A Better Man (The Men of Halfway House) (7 page)

"You're doing it wrong. You're never going to break through it like that," Julian said.

After a few more attempts, Matt's frustration became overwhelming. He felt useless. Shouldn't there be something in the male DNA that codes the innate ability to handle a damn tool?

"Here, hold it like this," Julian said, reaching around him, placing his hands on top of Matt's, demonstrating the grip. Matt's breath quickened when the hard muscled chest pressed against his back and the strong arms encased him. "And make sure you have a staggered stance, one foot slightly in front of the other."

Matt quick shifted his legs in the proper position, nervous as hell at the prospect of Julian touching him to position them for him.

"Hold it tight, when you swing, you're going to swing your hips like this," Julian said, gripping Matt's hips and moving them to demonstrate. Matt's breath hitched. He felt the sweat trickle down the side of his face, and he wasn't sure if it was from the heat in the air or the desire coursing through his body. He heard Julian talk about holding the hammer, which hand to use based on Matt's dominant side, but he couldn't seem to focus on anything other than the warm breath against the side of his face, the body pressed against his back or the hand resting on his hip.

After one test swing, with the tormenting weight of the golden, sweating grip of muscles guiding him, he successfully completed a swing that actually punctured a hole into the wall.

"See, there you go. Now do one on your own. Make me proud."

Matt wasn't sure if it was, in fact, a desire to be praised by Julian or if smashing the wall was suddenly the best outlet for his epic level of frustration, but one swing on his own, and suddenly, another hole appeared. After repeated swings, Matt managed to take down the wall on his own while Julian smiled.

That was the first day.

On day two, Matt could barely move his arms and the muscles in his back and shoulders screamed from the pain.

"You okay?" Julian asked.

Matt nodded. No way was he going to admit his body was completely pained while he watched Julian prepare for a second day of work without a single flinch of discomfort.

"How about you take a break today? Here are the specs for the windows. Can you call in the orders while I do the demo? That way, they'll be here by the time I've got all the walls ready for the wiring."

Matt looked at the sheet Julian had ripped out of his notebook detailing the measurements and descriptions of the windows for the order. He tried, but damn, this shit was hard and painful as hell. Resigned, he took the sheet and sighed, trying to ignore the strain in his muscles at reaching for the paper.

"Matt?"

He looked up into Julian's gaze. "It's hard work. I'm surprised you're even functional today. I'm impressed."

Matt felt his chest swell at the praise. Even if Julian was simply humoring him, it was nice to receive some acknowledgement for the effort. "Thanks," he responded with a weak smile before retreating to his office to place the order for the windows.

"So how are things going?" Sam asked, cutting into his memory of the day before.

"Huh?" he prompted, still lost in his recollection.

"Your builder guy. Is he working out?" Sam asked.

"He's been working pretty much non-stop since he started with the demolition, prepping everything according to the plans."

"How's that going?" Sam asked before a crash echoed throughout the open windows of the second floor. Sam immediately pushed off his perch against the wall, obvious concern colored his expression.

Matt shook his head. "He's fine. He told me to worry if everything got silent." Another crash reverberated above followed by a ripe curse.

"Did he buy the office excuse?" Sam asked.

Matt shook his head. "I couldn't tell him. I was worried he'd walk out on the job."

"Is he an ass?" Sam asked with a hardened expression. Usually one to just go-with-the-flow and focus on the positive, he could easily transform into a fierce protector when one of his boys was not granted respect.

Sam was the father figure most of the guys wished they'd had growing up. He was attentive to what was needed, thoughtful in his advice, and always available. He never failed to see the potential in his assigned group of inmates. He was usually appointed those who were most lost, broken, or misguided. He'd once told Matt that, sometimes, people just needed a little bit of a nudge, a tiny point in the proper direction to get them going on the right path. He always did this by treating each of his charges with respect, something most had lost along the way.

He'd once shared with Matt how much he longed for a house full of kids who would later grow and give him grandchildren he could spoil endlessly. But since his wife, whom he had loved since kindergarten, died several years ago, he couldn't imagine building a family with anyone else. As a result, he referred to his group of assigned inmates as 'his boys'. Matt always used to laugh when the man treating him as a son would get so protective. After his friend Liam's death, Matt finally understood how critical Sam was to his support system. More ex-cons needed people like Sam to provide guidance and encouragement in their lives.

Matt shook his head. "He didn't push. He knows I lied. Apparently, I suck at it."

"You do," Sam said with a laugh. He looked at Matt appraisingly. "It's a good idea. Don't second-guess yourself."

Matt remained quiet, his mind wandering to a benchmark he didn't want to ponder. "It's going to be a year in a few weeks," he mumbled, knowing Sam would understand the impact of the impending anniversary of Liam's death.

"I know," Sam commented quietly.

Both remained silent for some time, Sam would know where Matt's mind had gone.

Liam was young, vibrant and full of life. He'd chatter endlessly each night with Matt about plans for the future, and why he had ended up in prison. Liam had embezzled funds from the family business to support his gambling habit. He felt they had turned him in as a means of intervention, to teach him a lesson and set him on the right path. He was sentenced to five years but had been released after four. At twenty-five, Liam left prison with a promise to write each week and a smile on his face.

Matt knew something was wrong when the letters stopped after Liam's release. But no one would listen or care about an ex-con who had gone silent. No one but Sam. He listened to Matt's worry and took it upon himself to find Liam. Days transitioned into weeks as Liam remained absent and Sam persistently continued his search. Not even his probation officer had heard from him and didn't have the time to focus on one lost ex-con in his stack of cases.

A few weeks before his own release, Sam had pulled Matt aside and had given him a status on Liam. His family had not taken him back in so he had been forced to live on the streets—no home, no work, no money. According to the police report Sam found, Liam had been beaten and left for dead after a dispute with a group of homeless men over a discarded bin of food. Liam's last moments were painful and alone on the streets. The grief for his friend hardened his resolve and set his direction on how to make things right. Liam had been discarded by his family, just as he had, and a random idea discussed during endless hours of bedtime chatter planted the seed of how to make things right and fulfill a promise.

He shook his head to try and dispel the bitter memories.

"Are you going to introduce me to your new contractor or are you going to keep him all to yourself?"

Sam really had no idea how tempting it was to do just that. Another crash echoed throughout the building.

"I'm going to go meet him so I can identify him in the rubble," Sam commented before entering the house.

Matt grabbed a bottled water from the cooler before ushering Sam up the stairs. Once they arrived on the second level, Matt was surprised to see the amount of light flooding through the large open area. The walls were stripped to the support beams, exposing a network of wires and pipes throughout. The floors were stripped and the worn carpets were rolled in the corners of the space.

Matt looked up to see Julian standing on a ladder, shirtless, his slim waist and tight abs shifted as his wider upper body stretch into the ceiling area.

"I'm up here," Matt said.

"Stand back," Julian announced loudly before a section of the ceiling began to shake, then crashed to the floor from the force of Julian's pull on the material. Julian climbed down the ladder as the plume of dust settled.

"Hey," Julian said when he turned to Matt and Sam.

Matt didn't think he had ever seen a more beautiful sight. Julian's broad smile contrasted against his golden, sweat-slicked face. His broad, muscled, exposed chest glistened. Matt lowered his gaze, following a drop of sweat traveling down the dips and curves of Julian's muscles and through the sprinkle of his treasure trail before it was absorbed into the waistband of his worn, low rise jeans. His mind flooded with visions of following that same path down Julian's torso with his tongue. His semiarousal became painful as he admired the perfectly crafted physique that stood before him. He looked up and Julian's crystal green eyes sparked with mischief. Matt blinked and looked away, then walked over to the window and put the bottled water on the sill.

"Samuel Isaacs," Sam said, extending his hand in greeting.

Julian wiped his palms on his jeans then shook Sam's offered hand. "Julian Capeletti," he responded with a grin.

"Sam's a friend," Matt interjected.

Julian's smile didn't flinch but his eyes flickered with something Matt didn't recognize. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to clarify his relationship with Sam, but he didn't want Julian to think otherwise.

He took a deep breath when he realized what he had done then absently ran his hands through his hair yet again.

I'm losing it
.

Chapter 7

Friend?
Friend, my ass.

Julian wasn't sure if it was a past relationship, but it was obvious there was something more than a simple friendship there. Sam wasn't a bad looking guy. A bit older than Matt, possibly mid-forties, but there was something about his eyes that made you want to sit and tell him your life story. Sam wasn't Julian's type, but if the guy was Matt's preference, then Julian didn't stand half a chance.

Fuck
.

The sudden stab of anger came out of nowhere. This older guy with the
let's talk
warm brown eyes and slightly curling hair didn't look so good to him anymore.

He stopped smiling as he released Sam's hand.

"It's amazing the difference it makes just removing that wall," Matt said in awe. He was either completely oblivious to the thoughts that ran through Julian's mind,
hopefully
, or he was trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, it's not needed for structural support so having it there is just killing the light."

"I can't get over how much you've done in the first few days," Sam said as he looked around the room and down the hall.

"I'm trying to get the water and power up as fast as possible," Julian said, eyeing Matt who ran his hands through his hair repeatedly.

"You were right, Matt, he is the right guy," Sam said with a smile as he looked over to his friend.

Matt's cheeks flushed with color. He must have realized he was messing with his hair because he shoved both hands in his pockets then looked down, probably to hide the deeper red that was burning his face and now ears.

"Uh, yeah," he said quietly then looked up at Julian with the oddest expression on his face.

Julian couldn't place exactly what that look meant, but it was enough to make him smile again and feel his jeans suddenly become just a little bit tighter. He couldn't take his eyes away from Matt. The tousled hair, flushed cheeks; Julian wondered if this was what Matt looked like after sex.
Damn, he looks good
. Matt gave him a tiny smile and suddenly Julian wished he wasn't covered in dust and sweat with an employee-employer thing going and someone else in the room.
Fuck
.

Sam cleared his throat and broke the moment. "Well, I'm glad to see Matt's in good hands."

"Yeah," Julian said with his voice a little hoarser than expected.

"I'll let you get back to work," Matt said with a tentative smile before making his way out of the room with Sam.

Julian couldn't stop looking at Matt as he walked away.

"Oh shit," Matt turned abruptly, grabbed the bottled water from the window sill and handed it to Julian. "I forgot."

"Thanks," Julian said softly as he slowly reached for the bottle. Their fingers brushed slightly and Julian felt a current travel down his body straight to his balls and up his spine, making his neck and head tingle.

Matt just stood there looking at him and Julian couldn't help doing the same. His eyes never left Matt's as he wrapped his lips around the bottle and took a swig. He could see the color rise again in Matt's cheeks.

"How are you feeling?" Julian asked. "Your arms still hurting?"

"Better. Uh, I'll let you get back to it," Matt said, finally breaking the silence. "If you need some help with anything, just holler."