Chapter Seven

BLAKE tugged off his dirty sweatshirt and replaced it with a sweater before leaving Henry Clay on Friday. If he was lucky, he’d make it to Enoteca before happy hour was over at six thirty, but that might be wishful thinking. Heidi would already be there holding a table, though, so he hurried out to the car as fast as he could, ignoring the bite of the February wind. If he’d had farther to go than his car, he’d have put on a coat, but he was sweaty from working, and the cold air felt good.

He found a parking spot not too far from the restaurant and walked down the street as fast as he could, but even that wasn’t enough to keep him from shivering by the time he got inside. He glanced around until he found Heidi sitting in the back corner with Brent. Navashen, Brent’s boyfriend, was nowhere to be seen.

“Is Nav on call?” Blake asked as he joined them.

“No, but he’s got a sick baby, and you know how he is,” Brent said. “I’ll be lucky to see him before midnight. How are you?”

“It’s been a week,” Blake said. “Tech crew started back up. I’ve got some new kids, most of them really hard workers, but I also got an overprotective guardian.”

Heidi snickered, so Blake rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, that one.”

“Which one?” Brent asked.

“Thane Dalton. His nephews transferred to Henry Clay recently and have had a rough time settling in. We had a conference last week, and now this week he’s started showing up to help with tech crew.”

“Thane Dalton like Dalton Construction?” Brent asked.

“Yeah, do you know him?”

Brent chuckled. “I’ve worked with him a few times with clients who want to buy houses he’s built or renovated. He’s a shrewd businessman. I’m having trouble seeing him as the parental type.”

“That makes two of us,” Blake muttered.

Brent’s phone buzzed, drawing his attention away. When he looked back up, he smiled and stood. “Nav is heading home, but it was a bad day. I’m going to meet him there. You are planning on coming to the St. Patrick’s Day party next month, right?”

“It’ll depend on how things are going with the sets, but yes, I’m planning on it,” Blake said.

“Me too,” Heidi replied.

“Good. Bring a date if you want. All invitations are plus one.”

Brent left before Blake could reply.

“Go on,” Heidi said when they were alone. “Dish. I can practically see the steam blowing out of your ears.”

“He’s a self-important, domineering pain in the ass,” Blake muttered. “He comes onto my stage in my school and tries to tell me I’m not doing it right. I’ve been building sets for twenty years. I think I know what I’m doing.”

“I know you know what you’re doing. I worked with you for four years,” Heidi said. “What does he think you’re doing wrong?”

“Everything. I don’t supervise well enough, I’m too hands-off, I make the kids do everything—you name it, he’s harped on it this week,” Blake replied.

“You know none of that’s true, and none of it is new. You’ve heard it all before and had no problem brushing it off. Why is it different this time?”

That brought Blake up short. Heidi was right. Why did he care what Thane thought?

“Because he’s not just coming in, giving an opinion, and leaving. He’s hanging around to help, which is great for Kit and Phillip, but it’s not so great for me.”

“I thought you said you were over your crush on him,” Heidi said.

“I am. I have no interest in him beyond helping his nephews, but I can’t seem to string a full sentence together when he looks at me. It’s stupid. I outgrew this stage years ago.”

“You did. I watched you. The question now is what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to keep ignoring him,” Blake said. “I invited him—and I still think it will be good for Kit and Phillip to have him there—so I can’t make him leave. He can rant all he wants. I know what I’m doing. And in a few months this will be over, and I’ll never have to see him again because next year Kit and Phillip will be another principal’s responsibility. If nothing else, it answers that lingering question of what might have happened if he’d noticed me all those years ago. It’s bad enough now. Can you imagine if he’d actually paid any attention to fifteen-year-old me?”

Heidi laughed. “I can imagine. He was nice to look at, but we knew even then that he wasn’t actually a nice guy. Alpha assholes make great romantic heroes. They don’t make great real-life boyfriends.”

Thane was still nice to look at, but it would never go further than that. He might still feature in the occasional nighttime fantasy, as he had done off and on since Blake realized he was gay, but reality had shredded any lingering desire beyond that.

“Exactly.”

“LET’S call it a day,” Thane said, pulling off his hard hat and tucking his hammer in his tool belt. “It’s getting dark, and I’m tired.”

“You’re tired?” Derek retorted. “You took two afternoons off this week.”

“Off here. I worked there.”

“Sure. Real work?”

“Nothing that would meet code, but hauling lumber is work regardless of what you build with it when you’re done,” Thane said with a shrug.

“True that. You want to get a beer?”

“I really ought to go home and get dinner for Kit and Phillip,” Thane said.

Derek snorted. “Order a pizza—make that two—and leave them money to cover it. I know you’re trying your damnedest to do right by them, but you’re going to burn yourself out in the process if you aren’t careful.”

Derek’s concern warmed Thane, but he had to go home. “Why don’t you come too? I can order pizza. We can crack open a few beers. The boys will probably end up playing video games, and we can unwind.”

“I’m not blowing you in the name of relaxation.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” They’d done that once, in a haze of drunken euphoria. While they’d both settled on bi as a designation, they’d also agreed they were too much like brothers for that to ever be anything less than weird, but it didn’t stop Derek from needling him with it occasionally. Then again, Thane had been known to return the teasing in spades, so he couldn’t really complain.

“As long as we’re clear.” Derek swung an arm around Thane’s shoulders. “And no anchovies on the pizza.”

Thane had never done that, no matter how many times he threatened to. If he did, he’d have to eat them too.

“WE’RE home, Uncle Thane.”

“We’re in the kitchen,” Thane called back. Kit and Phillip traipsed into the room with huge grins on their faces. Kit had a smear of dirt across his cheek, and Phillip’s hair was full of sawdust. “You look like you worked hard today.”

“Emma taught us how to use the table saw,” Kit said. “We got to cut the lauan for all the new flats.”

“That explains the sawdust, although not how it got in Phillip’s hair,” Derek said.

“Hello, Mr. Jackson,” Kit said.

“You can call me Derek, kid. I’m not your teacher.”

“How did the sawdust get in Phillip’s hair?” Thane asked. “I thought Mr. Barnes was supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

“We were messing around,” Kit said, shamefaced. “Mr. Barnes tore us a new one for playing in the shop, even if all the tools were off. I know you don’t like him, but he really does care about what we’re doing. He lets us make little mistakes because that’s how we learn, but not if they’re dangerous.”

“Go get cleaned up. Pizza will be here soon.”

Kit and Phillip left as directed, Kit’s hunched shoulders making Thane feel like he’d just kicked a puppy.

“What’s up with that?” Derek asked.

“Barnes, the principal who’s in charge of their situation, is also the sponsor for the stage crew,” Thane explained. “He’s not a go-getter. The kids do all the work, and the older ones do most of the teaching, from what I’ve seen. Not exactly the way I do things.”

“I’m aware,” Derek said with a wry smile. “I’ve pulled your ass off of sites at oh dark hundred hours when it was colder than a witch’s tit because you were determined to finish the job, even though you’d sent everyone else home.”

“I won’t ask anyone to do something I’m not willing to do myself,” Thane said.

“There’s a difference between working beside them and staying when you don’t have to.”

“Maybe.” He pulled another beer out of the fridge and tossed it to Derek. “None of that makes me feel any better about Barnes.”

“Kit said he stopped them from doing something dangerous, so he obviously has that much common sense. Why are you so bothered by this?”

“He’s responsible for Kit and Phillip’s safety,” Thane said immediately,

“Tell me another one.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Kit and Phillip aren’t stupid, and Lily wasn’t either, so I’m going to put my money on them not needing much supervision.”

“You heard what Kit said about them roughhousing in the shop.”

“Yes, and I also heard that Barnes stopped them, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about on that level.” Derek leveled a piercing stare at Thane, the kind that made him want to squirm, even if he’d never show it. Not like Derek couldn’t see right through him anyway. “Is he cute?”

“What are you talking about?” Delaying never worked when Derek got the bit between his teeth, but Thane never stopped trying.

“Barnes. Is he cute?”

“I suppose, if you like the rumpled-polyester-suit type, which as you know is not my type,” Thane replied.

“It’s not like he’d still be wearing the suit if you took him to bed.”

Thane glared at Derek, who ignored him completely. He tried to push the thought out of his head, but now that Derek had said it, Thane couldn’t unhear it. Why did he hang out with Derek again?

Before he could come up with a suitable (or not so suitable) reply, Phillip came back into the kitchen with his face freshly scrubbed and his hair still damp. “Kit will be down in a minute. Are you staying for dinner, Derek?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Derek said. “I want to hear all about what you and Kit are doing at school.”

There was a special place in hell with Derek’s name on it, and Thane was going to see him there sooner rather than later if he kept this up.