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“Okay, I’m here, you can get the heck out,” Ronan hollered as he slammed shut the door of the townhouse behind him.
“Ronan!” several voices cried, including the tired one that was undoubtedly Declan’s. Then two bundles of high energy hit his legs and knees and Ronan focused on his nephew and niece, letting them scream wildly while he dropped his bag and twirled them into the air.
He carried them through to the kitchen where Declan was looking more harried than usual. “You’re late,” he accused.
“Well, you know traffic can be a biii-- butt,” Ronan censored himself.
“I have lists of everything I expect from you this week and—”
“Wait, what? You expect me to do things for you? I’m already housesitting for you, out of the goodness of my heart so—”
“Oh and what important farm business am I taking you away from? Gazing out over the empty fields where you keep claiming you’re going to get cattle?”
“I am,” Ronan muttered and resisted the always present urge to flip off Declan. Then he plopped Teddy on the counter so he could readjust Bee’s chokehold on his neck.
“Sure, Ronan,” Declan said, grabbing his daughter from him and nearly completing the choking. “And don’t leave Theo up there unattended; he’ll fall.”
“You’re not unattended, are you little man?” Ronan whispered to Teddy’s great laughing delight as Ronan picked him back up.
“As I was saying,” Declan continued, “we’ll be gone until Saturday evening. There are lists of reminders to take out the trash, bring in the cans, make sure the landscaping company cuts the lawn, and to keep an eye on the sprinklers because there’s something off with the timer.”
“Oh my god, you are the most boring person alive,” Ronan informed him.
“And Declan, please don’t forget to call the repair place again. They still haven’t sent anyone out to fix the washing machine,” said Jordan’s voice from the hallway.
Declan grimaced and took something from under a magnet on the refrigerator door. “Of course not, darling. I’ll find out why they haven’t been here.” He slapped the business card against Ronan’s chest and hissed, “I keep forgetting to call them. You call and get the washer fixed before we come home.”
“You mean, you actually forgot to mm-mm-mmph,” Ronan’s extra-loud voice was quickly muffled by Declan’s hand.
“Yes, I actually forgot. You try having two little ones under four and another on the way plus a full-time job,” Declan snapped then grimaced at the feeling of Ronan’s tongue, slimy on his palm. “Ugh, you never grow up.”
“Nope,” Ronan agreed happily, jiggling Teddy on his hip. “Now hurry up and get outta here so I can raid your fridge and drink all your beer.”
“It’s only a week, Ronan. Do I have to warn you against having any parties? Or incurring any noise complaints from the neighbors? Or trashing the house in any way?”
“Really? Do you think I can?”
Declan rolled his eyes and took his son away, much to his and Ronan’s disappointment. Then Jordan bustled in, reminding Declan to recheck the kids’ luggage, and he took them out to the hallway to put on shoes and get ready to leave for the airport.
“Hi, Ronan,” Jordan said with a little tired smile.
“Hey. Congratulations,” he said, thinking that if Declan had looked exhausted, Jordan looked like she hadn’t gotten to sleep in months. “Hope your vacation lets you relax. Enjoy it.”
“I don’t think there is any relaxing with those three,” she said. “I’ll just be happy if I get an hour a day to myself.”
“Make Declan take them so you can hit a spa or something. You deserve it.”
“You’re damn right I deserve it,” she said, making Ronan laugh. Then she lowered her voice, “I would really appreciate it if you could call the appliance repair and get the washer fixed. I know Declan hasn’t, but it would be lovely to have it done by the time we get home.”
“For you, consider it done,” Ronan promised and flourished the card Declan had given him.
And that was the last time he saw it for nearly a week. He spent the time in D.C. alone, sometimes hitting a national monument or driving through the suburbs out into the hills. He crashed in the townhouse and methodically drank his way through the cheap beer Declan had undoubtedly stocked just for him as well as the better stuff he found stashed in the back of the pantry. He followed the lists and eventually got the trash cans back off the curb before the neighbor could yell at him twice, and he only played movies and video games loud enough for himself, but not the neighbor, to hear.
Then Declan texted him late Friday afternoon that something had happened to their Saturday flight and they wouldn’t be back until Sunday. And he thanked Ronan for taking care of the house and getting the washing machine fixed.
“Shit,” Ronan said, peeling himself off the couch and going to look for the business card. It was under a bag of bagels on the kitchen counter, and he drummed his fingers nervously while he listened to the phone ring. Surely they were still open a little after 4 p.m. on a summer Friday afternoon?
Then victory. A breathless voice that sounded like it had been laughing at something answered. “Hello, Boyd’s Appliance Repair, this is Adam, how can I help you?”
“Shit, you answered.”
A pause. “Yes, sir. Can I help you?”
“Fuck, yes, I gotta get the washer fixed.”
“Okay, sir, I can get you scheduled. It looks like our first available technician can come out Thursday between 2 and 5 p.m.”
“No, no, no that won’t work. I need someone now,” Ronan said.
The voice paused again. “What exactly is the problem you’re having with the washer.”
Ronan gaped. “I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to tell me what’s wrong with it?”
“Well, yes, but if you’ll tell me what the washer is doing, I might be able to give you an idea of what’s wrong.”
“So I’m doing half your job for you, diagnosing what’s wrong?”
The voice sounded like it was grinding its teeth. “No. Sir. I’m saying that if your problem is so urgent that it can’t wait until Thursday, maybe I can give you some advice over the phone. Sir.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t know what’s wrong with it—like I said that’s your job—it’s just broken. But I have to have it fixed today.”
“That’s impossible. Sir.”
“Nothing is impossible.”
“It is if it’s a Friday afternoon and the shop closed at 4,” the voice said smugly.
“Fuck.” Ronan rubbed at the back of his head. “What if I pay overtime? Double the overtime?”
“You really want me to make one of our guys work overtime fixing your washer, when you can’t even tell me how it’s acting.”
“Yes,” that was exactly what Ronan wanted.
The voice sighed, deep and heartfelt. “Look, even if you pay overtime, that’s still an awfully big demand. I can’t ask if someone wants to spend Friday night God only knows where fixing a … what model is it, anyway?”
“The fuck should I know? Can’t you tell?”
“Not without seeing the machine. Sir,” the voice gritted out.
“It’s a white one,” Ronan said.
“Why don’t you ask your wife or your mother or whoever actually uses the machine to tell me what’s going on.”
“My wife?” Ronan scoffed then blurted out without thinking, “I’m way too gay to have a wife.” Then he realized the guy wasn’t laughing like his friends would, so he said, “And besides, that’s extremely sexist to believe that I’m making a woman in my life do the laundry. I’m very offended. On behalf of the women you’re enslaving to do household chores.”
The voice let out another sigh. “You’re right,” it admitted reluctantly. “That was sexist, and I know better. Men are just as capable at breaking washing machines, probably more so.”
“And besides, it’s not even my washer.”
That made the voice pause again. “Did you break into a house and then break the washer?” it asked Ronan.
“No! God, no, it’s my sister-in-law’s washer. She and my brother and kids went on vacation this week, and my dickwad brother was supposed to call and have it fixed but…”
“But he’s a dickwad?”
“Exactly! And so they asked if I’d call and do it because they get home Sunday and she’ll probably be swamped in dirty laundry so yeah,” Ronan finished. “And she’s pregnant with my third niece or nephew so I don’t want her to have to worry about this.”
“I have a feeling that if she’s married into your family, she’s got bigger problems to worry about,” the voice said dryly.
“Well, probably,” Ronan admitted then reminded, “because my brother’s a dickwad.”
The voice coughed something that sounded like “you too” before arranging itself back to professionalism. “Give me your name, address and number.”
“Seriously? You’ll get someone to come over now?” Ronan barely dared to hope.
“I’ll see what I can do. If someone’s willing to stay. For the overtime.”
“Got it. Great,” and Ronan rattled off his details before Adam said, “I’m not promising anything. But I’ll see what I can do. For your sister-in-law.”
“I really appreciate this,” Ronan said, heartfelt and honest.
He was still feeling relieved when the doorbell rang and he opened it to find the most attractive man he’d seen in a long, long time. His face was all high cheekbones and pursed lips and dark blue eyes with eyelashes and hair that was fair against his tanned skin. He was slim but filled out the white T-shirt and work pants nicely. And when he held up a sheet of paper to consult, Ronan had to swallow hard at the sight of his hands—ideal in their male loveliness and exactly the kind of long, knobbly fingers Ronan liked to get in his mouth.
“You Lynch?” The man asked.
Ronan had to clear his throat before he could say, “Yeah, come on in.” He stepped aside to let the vision of male glory enter the foyer with him. Then he paused and fished out some blue paper booties from his pocket, put down his toolbox and leaned a hand against the wall to steady himself while he put the booties on over his work boots.
“You don’t have to do that,” Ronan said.
“Company policy,” the repair man said shortly, switching to his other foot.
“Well, they don’t give a shit about these,” Ronan kicked up his own heavy boot in the guy’s direction who only gave him an unimpressed look.
“That’s nice. I don’t want to damage anyone’s floors.” Standing up straight, he clutched the toolbox to his side. Ronan glanced down to see “Chuck” scratched in heavy lines into the metal. Funny, the guy really didn’t look like a “Chuck.” “Now, where’s this broken washer?”
Ronan led him down the hall, down the stairs, through the family room to the laundry area. He gave a flourish like a game show model, “There it is.”
Chuck only frowned at the machine and him. Finally, he said, “Okay, I’ll take it from here,” put his toolbox down and started checking the machine’s connections to the wall.
He glanced back at Ronan. “Have you tried turning it off and on?”
“That’s how you fix a computer, dumbass,” Ronan retorted.
Chuck glared at him and pointedly unplugged the machine. “These new washers are run by a computer module” the dumbass was heavily implied but not said.
Ronan remained silent while Chuck plugged it back in, then moved to the control panel and frowned even more heavily while he pressed some buttons and turned the dial. Ronan cleared his throat, and Chuck looked slowly in his direction.
“I just wondered, is this going to take a while?”
“Why? Am I keeping you from a hot date?”
Ronan felt his face burn. “No, no date. I’m not dating… I mean. I just wondered.”
“If you need to go, I’ll be happy to come back—”
“No! It’s fine!”
“Or you can ask your boyfriend to come over here,” Chuck said while he opened the washer door and ran his hand around the seal.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” now it was Ronan’s turn to frown heavily. “Did that Adam guy tell you I’m gay? Is that why he sent you?”
Chuck froze then very slowly and deliberately shut the door. “Why would you think that?” he asked.
“Well, I mean, I kind of outed myself to him and then you show up looking all...” Ronan was at a loss for words so just sort of gestured to Chuck.
Who was looking at him strangely, one eyebrow raised.
“I mean, I’m not ashamed because I like men, it’s just kind of a dick move of Adam to send someone who looks like” and again he waved, but more feebly than before.
Chuck’s other eyebrow shot up and red bloomed across his cheeks. “I don’t know how to feel about that,” he finally said. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to awkwardly compliment me or accuse my company of some kind of homophobia.”
“No, I’m not. I mean, the first one. Shit,” Ronan rubbed his hand across his face and took a deep breath. “I mean, you’re hot and I thought maybe Adam sent you out here because I told him I was gay. Or something.”
“I can assure you, I wasn’t sent here because you’re gay. And my company isn’t afraid of gays. At least one person there is bi.”
“How do you know—oh.” Ronan finally shut up when Chuck gave him a pointed look. “Okay. So this isn’t some kind of weird punishment or set-up by the jerk on the phone. Adam.”
“No. It’s definitely not,” Chuck said dryly. “I’m just the one stupid enough to take double the overtime I was promised to come out here and figure out what’s the deal with this washer.”
“Got it.” Ronan leaned more heavily against the door frame while Chuck went back to making the washer beep.
Then he glanced at Ronan. “If you’re going to just stand there and monitor me, give me a hand.”
Ronan straightened while Chuck pushed the front of the washer up. He helped lean it against the wall. “Hold it steady for a second,” Chuck said before he lay on the floor and reached underneath to pull an entire manual from some mystery portal.
“Holy shit, who knew that was under there,” Ronan said, letting the washer down into place.
“Who indeed.” Chuck flipped it open like a map and drew his finger down the page. “It’s full of codes we need for diagnostics,” he deigned to explain when Ronan crowded closer to read over his (very broad, very trim) shoulder.
Chuck suddenly shut the manual and stepped away from Ronan. “It’s going to take me a minute to work through some of this. Don’t let me keep you from what you were doing.”
Mostly what Ronan had been doing was lusting over Chuck’s body, but that was definitely a dismissal. Let it not be said that Ronan couldn’t read social cues. He stepped back too and said, “I’ll just go get a drink. You want anything?”
Chuck shook his head and went back to the control panel. Ronan slunk away and went to the kitchen. He grabbed a cold bottle of water and held it to his burning face. This clumsy interaction, this right here? This was why Ronan was single.
Then he grabbed a bottle for Chuck, just in case, and returned to the laundry room. Where Chuck was standing, thumbs flying over his phone.
“I leave you alone for five minutes, and you start playing Candy Crush?” Ronan meant it to be teasing but he winced when his voice came out gruff.
Chuck didn’t bother to look up. “From what the diagnostic told me, it doesn’t look good. I’m trying to find out…” his voice trailed off as his thumb (prominent knuckle working) paged up and he read.
“I do appreciate you coming out tonight. Your co-worker Adam said he didn’t think anyone would come out, but I knew he didn’t know what he was talking about.” When Chuck didn’t respond, Ronan said, “In fact, it kinda seemed like he had a stick up his ass.”
“So he’s been told before,” Chuck said under his breath, a little grin twisting his lips. He looked up at Ronan then, his blue eyes flashing. “I have good news and bad news.” He didn’t give Ronan a choice as he went on, “Bad news is, the module is shot and it’s going to need a new one. They’re really expensive. But the good news is, there was actually a recall on this model so the module and labor will be covered by the manufacturer.”
“Wow, really? So this won’t cost anything?” When Chuck shook his head, Ronan said, “Can you still charge my brother without telling him it’s free?”
“No,” he said shortly, but he smiled a little. Then his phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said to Ronan and turned away.
Ronan started into the family room when he heard Chuck answer. “Hey, this is Adam, what’s up?” And Ronan stopped cold.
“Oh fuck no,” he whispered and blatantly eavesdropped from beside the door.
“Yeah, it’s actually covered under that recall earlier this year. I already ordered the module, and I can do all the paperwork when I get to the office Monday. Yep. Yeah. Naw, it’s fine, the guy didn’t murder me yet. Sure thing, Boyd, no trouble. See ya Monday.”
Then Chuck-Adam said, “You can come back now.”
Ronan stuck his head around the door frame. The repair guy was tapping his cell against his other hand. He didn’t say anything either.
“So,” Ronan tried. “You’re not Chuck.”
Adam glanced down at the toolbox and smirked. “I just grabbed his tools out of the truck by accident.”
“You’re Adam. The dude I talked to on the phone.”
Adam smirked harder.
“Ah, you don’t actually have a stick up your ass. And you’re not against gays. Sorry,” Ronan’s mumble was quiet but sincere.
Adam seemed to sense that. “I was serious about wanting double the overtime, but I also wanted to see exactly who was such a big disaster that they called a repairman without knowing what was wrong with the washer. Or knowing anything about a washer to begin with.”
“So the fact that I’m gay…”
“That was just a bonus,” Adam said then he pulled himself up a little bit. “That was my boss, who agrees with me. We’ll get the module in by Tuesday morning, so I’ll come over that afternoon and get this fixed right up. Wouldn’t want your sister-in-law to be drowning in dirty laundry.”
“No, that sounds great. Thanks.”
Ronan moved aside as Adam picked up the toolbox and started to walk away. Ronan figured he only had one shot so he might as well take it. He really couldn’t make things much worse.
“Are you sure you don’t want a drink? Coke? Water? Beer?”
Adam stopped at the top of the stairs, letting Ronan catch up. “I could use some water,” he said.
“Great. I’ll get it. Go right in or wait here,” Ronan babbled as he hurried to the kitchen, completely forgetting the water that he’d carried to the laundry room minutes before.
Then he figured it was easier to ask when Adam was in an entirely different room. “Hey, I was going to order pizza for dinner. Would you like some? It’s the least I can do, to thank you for coming out on a Friday night.”
“Well, I shouldn’t,” Adam’s voice came from the hall.
“Wow, what was that? This fridge is making some weird noises.”
“Lynch, if I come in there and there’s a size 12 boot print anywhere on that refrigerator…”
Ronan eyed the stainless steel door and thought seriously about it. Then he glanced over to see Adam leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Wasn’t going to,” Ronan said and offered the water.
Adam tried to hide a little smile as he accepted. “You don’t have to break another appliance. Pizza would be fine.”
“Really?”
Adam rolled his eyes as he took a drink. “Don’t make me second guess it.”
So he stayed, even let Ronan pay for the pizza, breadsticks and wings since he had ruined Adam’s Friday night plans.
“Hot date?” Ronan asked, a little bitterly.
“Only with a paper that’s due next week. Summer classes,” he explained and took a huge bite of the supreme pizza.
They learned about each other’s lives, likes and dislikes. Ronan learned that Adam had a bitchy streak that was almost as deep as his own, and that Adam was sadly lacking in pop culture knowledge, particularly the entirety of the Fast and Furious universe.
So of course, he had to put the first movie in after dinner and wax lyrical about street racing while Adam mocked every single plot hole. When Ronan suggested the second and Adam got done ranting about “how many sequels are there? How many times can they do the exact same thing?” he settled onto the couch beside Ronan.
And then, he fell asleep. Ronan turned the volume down but let the movie play while he watched Adam. He wished that Adam had tipped over onto his shoulder instead of snuggling the opposite direction into the corner of the couch. He looked much less cynical in sleep, but he must have been as exhausted as Jordan, to just drop off during an explosive car chase in a stranger’s house.
Ronan let the movie go, while his mind whirled with daydreams and desires of the man beside him. When the credits began to roll, Ronan stretched and then coughed loudly. It only made Adam turn his head a little, but he didn’t wake. Finally, he stood up and turned on the lights, continuing on to the kitchen to loudly open and close some cupboards.
When he peeked back into the living room, Adam was sitting up groggily and blinking slowly. “Hey, sorry I woke you.”
“Nah, I’m sorry I fell asleep,” and Ronan heard Adam’s accent for the first time before he yawned hugely. “I’m tired all the time,” he confessed.
“It’s fine. I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”
“It’s all good. I had a nice time,” Adam said, standing and stretching slowly, making Ronan look away.
“I did too. I’d like to do this again. Sometime. If you want.”
Adam didn’t say anything for a minute then he walked up to Ronan. “Sure, I’d like that. Give me your phone.”
Ronan held his breath while Adam put his info in and handed it back. Then Adam put his beautiful hand on Ronan’s cheek and leaned in to brush his lips gently against Ronan’s. Ronan didn’t even have a chance to kiss back before Adam let go and pulled away.
“I’ll see you Tuesday, if you’re around. I better go now.”
“Yeah, okay,” Ronan followed him to the front door like a puppy. “What are you doing tomorrow? I mean, today, Saturday? Would you want to do something later?
Adam smiled up at him as he removed his booties. “Maybe. Text me.”
Ronan smiled back. “You know, I think the faucet was doing something weird earlier.”
“I’m not a plumber, Lynch. Don’t even think about sabotaging anything else in your brother’s house.”
“Fine,” Ronan huffed and was rewarded by another smile as Adam left.
Then he shut the door and leaned his forehead against it, feeling giddy and silly and more than halfway in love already. He’d have to tell Declan he still owed repairman-Adam a bonus and he’d hang around and help out with the kids for a couple days, at least until Tuesday. Surely Declan wouldn’t mind an extra set of hands. Even if they were more likely to be bound up in Adam’s after Tuesday.
Ronan could hardly wait.