Chapter Nineteen
Riley held his tongue between his lips as rubbed sandpaper over the finer details of the railings, feeling his mind clear as he sank into the rhythm of sanding and dusting, sanding and dusting.
He understood why his father had been the kind of man who did this. He understood why Brent’s father had, as well. Being able to make something with his hands was one of Riley’s favorite feelings. Stillness seemed a lot closer to his grasp when his hands were occupied, no matter how genuinely he tried to meditate.
Perhaps meditation didn’t have to be the same thing for everyone. Maybe he would have been better off taking up whittling. Or crochet.
Considering how confused and worried he was right now, the fact that he was managing even a little calm told him he should probably think about getting a hobby.
Brent obviously wanted him here, and he’d said it wasn’t a rebound thing, but Riley didn’t necessarily believe that.
He believed that Brent didn’t think it was, he didn’t think for a second that Brent was lying to him, but he wasn’t sure Brent knew his own feelings all that well right now.
Riley was waiting for him to snap out of it and realize what he was really getting himself into.
Brent was a great catch, but Riley… was not. He knew it well enough that the thought didn’t even bother him anymore.
He’d never be alone, but he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him as a constant companion. Even Brent.
“You know, we have an electric sander,” Brent said. “It hasn’t been used in a while, but it’s gotta be faster than this.”
Riley looked up, his mind snapping back to the present. Brent was still in the sweatpants he’d worn to bed, his hair sleep-ruffled and his features soft.
He was beautiful.
“I’m trying to preserve the detail,” Riley said after a moment. “I’m not interested in fast. I’m interested in careful. But thank you.”
“You really don’t have to do a careful job,” Brent murmured, running his hand through his hair. “You’re doing more than enough.”
“My dad used to say that any job worth doing is worth doing right.” Riley glanced back down at his work, but he couldn’t concentrate on it while Brent was around. Brent took up all his focus.
“You and your dad never really saw eye-to-eye.”
Riley sighed. He knew he’d given people that impression, but it wasn’t the whole truth. It wasn’t even close to the whole truth.
“Philosophically, we did. We were very similar people. He cared about a lot of the things I cared about. But he wanted to hand the family business over to me the day I turned eighteen. I wasn’t ready. When I left, it was to escape that. By the time I was ready to come back… he was gone. Owen was gone. Charlie was at college most of the time. I love my mom, but the house was so quiet without all of them. I couldn’t stay there. Maybe I’m a coward.”
Brent shifted his weight between his feet. “I don’t think you’re a coward. I could never do what you do. I need to know I have a home to go to.”
Riley laughed. “So do I. I wish somewhere felt like home to me. I barely remember what it’s like to be home.”
Riley hated admitting that he felt lost, but if he could tell anyone, it was Brent. Brent would understand.
“How do you mean?” Brent asked, glancing over at the RV.
Of course. Everyone thought that was Riley’s home.
He had no idea how to explain to him that it was just where he lived. But if anyone would get it, if anyone would be willing to listen to him for long enough to understand, well…
“I left Hope Springs because it didn’t feel like home. I… hate to admit it now, but I wasn’t getting along with my dad. Not because I didn’t love him, but because like I said, we wanted different things. So this place stopped feeling like home.”
“Okay, but… the RV doesn’t feel like home, either?”
Riley shook his head. “It’s… a house, but not a home. Home is about more than four walls. Home is about where you feel safe, where you feel like you belong. And I’m still looking for that. I’ve looked all over. I started going to Mexico because, y’know, my dad’s mom was from there…”
“I actually didn’t know that,” Brent said.
Riley paused.
How did Brent not know that?
“But… okay, on the day we met, I was crying my seven-year-old heart out and you just… came up and hugged me and gave me half your sandwich.”
Looking back, Riley was pretty sure that was the moment he’d fallen in love with Brent.
“Yeah, following you so far.” Brent nodded.
“That was because I was sad she’d died,” Riley said.
“Oh.” Brent blinked at him. “I don’t remember that part. I remember you crying. I remember thinking that I didn’t want you to be sad. Does kinda explain some things.”
Riley snorted. “I guess I never really talked about it. Like I said, I was seven when she died. And I feel like I lost an important part of myself by not having her to talk to, to learn from, but… when I went to find it, I realized just how lost it was. I expected to find what I was missing there, but all I’ve ever found is the feeling that I’m still missing it.”
The only place Riley had ever felt at peace was in Brent’s home. With Brent.
He wasn’t sure Brent would want to hear that, though. It was a lot of pressure to put on anyone, and Brent had more than enough pressure in his life at the moment.
“Do you need a hug?” Brent asked. “I can probably come up with half a sandwich, too.”
Riley laughed at that. He did kind of need a hug, but he also needed to finish what he was working on. “I just want to finish this.”
Brent looked over the porch, sweeping his gaze across everything Riley had done.
“You got any more sandpaper?” He asked after a moment.
It wasn’t the response Riley was expecting, but he understood it for what it was. It was acknowledgement that Brent had heard him, that he got what Riley was saying, that Brent wasn’t the only one who needed a friend right now.
Riley had needed a friend right now for years, but been too stubborn to reach out. Too afraid that if he let anyone get under his skin, he’d fall apart.
He trusted Brent, though. Brent was the best man he knew, and Riley was just beginning to think that maybe, maybe, he could let himself open up.
One quiet, impossible confession at a time, though.
“Sure.” Riley held out the pack of ten sheets he’d picked up to Brent. “But don’t you have other things to do?”
Brent took a sheet of sandpaper and folded it up the same way Riley had to get an edge he could use to get into the details. “I can’t do much until I know what’s happening with Tom and the business. Besides, it’s not exactly tax season right now.”
“So what are you expecting to happen with the business?” Riley asked. Brent hadn’t really talked about it except to say that it couldn’t go on the way it had before.
He was probably trying to seem calmer than he really was about the whole thing.
Losing a fiancée he didn’t really want to marry in the first place was one thing, losing his livelihood was another.
“I guess we’ll split it up, which is messy and not something I’m looking forward to. Or I could buy Tom out if I had the money, but I really don’t. Not unless I sell a kidney.”
“How much money are we talking?” Riley asked.
“I dunno. Maybe fifteen thousand, for the goodwill and the client list? Plus all the incidentals and whatever.”
“A kidney is not worth that. But it’s yours in exchange for doing my taxes for life.”
Brent blinked at him. “You want me to do your taxes for two hundred years?”
Riley shrugged. “I’m optimistic about my life expectancy, and my taxes are complicated. It’s probably only a hundred years’ worth of fees. And you undercharge.”
“I could have done your taxes for free. You’re my friend,” Brent said.
“And friends pay each other for their skills. I want to pay in advance.”
Brent wet his lips, starting on his side of the railing with the sandpaper. “But you’re not letting me repay you for fixing the porch up?”
“I’m doing this for my own personal fulfillment,” Riley argued. “It’s peaceful.”
Brent snorted. “I never could win an argument with you,” he said. “I don’t want your money.”
“I’m not giving it to you. I like the idea of not ever having to care about my tax returns again. Tax returns are boring. This is a wise investment for me.”
“I’m a wise investment?” Brent asked.
Riley looked up, another joke on the tip of his tongue, but he paused when he saw Brent’s face. Brent looked… flattered. No, honored.
He looked as if no one had ever said something like that to him before.
Without thinking, Riley reached out, touching Brent’s cheek lightly.
The I love you he desperately wanted to say caught in his throat.
Instead, he leaned in, brushing his lips against Brent’s, their noses bumping together as Riley tilted his head, putting just a little more pressure into the kiss.
He wanted to keep Brent. He wanted to keep Brent forever, and he would have traded everything he had to do it.
Unfortunately, Brent didn’t want anything he had, and Riley didn’t really have a whole lot to offer.
Not compared to any of the other people Brent could have in a heartbeat if he just asked them. Riley wasn’t even close to good enough for him.
That didn’t mean he was ready to stop, but he knew he had to brace himself to let go.
“You’re a very wise investment,” Riley murmured. “I’m lucky to have you.”
He was lucky to have Brent. Even for this brief, shining moment that could end at any time, he knew how lucky he was.
Even when his heart shattered because it was over, it would all be worth it.