Chapter 16

Tommy slammed the back of his pickup shut, feeling it lock into place. He stood there momentarily, looking at the house. He had always admired the lake house and loved it from afar. He’d had plans to buy it but the agent he was working with had told him it had been sold to some hack from Boston.

Oh well, at least I can enjoy working on it. But if the new owner thought he would rip it apart and make it look like garbage—make it look ultramodern—he was out of his goddamn mind.

He turned his head and looked out across the lake at the still water. Even though he loved this house, he hated that lake. Ever since he was little, it made him feel strange. When his parents had taken him down there, he’d refused to get into the water. From the moment he set foot in it, he just had this deep-down feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was terribly wrong. He’d actually had nightmares about it as a child—hell, not just as a child, but sometimes as an adult.

The nightmares consisted of wading out into the water alone, and when he looked down, he could see drowned people floating underneath the surface of the water. Men and women just floated by like fish, drifting hair obscuring their faces, eyes closed, until they caught him staring at them and then their eyes opened. Their mouths would open too, in soundless shrieks. He shuddered at the memories of those nightmares and turned his attention to the back of his truck.

Tommy Law was not well liked in town, and most people avoided him. Standing at over six-foot-tall, with a shaved head and a gruff demeanor, people thought he was either a skinhead or a biker. He didn’t much appreciate either description. He was, in fact, a former army ranger. He’d worked Special Ops for about fifteen years and had deployed to countless places, countless shit holes throughout the world. Now he was retired, he just wanted to sit back and enjoy life, and Maplewood had that effect on people.

He still kept in great shape; his body was toned, and he was built like a quarterback. He kept up his army days physique by lugging around wheelbarrows full of cinderblock and other masonry. His large callused hands were rough from years of handling rifles and digging trenches, and they were kept that way by wood working and lugging around five-gallon paint buckets. Washing his hands in turpentine to get the paint off, didn’t help much for that matter. Women were attracted to them, and when one was brave enough to venture into his territory, trying to catch his eye, he would be friendly and sometimes even bed them. Yet when it came to the relationship stuff, he just couldn’t do it, though the longest one he’d had was with Suzie, the waitress at the diner.

He hated that he had broken Suzie’s heart. It made her cry, and what surprised him even more was that he had cried too. He felt a hole inside of him that seemed unreachable, a loneliness that simply couldn’t be satiated by food, drink, or flesh. He figured the years behind enemy lines, of rolling deep into troubled territory, cut him off from other people and other normal things that people enjoyed in their lives. Normal things like starting a family, building a home, and a future. So, Tommy lived, ate, and slept alone. The irony was that if those people only knew how afraid he was of the water, they would never be afraid of him anymore.

He marched up the front steps and knocked heavily on the door. He heard movement inside and finally footsteps before the door clicked unlocked. It swung open and Tommy laid eyes on Hayden for the first time. The young man was handsome, with blond hair and green eyes, and something about him made Tommy hesitate for a second. He wasn’t sure what it was, just a tingle in the back of his head.

Hayden smiled broadly, something that made that tingle even worse, and extended his hand. “You must be Tommy. Hi, I’m Hayden. Won’t you come in?” he asked, stepping aside.

“Hi back. Sure,” Tommy replied. The inside of the house was warm compared to the blustery fall day. From what he could see, Hayden was waiting on him to do whatever needed doing. Furniture was clustered in piles in the middle of floors, covered in sheets. Nothing was hung up yet, and the kitchen seemed to be the only place where things were in some state of put-togetherness.

Tommy walked past him into the kitchen, where the aroma of coffee wafted towards him.

When he passed Hayden, who was still holding the door, Hayden’s eyes grew wide at the sheer size of the man. He was muscular, no doubt about it, but not in the way pretty boys were. No, this guy was solid in the get in my way and there won’t be anything left of you sort of way. Sheesh, Hayden thought to himself. He now wished that Terri and Amanda had come a day earlier. He hated to admit it, but he felt sort of intimidated by the sheer presence of the man.

Hayden followed him into the kitchen. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Sure, that would be great.”

“How do you take it?”

“Black.”

Black. Of course, he did. As Hayden poured cups for the both of him, making his black also, he watched Tommy looking around his kitchen. He had spent the morning lining cabinet drawers with paper and putting dishes and pots away. He had worked up a pretty good sweat too and was suddenly self-conscious about the way he looked. He snorted at that thought. What the hell does this guy care what you look like? He carried Tommy’s cup over to him and handed it over.

Tommy took the cup, grateful for the warmth of the liquid; the days had become chilly now, and his feet and his hands were always cold.

“Can I take you on the tour and show you what I would like doing?”

“Lead the way.”

Hayden nodded and, coffee cup in hand, headed into the first room. He had dealt with jackass cops before, as a lawyer, and sometimes they were worse than the criminals he had to prosecute. The machismo rolling off them was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was usually all fluff, and when they gave him hell, he would turn the world around on them when he got them on the witness stand.

Tommy followed Hayden, listening to him talk. He was surprised at how friendly he was and was also aware of Hayden watching him out of the corner of his eye. Nothing creepy, mind you. Just cautious. When the realtor told him that an ex lawyer had bought the house, he figured that it was probably some sort lawyer who made an ass-load of cash and was going to flaunt it around. He didn’t think that was the case with Hayden, though. Looking at the furniture, he could see that some of it was really expensive, and he had money, no doubt, but he looked edgier, watchful, like someone who had worked criminal cases.

He admired the house as well. He loved the minor details that had been maintained or added by the last tenants. The wooden floors, the sconces, and the crown molding were all indicative of people who took great care in their home. The kitchen was the same way, with brick backsplashes and granite countertops. He could see where there some repair work was needed. Some of the molding was coming off, and there seemed to be some water damage in one corner of a room, and a banister railing was loose on their way up the stairs. He hoped this was the extent of the work that needed to be done and not what he had feared earlier. If so, this was going to be the shortest contractor interview this guy had ever conducted.

“So, what can I help you with, Hayden?” Tommy asked. He wanted to get to the point directly and not pussy foot around. If he’s going to tell me to knock down walls or something, I swear I’m leaving right now.

“Well, I want to keep the integrity of the house intact. These old homes have a great deal of personality and character,” Hayden started, “but it does need some structural work. I’ve found a few places where the drywall needs replacing, and I think the wiring needs to be redone. Some of the light switches don’t work. The cosmetic stuff, like painting and tile work, I can do myself, if need be, but I wouldn’t mind a hand with that, too. It’s just me in this massive house, and I would like to have it done before the next millennium.” Hayden laughed and then stopped. He’d just told this guy he lived alone. You dumbass, Hayden thought.

Tommy nodded, wondering why Hayden had stopped laughing so suddenly. It sounded really open and natural, but when he cut himself off the effect was that of a braying donkey. He left it alone, however.

“How are the pipes?” Tommy inquired as they came back down the stairs. Hayden explained that all of that had been replaced by the former tenants a few years back. As they walked and talked more about what needed to be restored, Tommy found himself impressed by the amount of knowledge that Hayden had about homes.

“Were you in the business of refurbishing homes?” he asked, reaching out to test one of the light switches that Hayden had pointed out. He was right; it didn’t work, and from the empty light bulb cartridges on the floor, he knew he wasn’t simply dealing with a blown-out bulb and an airhead who didn’t know the difference.

He followed Hayden back into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Outside, clouds had started to roll in, casting the world in shades of gray; the water also took on an ominous black look that made Tommy shudder again. The clouds were thick and dark, angry looking, and Tommy knew it would rain soon.

“No, my partner Malcolm was. I am—was—an attorney in Boston,” Hayden said, following Tommy’s eyes out into the darkening day. At the mention of a partner, Tommy turned and looked back at Hayden. There was a slight change in tone when Hayden had mentioned his partner that indicated to Tommy that the partnership wasn’t business. It was only a slight lowering, and most people wouldn’t have noticed it, but Tommy had spent years interrogating and studying human behavior and knew what changes like that meant.

He took another sip of the coffee he had been handed. The gay thing didn’t bother him at all. He knew gays in the military, both men and women. He didn’t judge anyone on what they were—he judged them on how well they got their job done. He was hardly ever disappointed with them.

Hayden shifted a little in his chair. Tommy was watching him intently. Does he have a problem with gay people? God, I hope not—that’s all I need. Yet, something inside him told him no, this guy just heard everything someone said and how they said it.

“You seem too nice to be a lawyer,” Tommy stated, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked, Hayden laughed. “Yeah, I have my moments. What about you? Fed or military?”

Tommy was pleasantly surprised again. He realized slowly that Hayden was someone not to be underestimated. He liked that. “Army ranger. Ten years. You’re good.” Tommy smiled. Hayden grinned back, and that buzzing in the back of Tommy’s head started again.

He really liked talking to this guy, and Hayden found Tommy easy to talk to as well. Hayden could see how some people might be intimidated—hell, downright frightened—by the guy, but after dealing with some of the bullshit he had to deal with in Boston, it was easy to get down to the nitty-gritty with people like Tommy. They were more real, more honest, than most people you would ever meet. He still had his reservations about him, but he trusted him for the most part. Especially finding out this guy used to be in the military. And before either one of them knew it, they had talked for a couple of hours over cold cups of coffee.

Finally, Tommy’s cellphone went off, and he paused to answer it. They had discussed the cost of the work, and Tommy found himself underbidding just so he could have the opportunity to work on such a magnificent old house. Hayden agreed to the payment, and they would start right away. He was going to work through the weekend, right along with Terri and Amanda, who had volunteered their time. Hayden made sure to pick up enough groceries and enough wine to compensate them. He wondered what the girls would think of Tommy when they met him.

Tommy stood up and looked at his watch. Apparently, he had missed an appointment and was apologizing to his mom on the telephone. He went on and on about how time had gotten away from him and that he would be right there.

“Right. Right, Mom, I know. Reflections on the Lake, gotcha. Be there in min…no, no girl, Mom. Just a job,” he explained into the phone. Hayden thought it was sweet that this guy was so polite to his mother. Having been in foster care most of his life, he’d never had a real family until Malcolm. Yet he felt a pang at being described as “just a job.” A pang of what, he wasn’t really sure.

Tommy was handsome, in a very plain way. His face was rugged, his icy blue eyes watchful. His lips were thin but he had a strong jaw, and he seemed to envelop the room in his presence. Hayden felt his face flush a little and that tug in his trousers. He instantly felt ashamed at the idea, thinking about Malcolm. Besides, in the dictionary, under the word “straight” was a picture of this guy. Tommy hung up the phone and grinned sheepishly. He has dimples… Shut up! Those are straight dimples.

“Okay. Sorry about that,” Tommy apologized. He stood up to go.

Hayden stood up with him and walked him to the door. “So, eight a.m. tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll be here. Thanks again for the coffee,” Tommy said, walking out and down the stairs.

Hayden closed the door behind him, and Tommy took one last glance back. The buzzing in his head had stopped when the phone rang, but now it was back. He didn’t know what to think of that, so he decided not to for a while and jumped in the truck and sped off to meet his mom for dinner.