A Better Man (The Men of Halfway House) (8 page)

"Will do," he said with a half smile as Matt left the room.

Julian took another sip of his water and ran the cold bottle against his forehead then the back of his neck. He needed to keep it together. Matt unsettled him to the point where he had a hard time keeping himself in check. Speaking of hard… "Down boy," he muttered as he pressed his palm to the front of his jeans.

He put the water on the window sill and continued with his work. He needed to find a way to detach, to keep it business as usual. The problem was he didn't want to. After his little sledgehammer swing session with Matt, he was screwed. Now he knew how it felt to be pressed against Matt's body. He wanted to know what it felt like to run his fingers through Matt's hair, pin Matt's body against his and anything else, a bed, a wall—he didn't care. Just anything to feel the pressure of Matt's body against his again to see if Matt would get that same flustered look Julian was becoming addicted to. He tried to shake off the visual forming in his mind. He needed to distance himself. His head was telling him one thing and every other cell in his body screamed otherwise.

"I'm so fucked," he said as he grabbed the sledgehammer and began to smash into the remaining section of the standing wall.

* * * *

"Do you need me to check up on you more often?" Sam asked in a teasing tone on his way out the front door.

Matt tried to look surprised. "What are you talking about?" He was unable to meet Sam's eyes.

"It's kinda obvious," Sam said softly.

Sam's consoling hand on his shoulder couldn't ease his embarrassment.

"Ugh, I've got a problem, Sam," he said and hid his face in his hands.

"Hey, it's okay. It's been a while so it might be a good thing. Besides, I'm getting the feeling it's mutual so I think it's a good thing."

Matt quickly removed his hands and looked at Sam as a hint of hope began to rise in him. "You think?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, man. Totally."

Matt smiled. "I figured he was gay, but I didn't think he was attracted to me." He looked at Sam thoughtfully. "What did I miss?" he asked the always insightful Sam.

Sam just shook his head. "You know, sometimes you boys just shock the hell out of me and try to find some deeper mystery when things are right there in front of you. As plain as the nose on your face," he said as he tapped Matt's nose with his finger for emphasis.

Matt looked at him and began to get frustrated. He couldn't figure it out. He'd known Julian now for a few days, and sure, they'd had a few unusual moments but those had been in the early hours with the initial power struggle between them. Here he was, hoping Julian was at least a tiny bit attracted to him, but he didn't have a clue. Yet Sam was so positive, certain, the attraction was mutual.

"What the fuck did I miss?" he asked, following Sam to his car.

Sam laughed as he sat in the driver's seat. He just shook his head and said, "It's mutual, Matt. The both of you couldn't hide your hard-ons if you tried."

Matt just stood there in the middle of the street for a moment after Sam drove away. How could he have missed that?
Damn
. He walked back toward the house with his mind racing. It did seem as if something had passed between them upstairs just a little while ago. When Sam had made that comment about Julian being the
right guy
, it had almost sounded as if Sam was implying something else. When Matt looked up and saw Julian's gaze on him, he couldn't help but smile. He had been so mesmerized by Julian's stare he hadn't realized he was standing in the middle of the room staring until Sam had cleared his throat.

Then the water.
Shit
. When their fingers had brushed, a surge of heat traveled like a tidal wave throughout his body. Julian's gaze was as steady as his. But when he'd wrapped his lips around the bottle to take a drink, all Matt could imagine was Julian wrapping his lips around something else, and it sure as hell wasn't a water bottle. He'd needed to leave the room before he lost his composure and did something completely different than
keeping it business
.

Another crash came from upstairs. He stood there, debating if he should go up and help. He entered the house and started to make his way to the stairs but stopped. This situation had to stay professional. He closed his eyes as he battled with himself, a white-knuckle grip on the railing kept him in place. He finally let out the breath he was holding, opened his eyes, and released the railing. He looked up one last time before turning around and heading to his makeshift office.

He had to finish this place. For Liam, his aunt, and himself. He needed to regain control of his life and define who Matt Doner was. He'd left the old self behind the day his freedom returned and he had changed his last name. The question was…who was he going to become? That should be his focus right now. Building this halfway house was important, and he was going to make sure he didn't screw this up by going after the one builder who was willing to work on his terms.

He was determined to get this renovation completed within the year. He wanted it finished by around this time next year in memory of Liam. With a renewed sense of responsibility, he sat at his desk and started running the numbers on the various accounts and estimates. He was going to do this and put everything else aside that would inhibit the completion of the renovation. Even if what he was putting aside was upstairs and possibly mutual.

* * * *

Within the first week, Julian had managed to get follow-up permits, fix the two patches in the roof, and replace the broken windows. With power in a portion of the house, he could finally plug in a few lamps and fans. Never had Matt appreciated electricity more than when he was able to walk around in the evening without stumbling over the uneven floor or getting splinters in his hands from a rough edge he couldn't see. The combination of electricity and running water…well, hell, it felt as if he had won the lottery. He wasn't sure how Julian had managed to do it all within a week, but one thing was certain, when Julian was determined, it was damn near impossible to find a more dedicated person.

Since Sam had mentioned the potential
mutual
situation, Matt started noticing a few details. How Julian's gaze lingered a little longer than usual and how he smiled at him every time Matt ran his fingers through his hair. He tried to keep their conversations short and businesslike, but sometimes he just wanted to linger and be around Julian. They'd occasionally take a break down to the coffee shop or simply sit and relax for a few minutes in the backyard. They talked about the renovation's progress and what was next on the agenda. Even though they kept their chats to the construction, never discussing anything personal, it was causal, nice. There was something comforting about being in Julian's presence. He was no longer intimidating, rather he had a calming effect. Matt felt safer than he had for some time. He felt he could be himself.

He sat at his desk and sighed as he thought about what had happened yesterday. In an attempt to be around Julian for a while, he'd offered his help with some of the drywall upstairs.

"Come here," Julian said.

Matt, being the obedient assistant, did as ordered.

Julian unexpectedly reached up. "You've got something here," he said as he pulled at the side of Matt's locks. He showed him a small piece of a white substance, evidence of what he had removed. Then Julian ran his fingers through Matt's hair a few times slowly, claiming there was more 'construction crap' in it.

Construction crap, dirt, dust, he didn't give a shit. It felt great to have Julian's fingers in his hair. But Julian abruptly stopped. "There you go," he said rather hoarsely then turned to continue working on the wall he was rebuilding. Moment over. Matt still remembered the sensation of Julian's touch. Soft, caressing, not harsh or rough as one would expect with his appearance.

He sighed and tried to focus on the spreadsheets in front of him. Everything was moving along rather nicely. He finally had the money from the sale of his condo and the project was going as planned. Somewhat. He weighed the pros and cons of pushing things with Julian. He just couldn't do it. Things were great between them and the renovation was on schedule. He hoped the trend would continue even though the situation with Julian was slowly wearing away at him.

Chapter 8

July

Matt continued to work on the state government paperwork as he tried to ignore the vibrating cell phone that danced across his desk again. Even though the call was expected, he didn't have the heart to answer it just yet. He grabbed the phone after it quieted and looked at the display—one voice mail and four missed calls.

He sighed. He figured it might be safe to start with the voice mail. He swiped his finger across the screen a few times and heard the familiar tinny voice through the ear piece.

"Happy birthday, Matt," his brother's voice began.

Matt fidgeted with the ends of the paper, trying to busy himself as he listened to the hesitation in his brother's voice. He knew the tone. His brother still harbored guilt for what had happened.

"I…um…just wanted to call to wish you a happy birthday. Shit, uh, I said that already. Um…I hope you're okay. I just wanted to talk to you and maybe work something out where we can see each other. I know it's been a few years, but…I…fuck, Matt…I hate this stupid machine. Just don't shut me out, okay? I want to see you and try to make things right. I stopped drinking and I'm trying to…I'm trying…Matt, just please call me. Okay? I miss my brother…happy birthday," he finished quietly, losing his stamina.

Matt ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled deeply. He hadn't seen his brother in years, outside a few random visits while in prison. With each visit, the guilt grew heavier for his brother until Matt finally asked him to stop coming by. He had made his decision based on what he thought was best at the time, and all he wanted for his brother was for him to clean up his act, stop the drinking, and focus on being the man Matt knew he could be. Now that Matt was out of prison and his brother sober, he was worried about reuniting with him—worried it would send his brother in another tailspin of guilt and return him to the bottle that had played such a role in his downfall.

His frustration was at an all time high. Family had always been so important to him and he just didn't know how to handle things now after so much change in the last five years. More than anything, Matt had changed. He felt as if a veil had been lifted and his tolerance was no longer what it was.

Matt exhaled when his cell vibrated again. He could no longer avoid the call. Resigned, he finally swiped his finger across the screen and answered.

"Hi," he said.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," his mother responded.

"Thanks, Mom."

"Something odd is happening with the phone. I wasn't able to get through on the first try."

"I seem to have poor reception where I'm at," Matt lied.

"I had my driver take me by your apartment to bring you your gift but your apartment is empty," she said with a hint of accusation in her tone.

Matt rubbed his eyes, trying to stave off the headache that began to form. He had hoped the call would be quick and painless, but who was he kidding. He should have known better. "I moved, Mom."

"Where?"

"Closer to work."

"Matthew, you should be working with your father. We tolerated enough during your time in prison and you should be making every effort to try and work your way back into society," she said with her signature disapproving sniff.

Matt shuddered as that single sound echoed in his head, plaguing almost each action since his childhood.

"Matthew, you need to make an effort. Your father and I paid a small fortune for your education—"

"I had scholarships, Mom."

"Do not interrupt me, young man. You need to start working again and try to rebuild your position with the Collings-Lloyd name. Your father has a job for you here. It's an entry level position, but after spending five years in prison, you can't possibly expect to return to anything more."

Matt felt the anger begin to simmer as his headache grew stronger. He hated when his mother started on her usual tirade. "I have a job."

"I'm certain it's not of the same caliber as working at your father's company."

"In an entry level position," Matt threw in as a subtle jab, no longer caring to tolerate her rant today.

"Your father mentioned how nice it would be to have you and your brother at the company again…"

Matt tuned her out and filed away the unfinished papers until he could focus on them later. He'd heard this argument during each phone call since his release. His family's textiles company employed hundreds in the various divisions nationwide. He had worked his way up to management from a clerk position while studying, but left to work for a brokerage firm after finishing his finance degree—he had no interest in working in the family business. His brother quickly followed his footsteps but Matt still believed it was his way of escaping their mother's clutches. Each call was another recollection of what he already knew. Ironically, she felt that restating his history with the family business would somehow guilt him into returning. All it did was anger him and push him farther away.