Rebuild My Heart Page 4

  “Nowhere you’ve heard of. A little holler near Barbourville by the name of Bailey Switch, population so small it didn’t even figure in the 2010 census.” And every last one of them was his father’s disciple. If he never saw another copperhead or cottonmouth in his life, it would be too soon. He suppressed the shudder that ran through him. Even now, the thought of those snakes coiling around the altar made him flinch.

  “I guess you’re glad to be out of there?” Kit asked.

  “You have no idea how glad. How long have you been in Lexington? You mentioned Louisville.” Teenage boys liked to talk about themselves, right? That would distract Kit.

  “Not quite two years. We moved in with Uncle Thane right before Christmas, after Mom died. He and Uncle Blake are great and all, but I’d give anything to go back, even for a few more hours.”

  “You’re lucky to have a mom and two uncles who love you so much,” Owen said softly. He wondered about the boys’ father, but Owen had already hit one sore spot. He didn’t want to hit any more. “Not all kids get so lucky.”

  “Like you?” Kit asked in the same quiet tone.

  Owen shrugged, trying to come up with an answer that would satisfy Kit but not give too much away. Before he could, Derek stuck his head out the door—with his shirt back in place, thankfully. “Break time’s over, Kit. We have work to do.”

  “Coming. See ya, Owen.”

  “YOU’VE really hit it off with Owen,” Derek said as he and Kit went back to the basement, where he’d left Phillip to pull out the pipes they needed to install for the plumbing in the new bathroom and kitchen. Derek had to do something to keep his focus on work and not on Owen and the turquoise-blue hair that had replaced the pink or today’s outfit, as loud—and as tailored—as all the others had been. Someone was clearly bent on destroying Derek’s sanity.

  Kit groaned when he saw the pile of pipes. “Uncle Thane isn’t paying me enough. Just saying.”

  “He’s paying you a damn sight better than you’d make flipping burgers at McDonald’s, and you’d be working just as hard there.”

  Kit grumbled but joined Phillip next to the pipes. Derek sent Phillip to work on the bathroom, keeping Kit in the kitchen with him.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Derek said as he picked up a piece of pipe for the sink and started fitting it together.

  “You didn’t ask a question. You made an observation.”

  “Blake is rubbing off on you,” Derek muttered. He tried to figure out how to frame his next comment so he’d learn what he needed to know without giving too much away. “Every time I turn around, you’re upstairs chatting with him. You aren’t developing a crush on him, are you?”

  “Of course not! I have a boyfriend, but he’s nice to me,” Kit said. “And he’s gay, but talking to him isn’t like talking to Uncle Thane and Uncle Blake.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re all settled and old… and married,” Kit explained.

  Derek couldn’t argue with that. God, were they ever married! If anyone had told him two years ago that two teens and a frumpy high school principal could reduce hardass Thane Dalton to a marshmallow, Derek would have laughed in their faces. He’d have been wrong.

  “Plus,” Kit continued, “they try to be cool about it—and it’s not like Uncle Thane has room to talk. I know what kind of reputation he had. But anytime I start to talk about Trevor, they try to turn it into a safe sex talk or a consent talk or whatever. I mean, I like him, but we aren’t ready for that yet.”

  Derek snorted. “You’re a seventeen-year-old boy. Don’t give me that shit.”

  Kit turned on Derek, belligerence in every tense line of his body. “You’re as bad as they are. Even Phillip thinks I’m having sex with him. Owen just listens to what I have to say instead of assuming or lecturing or pushing me to confide in him when there’s nothing to tell. I’m only seventeen. I’m not in any hurry to leap into something there’s no undoing. What part of that doesn’t anyone understand?”

  Derek raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Kit said, throwing the pipe on the floor. He stormed out of the room and toward the stairs. Derek took a step to follow him, but Phillip shook his head.

  “Give him a few minutes to calm down, and then I’ll go talk to him. You know how he gets when he’s upset. Great big blowup, and then ten minutes later, it’s like it never happened.”

  “He has a job to do.”

  “So do we, and it doesn’t include giving him the third degree about his boyfriend,” Phillip pointed out. “And Kit may be seventeen, but Trevor is only fifteen. Everyone forgets Kit’s the youngest in our class. Yeah, I give him shit about his boyfriend because he gives it right back to me, but it’s only teasing. I guess we’ve all taken it a little too far.”

  What did it say about any of them when the only person who got it was a client who’d known Kit for two days? He needed to talk to Thane and Blake, and then he needed to talk to Kit. He also had to decide what to do about Owen. Anyone who took the time to listen to Kit and win him over had a good spot in Derek’s book. Add to that the growing attraction he’d felt since they met—and Owen’s reaction to seeing him shirtless—and Derek might actually have a chance.

  Chapter Five

  OWEN closed out the till and put the cash and receipts in the safe. He’d deal with the paperwork tomorrow. Right now, he wanted a cold beer—never mind what his father would say about alcohol—a piping hot pizza, and his bed, not necessarily in that order, but first he had to call his brother. It was his nephew Jeremiah’s birthday, and even though he was sure what his brother’s reaction would be, he always tried to call on his nieces’ and nephews’ birthdays.

  He found his cell phone and pulled up his brother’s contact.

  No, beer first. Then he’d call. He’d need the liquid courage.

  He pulled a beer from the fridge, popped the cap, and took a long swig. Then he tapped the icon to call his brother.

  It rang three times before Nathaniel answered. “What do you want, Uriel?”

  Owen sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you my name is Owen now?”

  “Uriel was good enough for God’s archangel. It’s good enough for you. What do you want?”

  “To wish Jeremiah a happy birthday.”

  “Have you forsaken your sins and are you ready to return to the loving fold of the church?”

  “You know the answer to that as well.”

  “Then you are dead to us.” The line went dead, and Owen only resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room because he didn’t have the money to replace it right now. He knew this would happen. He knew it, and yet he couldn’t seem to stop hoping it would be different the next time. Surely one day, one of his brothers would wake up and realize how closed-minded they were and accept he was still their brother even if he no longer lived under their father’s thumb.

  Fuck it. Yes, Father, fuck it. I’m not bound by your rules anymore. He took another long gulp of his beer and went to make sure he’d locked the front of the shop. Either he had or Mel had remembered on her way out, so all that remained was to order pizza and get rip-roaring drunk. He walked back into the kitchen to find Derek standing there.

  Stars and garters, he’d forgotten they were still there. “Did you need something?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about Kit,” Derek began.

  “Not you too,” Owen snapped. He’d had it with this day even before Derek brought up whatever load of horse hooey he had on his mind. Nathaniel had hung up before Owen could give him a piece of his mind, but Derek was right there, asking for it. “What is it with everyone? I’m gay. That doesn’t make me a pedophile or whatever other kind of sick, twisted excuse for a human being you think I am!”

  “What the hell, Owen?” Derek replied sharply. “How do you get from talking about Kit to me accusing you of anything?”

  “Because nobody ever
wants the fag around kids, and if the kid is already leaning that way, it’s even worse. I know your type. I’ve heard it all before.”

  “I don’t know what ‘type’ you think I am, but I’m bi, as is my best friend and business partner, and he’s married to another man. Accusing me of thinking the worst of you when you’re doing the same of me is pretty damn rich.”

  Owen ran his hand through his hair as he struggled to rein in his temper. Leroy had used being bi as an excuse for everything from how long it took him to leave his wife to his incessant flirting with women and his refusal to come out before Owen had grown a pair and left him, but that wasn’t Derek’s fault. “Look, it’s been a really shitty”—he made himself say it—“fifteen minutes, and I took it out on you. My family….”

  He couldn’t make himself finish the sentence. He hadn’t told anyone but Mel the whole nasty story of his family and their falling-out. He owed Derek an apology, but he was still mostly a stranger.

  “Enough said,” Derek said to Owen’s surprise, breaking the tension between them with a smile. “Nobody pisses me off like my stepmother, so I get it. If you want to talk about it….”

  Owen shook his head, but the offer and the accompanying tentative smile—the very attractive tentative smile; no, Owen, don’t go there—went a long way toward easing the throbbing in his temples. Derek would have been within his rights to demand an explanation after the way Owen acted, but he hadn’t. Instead he’d given Owen a pass and a reminder that he didn’t have the monopoly on difficult relatives. He wondered what Derek’s stepmother did to annoy him so much, but since he wasn’t willing to talk about his own family issues, he didn’t press Derek for more information either.

  “You wanted to ask me something about Kit?”

  “Actually I wanted to thank you for something about Kit,” Derek said. “He really likes you, and it seems like right now, you’re the only person he feels is listening to him. So thank you for that. Phillip is so pragmatic. We’ll never have to worry about him. But Kit has this really tender underbelly, for all he hides it behind his casual cheer. He’s dated a little before now, but this is his first serious relationship.”

  “And everyone is making it a thing,” Owen concluded.

  “We just want him to be safe and happy,” Derek said.

  Of course they did. That was what normal families wanted for their children.

  “I’m sure he knows, but he doesn’t need a lecture, and he doesn’t need teasing. He’s a good kid with a good head on his shoulders. If he wants advice, he knows he has people he can get it from. His uncles, his brother, you. But right now, he just wants someone to hear him.”

  Derek shook his head. “How did you know?”

  Because it was all Owen had ever wanted and the one thing he’d never gotten.

  “Isn’t that what we all want?”

  “You know, you may be right. Do you have time for a quick rundown on where we are with the remodel?”

  “Sure,” Owen said. He needed to know anyway, but he recognized an olive branch when one waved in his face.

  “We finished installing the pipes for the kitchen and bathroom today. We’ll run the gas lines for the stove and oven tomorrow. Once the gas company does their inspection, we can start framing in the walls. We want the kitchen to be ready when the cabinets and countertops come in.”

  “I have them all picked out,” Owen said. “I’m just waiting on the go-ahead to have them delivered. And some friends from the yoga studio said they’ll come help me move when we get to that point, so I can probably get it done in a weekend.”

  “Yoga, huh?” Derek said, giving Owen a thorough once-over.

  “I need some kind of stress relief,” Owen replied, trying to keep his tone even. Derek hadn’t sounded derisive, so Owen didn’t need to be defensive. Too many men Owen had known treated yoga like it was for girls or weaklings or fags. He hoped Derek wouldn’t be one of them.

  “I’ve always gotten mine by pounding nails, but hey, whatever works, right? As long as you aren’t hurting anyone—and I see no reason yoga would hurt anyone but maybe yourself—how you relax isn’t anyone else’s business.”

  “You should try it sometime.” The words were out of Owen’s mouth before he could stop them, the relief at Derek’s acceptance overriding Owen’s reserve.

  “You offering to teach me?”

  “Why not?” Owen said. “You can come to the studio with me.”

  “And if I want a more… private demonstration?”

  “Then I’ll tell you to work on your lines, because that one’s about as lame as they come, Jackson.”

  Derek laughed, not exactly the reaction Owen had been going for. The deep, rich sound rubbed along his skin, making him shiver. He hoped Derek wouldn’t notice, but he should’ve known better. “Then how about this one? Have dinner with me?”

  Well, that was direct. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” Derek asked.

  Owen looked down at his brightly colored trendy clothes and back at Derek in his beaten-up cargo pants and sweaty T-shirt. “I’m not entirely sure I’m your type.”

  “That’s for me to decide, isn’t it? All you need to decide is if I’m your type.”

  Jeez o Pete, if Derek was his type? Derek was a poster child for Owen’s type. Of course that had always been the problem, because his type didn’t usually want to be seen with someone so obviously gay. He was fine for a quick tumble, but not to take home to Mother.

  “I….”

  “You don’t have to tell me now. It’s not like I’m dressed to take you out tonight anyway. Think about it for a day or two. Maybe we can try for this weekend.”

  “Okay,” Owen said. He’d think about it. He’d see how things went the next few days, and he’d go from there. Just because his last boyfriend had been a cheating son of a mother who never saw Owen as anything more than his dirty little secret didn’t mean Derek would act the same way.

  Derek leaned in, surprising Owen with his nearness, and kissed Owen’s cheek. “Have a good evening, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He left the kitchen before Owen could figure out how to react.

  DEREK hummed to himself as he walked out to his truck. Kit and Phillip had driven separately because they had a theater planning meeting at Henry Clay that night with Blake and the other theater sponsor. The boys had been voted as stage managers for the upcoming year, which meant helping with a lot more of the planning as well as the execution. Derek had snickered a little at how proud Thane was after all the comments he had made about them being involved in theater when they first moved in with him, but even Derek could see how good it had been for them.

  He’d razzed them about it when they left, but now he was glad because it had given him the chance to talk with Owen alone. The conversation had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start, but his lips still tingled with the hint of stubble on Owen’s cheek, and he could still smell the subtle hint of Owen’s cologne. It wasn’t one he recognized, but then, he wouldn’t recognize most men’s colognes anyway, other than his father’s Old Spice.

  He couldn’t help but be curious about what had happened with Owen’s family to leave him so touchy when he was usually so shy, but he’d save that for another time when they knew each other better. If Owen brought it up, he’d listen, of course, but he’d let it come naturally.

  Speaking of coming naturally, he still marveled at how well Owen dealt with Kit. It made him wonder if Owen had younger brothers or cousins, something to give him the experience to know what Kit needed. He could maybe ask that question. It wasn’t as intrusive as pressing for details about why Owen had argued with his family.

  Derek’s phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Derek. How are you?”

  “Hi, Brian. I’m fine. What’s up?”

  “I called to tell you I finally convinced Paula to give me another chance. But I promised her no more family stuff unless it was a
bigger gathering. Easier to avoid Marlene’s attention that way.”

  “Yeah, the more people she has to drive insane, the less likely she is to focus on any one person,” Derek agreed. “There aren’t any big birthdays or anything coming up.”

  “There’s Fourth of July,” Brian reminded him.

  “Have fun with that. I’ll be with Thane and the boys. I already promised I’d help them set off fireworks.”

  “You bastard,” Brian said. “You always find ways to get out of family shit.”

  “You just need to meet more people. Then you can find previous commitments too.”

  “You could invite me to Thane’s party.”

  “You’re too old for us.”

  “One of these days, little bro, that joke is going to get old.”

  Not likely, but Derek just laughed before turning serious. “Do you need somewhere to go? Thane and Blake wouldn’t care if you and Paula came. There’s always a crowd.”

  “Nah, we’ll figure something else out. Paula was talking about going to see the fireworks from the Arboretum. That’s more than enough for me.”

  “Have fun, and say hi to Paula for me.”

  “I will.”

  They said goodbye, and he drove to Thane’s. He parked in front of Thane’s house and grabbed the six-pack he’d picked up on the way over. Thane probably had beer already, but Derek didn’t like coming over empty-handed. He’d learned a few things from his mother despite Marlene’s best efforts to erase every trace of her.

  Damn, he was in a mood tonight. Talking about her with Owen and then with Brian had done a number on his brain, apparently.

  “What’s with the look on your face?” Thane asked as he opened the door.

  “Marlene.”

  Thane rolled his eyes. “What’s the bitch done this time?”

  “Nothing new. Just making Brian’s life difficult,” Derek said.

  “How’s the bookstore rehab going?”

  Derek gave Thane the same rundown he’d given Owen, with a few technical details added. “Owen seems pleased with the progress. He has friends who can help him move into the basement as soon as it’s done.”