the ute.

  ‘Well, guess I’ll see you around.’ Bruce took out his keys and unlocked his car door.

  Gabriel shivered. How quickly Bruce put that distance back between them. Yes, he’d come to help, but he was hoping for more. At least an explanation. He wouldn’t get that if he didn’t ask.

  ‘Bruce, before you go.’ He took a step forward. ‘What did you mean when you said I’d know all about taking advantage of you?’

  ‘I told you to forget it. It’s not important.’

  ‘It obviously is, otherwise you wouldn’t have said it. Things aren’t right between us but I don’t know why. I want that old friendship back.’

  ‘What friendship?’

  Bruce’s response punched his gut. Hard.

  Gabriel struggled to find any words to answer, and Bruce took advantage of his delay. ‘You and Jason had the friendship, that was it. I realised that when Jason told me you two had been sleeping together behind my back.’

  Gabriel’s ribs locked, stopping his lungs from taking a full breath, like the air had been poisoned. But it was too late. He’d already inhaled some of Bruce’s noxious accusation.

  ‘You think we were cheating on you?’

  A shadow cut across half of Bruce’s face but the disgust curling his lip and wrinkling his nose shone bright. ‘I’m not interested in your denial. After all this time, you could just be honest.’

  He might have a lot of secrets but he wasn’t going to take the fall for a blatant lie.

  ‘Bruce, it isn’t true. I’d never do that to you. Where did you get this from?’

  ‘Jason told me. You left Brachen and he told me he was going to follow you. He said you’d left because you gave him an ultimatum, either he dump me or you were going.’

  ‘That lying, manipulative, two-faced—’ White heat flashed through his brain and he struggled to speak. ‘You’ve got to believe me, Bruce, nothing was going on between us.’

  ‘Then why did you leave?’

  Because I couldn’t go on being nothing more than friends.

  ‘I had to go to university. I had to get a job and earn some money.’ That was the truth. Near enough. He had wanted to earn enough so he could one day take care of Sofia, and Sydney was far enough away to still be close.

  ‘Convenient. Then why did Jason follow you? He was going to stay in Brachen and work for the family business.’

  ‘How should I know? I didn’t want him there. The first I knew about his plans was him showing up on my doorstep begging for a place to sleep.’

  ‘I bet he didn’t have to beg for long.’

  Should he tell Bruce that they did, in the end, sleep together? They’d been drunk, it had been weeks later, and Jason and Bruce had already broken up. It shouldn’t have mattered but telling Bruce that would only make him look guilty. He left that secret tucked away with the others.

  ‘He stayed for a couple of months and then he found someone else’s life to make hell and became their problem. I haven’t seen him since. I can’t believe you’d take the word of a viper like that over mine.’

  ‘Oh, come on, what was I meant to believe? You left town and he said he was cheating on me and going to follow you. It didn’t look good.’

  ‘You could have talked to me, then or any time since, like I tried to. You didn’t answer any of my calls, you wouldn’t even see me, you just locked me out. You were meant to be the mature responsible one.’

  He sneered. ‘Jason brought out the worst in me. And I thought you were just like him, but better at it. I can’t stand secrets and if I find out someone’s keeping one from me, I can’t think straight.’

  Then you’re not going to like any of the real secrets I’ve got hidden away either.

  ‘I wasn’t keeping anything a secret,’ Gabriel said. ‘There was no relationship between Jason and me. And if you hadn’t been going out with him, I’d have stopped being friends with him long ago.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Gabriel chewed his lip. Was it better to reveal it all? When secrets got out, they ruined things. Maybe a half-truth would be better. ‘I liked spending time with you more than him. With him I always had to feel guarded, but with you I could just be myself.’

  Bruce sighed. ‘Me too.’ He scraped his fingers through his hair. ‘God, I can’t believe I ruined our friendship over the words of that liar. I’ve held on to this anger at you for so long because you mattered more to me than Jason ever did.’

  Gabriel’s heart fibrillated with the possibilities of what Bruce’s words meant, but before he could think of what to say, Bruce hurried on.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk to you while you’ve been here, especially with your mum being sick. I should have spoken to you about this years ago but we don’t always do the right thing. Even at my age.’

  ‘You’re the right kind of age to me.’

  For me.

  Gabriel being younger than Jason had made it harder for Bruce, he knew. At first he’d been so wary. Chaperone this, never left alone that. Bruce was always proper. Jason was old enough that while people had snickered, had tutted, they’d not cried foul. Only chicken. Plenty of people thought Bruce had made a bad choice but that was more because of Jason’s reputation than anything else. Gradually, Bruce had become more comfortable with Gabriel. He’d hugged him often. It became easy. He wanted that back.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Bruce laughed. ‘Looks like we’re both saying that a lot these days.’

  ‘Let’s hope we won’t need to in the future. Can we … Can we try to be friends again? Please?’ Gabriel held out his hand. The cool breeze off the river blew into his palm. Bruce looked at it. What was there left for him to hesitate over now? If anyone should hesitate, it should be Gabriel.

  The secrets were still locked inside—the stupid night he did end up in Jason’s bed, his mother’s designs, hell, even the fact he’d worked on the theatre redevelopment was classified. But he’d hold on to all those secrets and more if it meant Bruce was in his life. The last time he’d revealed secrets about himself he’d been beaten by his father, a person who he should have been able to trust and love without condition. The physical wound had healed but left a scar. The secret to keeping secrets was to keep them secret. It shouldn’t be that difficult.

  Bruce’s big warm hand wrapped around his and they shook. ‘Friends.’

  Gabriel would have preferred a hug, to be pressed against that chest and wrapped in all that man, but that was probably exceeding the level of friendship at this stage. He’d save that for his fantasies.

  ‘Same time tomorrow?’ he asked.

  ‘If you can make it. I’ll be here.’ Bruce opened the door to his car but stopped before he got in. ‘Gabe.’

  He turned, a thrill rushing up his spine at hearing him so familiar.

  ‘I enjoyed spending time with you tonight, even if you can’t hammer a nail properly.’

  The only reason he did such a crap job was because it meant he could feel Bruce’s guiding hands on him.

  ‘Hey, I got better, didn’t I?’

  Bruce laughed and shook his head. A proper broad and unguarded smile. Finally. And Gabriel had been the one to draw it out of him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bruce checked the calendar on his phone to see it wasn’t December twenty-fifth. Nope, still September. He went back to looking at the transactions in his bank account. Either way, a miracle had occurred. Three days since Gabe had blown up at Clarence and the full five thousand dollars had been deposited. Along with three thousand dollars from Gabriel Mora.

  The transfer description read: Gazebo–Plz accept.

  It was double the amount Bruce and Sofia had agreed but came nearer to what it was worth. He thought about returning it, and if Gabriel hadn’t written what he had, then he would have sent half back in case it was done in error. But this was no mistake. It was a gift, and Gabriel had no idea how much it meant. He had enough to cover a couple of repayments for his mortgage and surely that woul
d be enough for the bank to extend the deadline.

  He quickly transferred the money across to the mortgage and phoned Felicity at the bank to make sure she knew. She practically screamed in excitement and said they’d be able to give him an extension. He was going to keep his house! The reality of that tolled loud inside his head. It knocked the strength out of him, and he slumped in the front seat of his car. He’d been saved. He jolted out of his stupor long enough to thank her for doing all she could to let him keep the house while he found a way to sort out his financial problems.

  When he got off the phone, it was like a wave broke. A force barrelled through his body, at times both terrible and invigorating, smashing through the tension locked in his chest these past few months and its wake smoothed out so he could float free on gentle tides. He still had some payments to go before he was back on track, and the rest of his debts needed to be tackled, but he’d got a reprieve. It was over. He’d come so close to losing it all. In less than a week he’d have been forced to leave. He had nowhere to go and would probably have had to load up his ute with as many of his possessions as he could and sleep in that until he found a place to bunk. There’d been no Plan B because he hadn’t wanted to entertain the possibility that he was going to be homeless. And because he’d kept his head down, he hadn’t seen how badly he was going to crash. If it hadn’t been for Gabe, he would have kept going until he ran into the FOR SALE sign on his own property.

  Gabe had saved him. It was as if the conversation they’d had the other night had unblocked him. His anger had dissipated, the obstruction cleared away, and the universe had come flooding in with all the goodness. Or at least that’s what Niamh would have said. Not that he believed in her wacky ideas, not when there was a perfectly reasonable explanation, and that was Gabriel Mora. And he’d done it by confronting the problem head-on and not taking no for an answer. Much as he’d done when exposing the lies that Jason had told him. And, to his shame, that he’d believed without question.