by Con Riley
Paul added an incentive. “We could go get some lunch if you like.”
“We could do that.”
He needed to make some calls anyway, to find somewhere to fix that stupid fucking mower, and to catch up with the cop assigned to investigate Levi’s theft. He put Paul’s hammer back in the toolbox, watching with approval as the older man poured a pocketful of nails into their own compartment. Paul was a methodical worker. How he had patience for Marco’s brand of assistance, Aiden had no clue.
When he’d gotten back from the store, the backyard had been filled with lumber, arranged in piles of varying lengths, and Paul had been trying to hammer them into place while Marco supervised from where he sunbathed in only his Speedo and a pair of sunglasses. By the time Aiden had pulled on some work gear after shedding his dressier work clothes with a sigh of relief, Marco was coming inside.
Paul had sounded confused. “Where are you going, Marco? You only just came out here. I thought you were gonna entertain me.”
Marco had waved off his question and then pushed past Aiden. He’d kept his head down and hadn’t said more than a polite “Excuse me.”
Paul had asked what was up with his housemate, and Aiden had shrugged before getting down to some therapeutic pounding. There was something to be said for a dose of good, hard, honest physical labor. By the time Paul made his lunch-break suggestion, Aiden was feeling somewhat better. He felt guilty too, especially when he walked through the kitchen on his way to take a quick shower. Marco had papers spread across the small kitchen table as he tallied columns of numbers. He was speaking on his phone when Aiden came back, dark hair dripping over his forehead, sprinkling Marco’s invoices with fat drops of water as Aiden leaned over and wrote Lunch? on the corner of Marco’s legal pad.
Marco looked up, his gaze level and steady.
Yeah, Aiden felt guilty all right.
He didn’t feel too much better when Marco slowly nodded before resuming his call. Aiden headed out and wandered over to where Paul surveyed their progress. The fence stretched along the boundary between Peter’s property and that of his next-door neighbor.
“You know it’s not level, don’t you?”
Paul nodded, and turned to Aiden with such a wide grin on his face that he looked just like his son. “Yup.”
The fence, which was still only half-finished, undulated wildly in height. No two lengths of wood were the same. The end result was the opposite of neat and tidy.
Aiden said, “Peter’s neighbor will go bat-shit crazy.” The woman next door was a royal pain. She’d harassed Aiden more than once about parking his rusty old pickup in the drive, as if that were any of her business, and she vocally expressed her hatred of Marco’s habit of wandering out to pick up the newspaper wearing virtually nothing.
Paul sounded satisfied as he ran a comb through his already neat steel-gray hair. “Yup. I’m pretty sure there will be fireworks later. Amber says she should set up a web cam so we don’t miss a minute.”
Marco teased Paul about Amber all the time, calling Peter’s other neighbor across the street Paul’s new girlfriend. The way Paul smiled all the time lately, Aiden didn’t think Marco was wrong. They’d seen a whole lot of the man, and Aiden initially had wondered if Paul believed they were going to damage his son’s property. He soon figured out that Paul was on a mission to find excuses to spend time close to Amber. It was kinda sweet. It was weird too. They both must be close to Aiden’s mom’s age.
“Where’s your biggest fan?” Paul teased Aiden, asking where Marco was as he finished putting away his tools. “He’s coming along too, isn’t he?”
“I think so. It looks as if he’s doing some work for once.”
“Hey now, he works all the time.”
Aiden snorted. He didn’t think so.
“What do you think he does when you’re not here? Sit around watching sports?”
Aiden snorted again. Watching sports with Marco was like herding cats—pointless and exhausting. He’d constantly want to know what was happening, asking Aiden “Why?” all the time, and then he’d ignore his careful explanations. He’d frown furiously, his head tilted to one side as they watched baseball, and then he’d turn to Aiden as if he had a very important question about the game. His expression would be deadly serious as he slid closer to Aiden on the couch, looking like someone finally about to make a breakthrough in their understanding. Then he’d ruin it every single time by asking something like “What do they wear under those pants?” Yeah, watching sports was the least likely of Marco’s lazy occupations.
“No, he probably watches all the soaps.” They walked over to Paul’s crew-cab truck.
“I don’t know why you’re so down on him, Aiden. He’s a hard-working man. Just because you don’t see it happen doesn’t mean his business runs itself. Maybe the time zones mean he works when you’re asleep.”
Aiden almost told Paul that Marco sure had him snowed, but then he did a little mental arithmetic. Marco did make a lot of calls at night. He’d drifted off to sleep after midnight many times to staccato Italian filtering through the wall that divided their bedrooms. He’d assumed Marco had been speaking with his brothers. Maybe working all night accounted for how bleary-eyed he was most mornings when he served the delicious breakfasts and coffee that Aiden didn’t ask for and only grudgingly accepted.
Paul nudged him with his elbow. “Isn’t it about time you gave him a break? I don’t know what’s happened, but you two should clear the air. I thought you were getting along better. You haven’t locked him out for weeks.”
Aiden was noncommittal, even though Paul was right. Locking Marco out used to be the only way he’d get any peace, until Marco wised up and started carrying his keys with him. Either Marco was easier to get along with lately, or Aiden had gotten used to his almost-constant conversation. He watched Marco leave the house, locking the back door carefully behind him. He picked up a wet towel, draping it over a chair near the hot tub to dry, and turned toward them, his hand hiding a huge yawn. He did look wiped out.
“We’re fine.”
Paul sniffed. “Fine? Alrighty. If you say so, son.”
“I’ll talk to him.” As Marco got closer, smiling at Paul and avoiding Aiden’s gaze completely, Aiden guessed that he really should.
It didn’t matter how busy he’d kept himself, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened last night. He’d shared stuff he hadn’t meant to, and he’d almost done more than make out with his housemate. If Evan hadn’t come back, he would have gone as far as Marco let him.
This wasn’t him. It wasn’t the way he operated. All that and insulting the man in front of Evan and Joel this morning? What a mess.
Marco climbed in the back seat and asked about Paul’s son as they drove.
“Pete’s good. Sean is too. He’s working from home for a while now instead of at the university, so Pete’s happy about that. They’ll both be in Oregon for the next two months at least. He said to tell you two that he’ll be home for Thanksgiving.”
Paul’s son was a paramedic instructor. His job took him all over, so hearing that he and his new partner Sean had found a way to spend more time together was cool. House-sitting for longer also seemed like a reprieve. Aiden didn’t want to think about moving out of Peter’s house and back to his apartment. Not now, and especially not after last night. As his hard-work buzz faded, he started to feel like shit again, letting out a sigh that was long and loud. Marco shuffled forward, leaned between the seats, and spoke quietly, directly into Aiden’s ear.
“You don’t have to stay until Thanksgiving. I can mind the house on my own. Or I can find somewhere else. Whatever you want.”
Aiden shook his head. He didn’t want Marco to move out, even though he could understand why he might want to after last night and after what Marco had overheard him say this morning. He turned around, wanting to make things right, not knowing where to start.
Marco had already settled back on the bench seat
. He stared out the window, his full lips thinning as he pressed them together. He smiled as Paul spoke to him, but it was a faint shadow of the smiles he normally wore. He glanced at Aiden, mouthing, “What?” When Marco squinted, the laugh lines around his warm brown eyes looked more pronounced than ever.
Aiden’s voice was rough, his words unintentional. “You look so much like Ben today.” Marco looked back at him, lips parting slightly. He swallowed, and Aiden focused on the bob of his Adam’s apple.
They drove the rest of the way in silence.
When Marco next spoke, he sounded amused. “We must have passed half a dozen diners, Paul. Tell me, are we meeting Amber for lunch? Is that why you’ve driven halfway across Seattle? Are you trying to hide your love affair from the neighbors?” he teased as Paul parked in a lot behind an unfamiliar restaurant.
“Can it, short stuff. I have a standing lunch date here every week. Some of us have social lives, you know.”
Paul was good company. Aiden could see where Peter got his almost-constant gentle humor. He was easy to be around. No wonder Marco had finally relaxed. That relaxation lasted until they were shown to a booth. Paul stepped aside, used to Marco wanting to sit next to Aiden. That had annoyed the snot out of Aiden the first few times they ate out together. Marco would lean all over him while he perused the menu, then he’d steal from Aiden’s plate, critiquing every single thing he’d ordered.
This time, Marco made an excuse and headed for the bathroom. He returned as their server set down glasses of water, and he sat next to Paul instead. They ordered and made small talk until Paul’s lunch date arrived.
“You must be Aiden.” A tall, fair-haired man slid into the booth beside him. “Paul said you were a big guy, but he didn’t tell me you had dimples.” His twang hinted at Texas. “I’m a sucker for two things, dimples and good manners.”
Paul rose slightly in his seat and dipped his head, mimicking an abbreviated bow. He gestured toward the others with an ostentatious flourish. “Jack, may I introduce Aiden Daly and Marco Fortunato de Luca. They’re the kids I told you about, house-sitting for Pete.”
They all exchanged greetings, Jack still smiling over Paul’s extravagant use of formal manners. “Marco Fortunato, that’s an interesting name.”
Marco nodded and smiled but said nothing. Aiden couldn’t recall the number of times Marco had told unsuspecting bystanders the story behind his full name. Here was a golden opportunity to talk about himself, yet he didn’t take it.
“Fortunato means lucky. His mother thinks she was very lucky to have him. It’s a sign of how much she loves him. He’s her favorite, and he’s named after his father.” Aiden took a long, slow drink of water to shut himself up. Jesus. Where had all of that come from?
“Is that so?” Jack asked, turning Aiden’s way, his brows raised over pale blue eyes before he focused on Marco once more.
Marco nodded, then cleared his throat before asking, “How do you know Paul?”
“Don’t believe a word he says,” Paul warned, but he grinned as he did so.
“I’m a librarian. Paul uses our library PCs to look at gay porn.”
“I do not.”
Aiden choked. Marco looked delighted.
“Are you calling me a liar?” Jack’s smile was contagious. “You know I have logs of every page you’ve ever viewed.”
Aiden watched as Marco’s own smile grew to mirror Jack’s before he spoke. He noticed too how Jack paid close attention, leaning forward as Marco spoke soft, huskily Italian-accented words. “Is this true, Paul? You know you don’t need to go to the library for that. Aiden has quite a collection on his laptop.”
Aiden choked again, while Marco nodded. “He should choose a stronger password, but until he does, you can help yourself.” He slipped closer to Paul in the booth, and although he whispered in his ear, they all heard the words “It’s ‘blowjob’” slip from Marco’s lips.
Paul chuckled, shaking his head, and Marco beamed.
Jack’s laughter was loud, attracting attention from across the diner. He turned to look at Aiden.
“Is that really your password?” His gaze was warm and speculative.
“No.” Aiden glared over at Marco, who suddenly looked sick. He watched his housemate’s habitual smile fall away. Maybe he was replaying Aiden’s gripe that Marco would tell the whole world his business. Aiden wished he could take back the way he’d snapped. He hadn’t meant what he’d said that morning. He’d felt cornered by Joel, and Marco had been an easy target. It was no excuse. He needed to apologize.
The server distracted them, bringing their order. Then the next little while was taken up with eating and with Jack telling tall tales about library patrons. Aiden ate and listened, watching Marco slowly relax again as Jack entertained them.
The librarian told them how he’d gotten to know Paul after an unfortunate gay-porn mishap when he’d tried to find out how his son kept busy while away one time in San Francisco. He explained that the internet section of the library was his domain. There wasn’t much he couldn’t help people find. “Most of the people I assist are seniors into genealogy. The internet can be an amazing tool for finding family connections.” He was passionate. “It can change lonely people’s lives, and being part of that can be wonderful. You’re never as alone as you think.”
Paul asked if tracing people was hard.
“Nope. All I need are the right search terms. I tell them that’s the key to the internet. Use the right search terms and they can discover anything. Everything.”
Marco spoke up after glancing at Aiden. “Can you find out something for me?” he asked, like he didn’t have a smartphone in his pocket. “Like how to repair a mower?”
“I sure can.” Jack leaned over the table and smiled. “Why don’t you come back with me, and I’ll show you.”
They all walked with Jack after they were done eating. Aiden dawdled behind them, telling himself that he must have eaten too fast to have given himself such awful indigestion. That inner burning sensation rose and fell as he watched Jack’s hand hover at the small of Marco’s back while they waited to cross the street. Its flames licked at Aiden’s insides as Jack’s hand grasped Marco’s elbow for a moment before sliding across his shoulders as they climbed the library steps together.
Aiden’s internal monologue was firmly critical. There was nothing wrong with the mower that he couldn’t fix himself. It was only time that was his problem. He didn’t have all day to goof off online, like some people apparently did. Still, he stood to one side as Jack typed a few words into Google.
“See?” Jack clicked on a link. “Everything you could ever want to know about repairing a mower. It’s like magic to some of the seniors who come here.”
Magic? Aiden snorted. He didn’t fucking think so.
Any fool could use a search engine. Any fool at all. Marco had to know that; maybe he’d simply been flirting. Jack certainly seemed to like him.
Aiden wandered off, losing himself in a maze of stacks, glaring at the book covers along one tucked-away row, judging them as he went.
Marco, on the other hand, was very impressed. He came to find Aiden, his expression delighted. “Good news! It’s probably only a blockage in the fuel line. An easy fix. Are you going back to work later? You could drop me at your mamma’s, and I’ll—”
“No.” Aiden didn’t want Marco there, not without him, anyway.
Marco stepped closer. “I wish you would tell me what I did that has upset you so badly.” His expression was serious. It looked all wrong on his face. “I don’t know exactly what I’ve done. If I did, I would say I’m sorry, but I don’t, tesoro. I don’t know what happened.” He reached out and looped his fingers around Aiden’s wrist. “The things you told me about your father . . . I would never share them. Never. I don’t even understand the whole story.” He shook his head. “You started to tell me about your family, and then we kissed. We did more than kiss. I thought . . . .” He stopped speaking, and looked do
wn at his feet.
Aiden glanced over his shoulder. He walked Marco around another corner and whispered, “No, I’m sorry.”
“What did you say? Why are you speaking so quietly? I can’t hear you.”
Aiden grabbed him and pulled him closer, bending to speak into his ear. “Do you even have a library voice?” Marco smelled so good.
“Did you just sniff my hair?” This time Marco whispered too.
“No. That would be weird.” Aiden took in another deep lungful of warm, spicy-scented Italian. “I am sorry about this morning. Joel just makes me crazy. I don’t even know what I was thinking, then or last night.” He dipped down again to Marco’s ear and slowly let his breath out. “I feel bad.”
“Me too. So bad.” Marco shivered, and his lips almost touched Aiden’s cheek. He whispered in return. “Maybe we should start over?”
Aiden’s voice was a little louder. “What do you mean?”
“Hush. The librarian will hear you.” They retreated farther until they stood tucked away in a dead end of bookshelves reaching higher than Aiden’s head. Marco pressed his palm to Aiden’s chest. “I annoy you. No, no, I know I do. Most of the time I intend to. I like to see your face flush and your eyes shine. I used to do the same with Theo. My brother used to love it when Theo yelled like a born de Luca. But you? I just want you to pay attention.” He reached up and grasped Aiden’s shoulders, squeezing them. “Not only to me, Aiden. I want you to pay attention to life. I’ve lived with you for over a month, and it looks like you don’t have one of your own. It makes me crazy that I’m the only person who notices, apart from Joel.”
Aiden shook his head.
First, Joel could fuck off. Things had been fine until he’d come into Evan’s life, upsetting the status quo Aiden had worked so hard to manage.
Second, none of that was true. None of it. He did have a life. If anything, he had too much on his plate and was just tired. That was all. Managing people wasn’t easy, and managing money was even harder. Making the books balance for his family was the hardest thing of all.
