Page 16 of Solid Foundation
I knocked a couple of times and waited for Jake to answer. When he did, swinging the door wide, wearing sweatpants and a relaxed T-shirt, I could barely cover my surprise. His hair was damp, and he looked like he’d just stepped out of the shower.He looked good, even better than he did on site in his hard hat and boots, and I had a feeling that I was going to end upverydistracted during our conversation. My face heated as I drank in his appearance, mesmerized by his softer casual look, while still looking like an absolute snack.
I glanced at my feet in an attempt to hide the fact that I was blushing. “Thanks for letting me stop by,” I said, trying to break the heavy silence between us.
The tips of his ears were pink as he blinked at me a couple of times. “No big deal.” Jake stepped aside to let me enter. “In my line of work, the job never stops.”
When I stepped into his house, I glanced around, taking it all in. The house had looked dated from the outside, but inside, it was fresh and new. There were light-stained hardwood floors, the walls were painted in fresh, modern colors, and the fireplace in the living room was surrounded by painted white brick. “Wow.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”
“This place is great. I mean, the decor is a little sparse, but it’s so nice. Very updated.”
“Did you think my house was going to look like the Collins house or something?”
“No,” I said in a hurry. “No. I don’t know what I was thinking. A cluttered bachelor pad maybe. Not this. But it’s really nice. Did you do all this work yourself?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, most of it. I’m a general contractor, so I can do most of the disciplines myself if I need to.”
“Well, it looks great. Really.” A beat passed, and he glanced at the thick folder I was holding. “I didn’t come here just to scope out your house, obviously. I wanted to talk about the letters, actually.”
His face froze. “Oh. Okay.”
“Can we sit down and talk about some of my thoughts?”
“Sure, whatever you want.” He led me into his living room, and we sat next to each other on the couch so I could spread my research out on the coffee table in front of us.
“So, I’ve spent a lot of evenings in the library lately.”
He frowned and furrowed his brow. “Why?”
“To see if I could figure out who the letter writers were. I figured I’d start with determining who owned the house last, and maybe work backward, but I haven’t had much luck there yet. I also checked out old local newspapers for the names in the letters, but without last names, it’s hard to find much.”
“You’ve put an awful lot of work into a handful of irrelevant old letters.”
“That’s the thing,” I said, picking up a newspaper clipping I’d copied. “I don’t think they’re irrelevant. They’re a part of the house’s history, and I want to see how we can tie that back to the work we’re doing. These two really loved each other. I’m hoping I can reach out to the other family and maybe they still have the corresponding letters.”
“Slim chance.”
“It’s just—” My throat tightened as I spoke. “They deserved to be able to love each other openly and freely, and they weren’t given that opportunity. I want to do right by them.” I rubbed my palms on my thighs, trying to release the anxious energy I’d built up.
Jake was still for a long moment, and just when I opened my mouth to apologize for my outburst, he put his hand on mine. When he spoke, his tone was soft, almost a whisper. “It’s okay. I get it.”
Exhaling slowly, I waited to see if he’d pull his hand away, but he didn’t move. When I looked at him, his gaze met mine and he swallowed hard. We were quiet and still for a few seconds before Jake’s gaze wavered. Instead of meeting mine, he glanced at mymouth, sliding his tongue out to wet his lower lip. It felt like an invitation, and I seized my opportunity.
I took a deep breath and leaned toward Jake, moving my free hand to rest on the side of his neck and pulling him in. He didn’t resist at all, coming in close. I was sure he’d pull away at the last second, but I was wrong. Instead, he shut his eyes and allowed me to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He opened to me and our tongues moved together. His breath hitched as the kiss slowly unfolded, delicate and tender.
There were fireworks going off inside of me as we kissed, my body heating as Jake moved his hand to my waist. His fingers gripped the fabric of my shirt, making a fist and drawing me closer. We kissed for what could have been an eternity or just for a few delicious seconds, but eventually, we pulled apart, Jake’s breathing shaky as we made eye contact again. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what. I wanted his tongue against mine again, to feel the soft scratch of his stubble against my face as we kissed, to breathe his scent in deeply.
As we parted, I looked at him, trying to gauge how he felt, where his mind was. His eyes were wide with what seemed to be panic. Maybe I had misread all of the signals I thought he’d sent me indicating he was interested. He was probably straight and I’d just read everything wrong. The hand touching was probably just a comforting gesture, not a come-on.
The warmth in my body turned sour and words tumbled from my mouth, unfiltered. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” I scooped up my papers all at once and tucked them into the folder. “I’ll see you Monday.” With that, I rushed out of his house and to my car, before he could say another word.
Chapter Nine
Jake
Isat in stunned silence as I watched Max flee my house, my gut churning with a mix of emotions. Uncertainty and regret warred inside of me as I tried to clear my head and make it all make sense. He’d kissed me, I’d kissed him back, and I’d liked it. I’d liked ita lot. In the days we’d been working together, I’d recognized my growing attraction to Max, but I’d never expected to act on it. I didn’t know what had possessed me—I’d seen his hand resting there, listening to him get choked up over the letters, and my body had just…reacted. I’d reached out to comfort him, but the moment we’d touched, I knew I wanted more.
What would happen if I let him in? I’d have to come out, to accept that people might reject or judge me. My friends… they’d accept it, I was sure of that. My boss wouldn’t care. He’d been openly gay for a long time and he was married to a bisexual man. But knowing all that and accepting my own attraction to Max meant not only coming out, but losing a sense of privacy. Iwas happy with my image as the reclusive, grumpy construction worker. Did I want to change that?
