Fixer-Upper (5 page)

“Ah.”

Jake looked at him. “Ah, what?”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t an amicable split.” Dakota pointed at Jake’s face. “You’re an easy read.”

He looked back down at the hole. “It wasn’t,” he said.

Dakota didn’t ask, but the silence ate away at Jake. It took him three more plantings before he snapped. “He left me for someone else, bought me out of our business. And I tell people that I didn’t know it was coming, but I did. I really did. Well, the first bit. I didn’t have a clue about the second.” He flashed a self-deprecating smile at Dakota. “So, no, it definitely wasn’t amicable.”

“Together for a while?”

“Fifteen years.” It had felt like a lifetime if he was being honest.

Dakota hummed. “So you’re starting over. You got the house; you’re fixing it up. What’s next on the job front?”

His mouth opened. He closed it. He looked away. No one ever asked that. They told him they were so sorry and that he deserved so much better. They offered to set him up on dates or take him out. They never asked what he was going to do for money. Maybe they thought he’d go back to investment banking, start a new company on his own and act like nothing had happened. He couldn’t imagine going back to it, though. At least not anytime soon. Technically he didn’t have to do anything right that minute. He had a nest egg, even with the purchase of the house. He could not work if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to.

“I don’t know,” he said, honestly. He’d been taking things one step at a time. He had to have a place to live, so that came first. Once this was done, then he’d evaluate his options.

“Well, if all else fails, you can become a gardener.” Dakota handed him the next plant, and they moved on down the line. “You went to college?”

Jake nodded. “Columbia.”

“I went to Princeton.” He flashed a grin at Jake, the tiny dimple in his left cheek popping out. “Got a nice fancy degree in law. Bored myself to tears doing it. Quit the practice after two years and started up this company with Jasper.”

That… was not what Jake had expected. He rubbed his hand over his stubbled chin, grimacing as he realized he’d just smeared dirt over his face. Dakota laughed at him, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. He’d started carrying one around after the eye incident. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He wiped his face. “Why did you go through with it at all if it bored you?” He held the handkerchief back out, but Dakota motioned for him to keep it.

“I did it because no one thought I would, and it didn’t cost me a penny. I’d probably still be doing it if I hadn’t met Jasper.”

“Are you two…?” Jake waved his hand around.

Dakota laughed, a sound that rumbled up from deep in his belly. “No. My mother married his father my first year working with a practice. He was living with a friend, running a half-assed lawn service company at the time. A year later he asked me to start up a company with him, a proper one, and I said yes.” He shrugged. “Never would have expected this is how things would go, but it’s a damn sight better than where they were headed before.”

“Did you just give me a pep talk?” asked Jake incredulously.

“No, I told you a story, in return for the one you told me.”

“It was a pep talk.”

Dakota stood, bending to ruffle a dirty hand through Jake’s sweaty, messy hair. “It’s whatever you need it to be.”

“DOESN’T A
straight line seem a bit boring?” wondered Jake.

“They’re stepping-stones,” said Dakota. “Do you want your guests to have to weave to get around?”

They’d put the stepping-stones out experimentally, trying to gauge where they would look best and be of the most use. Jake wanted to have a gazebo-like structure in the middle of the yard, and the ponds and smaller planters, maybe some statues, scattered in tiny sections spreading out from it. In his head he’d thought it would be straightforward to use stepping-stones as a walkway for people to explore the yard. “Maybe we should do bricks instead,” he said. “Like a little brick road.”

“Do you not want the stones, then?”

“Well, we ordered them, so I think we should use them. Maybe just not for this.”

Dakota stared intently down at the stones. “We could put them in the front yard? I can figure something out.”

They’d done very little work in the front yard so far, even though that was the thing everyone would see first. Jake had been so focused on the backyard he hadn’t realized he’d ignored the front. He should probably start thinking about it.

“That could work. Will we start that when we’re done here?”

“Yeah,” said Dakota. “Do you want the front as fancy as the back?”

“No,” said Jake. He didn’t know what he wanted for it, but he knew it wasn’t this. “I want the front to be simpler.”

“I’ll talk to Jasper when he gets back.” He’d gone out to deal with acquiring a fence. He’d offered for Jake to go with him, but Jake had declined, telling him he didn’t care about the fence as long as it was tall and wood.

Jasper’s reaction to that had been strange. He’d clapped Jake on the shoulder, a common habit of his, and smiled wide. “All right,” he’d said, “try not to have too much fun with Dakota.” He’d winked at him then, and Jake hadn’t known how to respond, he’d been so baffled.

“Jake,” called a deep male voice. “You’ve got people here to see you.”

Jake turned, thinking maybe Matt had dropped by, and felt his stomach plummet. Standing beside one of the construction crew was Kevin, and he hadn’t come alone. Next to him was a tall young brunet man. Last time Jake had seen him he’d been naked and in Jake’s shower. He knew his name, but for the life of him couldn’t recall it right then.

He felt pressure on his lower back and turned to look, confused. Dakota had placed his hand there for support and was staring down at him with a worried frown. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Jake. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He plastered on a fake smile, but Dakota didn’t stop frowning. He gave it up as a lost cause and focused back on the two people he’d hoped to never see again.

The crew member had left, and they were just standing there. “What are you doing here?” asked Jake. How had they even known about this place?

Kevin held up a folder, shifting back on his heels. “I couldn’t get ahold of you. I tried calling.”

“I changed my number.” Reluctantly Jake made his way over and took the folder from Kevin. He flipped it open. Legal papers, several of them. “What’s this?” he asked. He’d already signed the divorce papers. That was done and over with.

“It’s just formalities… for the company.”

“I can’t sign these right now,” pointed out Jake, ignoring the lurching in his chest that felt like someone was repeatedly kicking him. “I’m not going to sign anything I haven’t read.”

“It’s all above board,” spoke up the brunet. “It’s just finalizing what’s already been done.”

Jake stared at him. “Forgive me,” he said after a long moment, “if I don’t trust the two of you.”

Kevin shoved his hands into his pockets. “If you didn’t want to give the business up, you didn’t have to. You could have stayed.” His gaze flicked around the backyard, his nose wrinkling up. Jake used to think that was endearing. Now he just wanted to punch him.

He flipped through the papers, not actually reading any of them. His vision was a little blurry. “You’re right,” he said. “This is all on me. How could I forget that?”

Kevin sighed, tilting his head back to look at the sky. Jake had heard that sigh a million times. It was Kevin’s “you’re being unreasonable, and I’m a saint for putting up with you” sigh. “We’ve been over this,” he said. “I thought we were done.”

“I thought so too, and then you showed up with these papers. I’ve already given you the damn company. I don’t know what else you could possibly need me for.”

“They’re nondisclosure agreements,” said Kevin. “And a promise that you won’t take our clients.” He looked around the backyard again. “To be fair, I could never have guessed you’d just give it all up.”

“So, if I hadn’t, you’d have been fine leaving me with absolutely nothing? You wouldn’t have let me have one thing from our business to help me get started? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Jake’s voice was steadily rising, irritation and outrage bubbling up inside him. It wasn’t that it even really mattered; it was the principle of the thing. He’d given this man so much of his life, and Kevin would have hung him out to dry, had hung him out to dry, and he didn’t even care.

He threw the papers at Kevin, not waiting for any kind of response. “I’m not signing a damn thing,” he said. “If I choose to come back and start over, you can damn sure believe I’ll get my clients back. Now get the fuck off my property.”

“You’re being completely unreasonable,” snarled Kevin, bending to pick up the papers, which had scattered. He shoved them back in the folder and held it out to Jake. “Just sign them. Obviously you’re not planning to start over. I didn’t believe the rumors, but they’re true.”

“I’m not signing them,” said Jake stubbornly. “I’m not giving you any more than I already have. You don’t deserve it.”

“You’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum,” yelled Kevin. “You handed over the company that you helped build like it was nothing. You left our marriage without one attempt to save it. This is what you choose to fight over?”

“Oh my God,” said Jake. “Oh my God.” He covered his face, started to giggle. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t aware I was supposed to fight to stay with the man who had been cheating on me for three years. I must have missed the memo.” He started outright laughing. He had to brace his hands on his knees.

He felt a hand on his back, felt a body brush against his. He leaned into Dakota. He heard him say “I really think it’s best you left now. If you leave the papers I’m just going to throw them away.”

Jake heard Kevin’s disgusted snort and straightened just in time to see his face twist into a sneer. “Looks like you’ve moved on just fine,” he said. “I don’t see what your problem is.” He turned and left then, the new boyfriend trailing him.

He couldn’t look at Dakota, felt embarrassment burning its way over his face. “I’m so sorry you had to see that,” he said. “I could have handled it.”

“You did handle it,” said Dakota, hand rubbing up and down his back soothingly. “I just thought I should step in before you assaulted him.”

Jake giggled, clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle it, and drew a deep breath in. “I wasn’t going to hit him,” he said, once he’d composed himself somewhat. He wanted to, but he wouldn’t have. “He’s not worth the trouble.” Jake realized Kevin wasn’t worth any of the trouble he had caused.

He finally looked up at Dakota, found him staring back at him with an unreadable expression in his solemn dark eyes. He’d meant to ask him about getting back to work, but he was thrown. “What?” he asked instead.

Dakota shook his head. “Nothing, it’s nothing.” He shook his head again, moved his hand to the middle of Jake’s back. It was large and warm; Jake could feel each individual finger that was splayed across his back. He pushed back into the pressure without thinking about it. He felt Dakota’s fingers clench against his shirt for the briefest of seconds before he pulled away. “How about we get back to work?” Dakota asked.

Jake let the moment go.

WHEN JAKE
finally managed to injure himself, it wasn’t even his fault. Dakota and he were standing in the front yard, trying to figure out what plants might look good underneath his windows, and one of the construction crew was walking by with a beam balanced over his shoulder. Neither Jake nor Dakota were paying any attention to him, or to the guy’s name being called. Jake did pay attention when the beam whacked into his head.

It wasn’t just a tap. It was a full on swing, and Jake went down like a felled tree. His head felt like it had split in half, and his vision was doing an odd tunnel-and-fade kind of routine. He felt sick.

Vaguely he was aware of people hovering over him, of someone apologizing profusely and someone else telling everyone to back off. Jake couldn’t get his hands to stop clasping his head. He felt like if he let go, his head would crumble to pieces. “It hurts,” he said, gritting it out between his teeth. His words came out slurred.

“I think you have a concussion.” Dakota’s face swam into his vision, distorted and blurry. “Stay with me,” he said, and Jake felt a familiar warm hand wrap around his own. “Call an ambulance.”

Jake tried to protest. He hated hospitals with a fiery passion. Nothing good ever came from them.

Unfortunately, he passed out right about then.

HE WOKE
to sterile white walls and a ringing in his ears. His head felt like it was going to split in two. Had he been drinking? He tried to touch his head to make sure it was all in one piece. When he brought his hand up, it was to see a tube sticking out of it. His stomach rolled, and he had to look away. Jake did not like needles. Not even a little.

“Hey,” said Dakota, hunching over him. “Hey.”

Jake squinted up at him. “Did you get me drunk?” he asked him. If he’d finally gotten to hang out with Dakota outside of work and he’d gotten too plastered to remember it, he was going to be mad.

Dakota laughed, but it sounded strained. “No,” he said. “You took a hard hit to the head from a pretty thick board.”

Jake licked his lips; they were dry and cracked. His mouth was pretty dry too. “I’m thirsty,” he said. “Can you turn off the lights?”

“The nurse left ice chips,” said Dakota. “Do you want me to ask if you can have water?”

He turned off the lights. Jake felt a little less like his head was going to explode. “Ice chips are fine.” He made a grabby motion with the hand that wasn’t being used as a pincushion. “I don’t remember hitting my head.”

“The nurse said that might happen.” Dakota handed over the ice chips. “Can you do it yourself?”

“’Course,” mumbled Jake, and fumbled one into his mouth. His eyes closed with relief.

He heard the door snick open, and he cracked one open to see Jasper tiptoeing his way into the room. “You look ridiculous,” Jake said.