Page 84 of Leather and Longing
Paul sighed. “Okay, but as long as you know that when he’s gone? I have plans, and they involve you.” He turned around and left the library, not looking back because he had a strong suspicion Adam would be glaring in his direction.
Let him glare. He’s gonna enjoy his birthday if it bloody kills me.
Paul crossed the hall and opened the front door. Dean was leaning against the wall, his jaw in constant movement. Paul could see the resemblance to Caroline: Dean’s blue eyes had that same glacial quality. He was shorter than Paul, thick around the middle, his belly straining against the dark blue polo shirt that hung over the waistband of his baggy jeans. Dean’s hair was dark and straggly. Disconcertingly, in his hands he held a wrench and a large hammer.
Paul gave him a polite smile. “Hi, you must be Dean. I’m Paul. Come in, please.” He eyed the hammer with trepidation.
Dean stretched his lips and strolled into the house. “I only rang the bell ’cause Mum forgot to give me her keys before she left for the tea shop this morning.” Those cool eyes appraised Paul. “You the latest lackey, then?” Before Paul could reply, Dean glanced around the hall and his gaze alighted on the closed library door. “Adam not around?”
“He’s working in the library.” Paul watched for Dean’s reaction.Yeah, he’sworking, you numbnuts. Didn’t expect that, did you?
Dean’s eyes widened. “Working?” A sneer contorted his mouth. “On what?”
Paul was fighting the urge to smack Dean’s smug face. “You know where the bathroom is?”
Dean smirked. “Sorry, am I keeping you? You must have cleaning or cooking orsomethingto be doing, right?” He grinned and headed up the staircase, whistling loudly.
Paul entered the library and closed the door after him. He leaned against it with a sigh. “D’you think your sister would notice if Dean came home with a black eye? Or maybe a bruised cheek?”
Adam grinned. “I’m sensing he made an impression.”
“Yeah.” Paul growled at the back of his throat. “I have never wanted to hit someone so badly my entire life.”
Adam let out a wry chuckle. “God, I’d love to see that.” His face tightened briefly and then relaxed.
“He’d have to lose the hammer first,” Paul murmured.
Adam arched his eyebrows. “Hammer?”
“The dirty great hammer he brought with him. And justlookingat that huge wrench made my nuts tighten.”
Adam gaped at him, before cracking up with laughter. “Nowthere’san image,” he said, wincing. “Not to mention a lovely play on words.” He folded his arms across his chest. “But forget about Dean and tell me what you’re up to.” His eyebrows knitted. “Didn’t I say you were to leave my birthday well alone?”
“Tough. And don’t you scowl at me like that,” Paul retorted. “You never know, you might actually enjoy it—when you find out what it is, of course.” He didn’t wait to hear Adam’s response. He got out of there swiftly and walked into the kitchen. Above him he caught the odd noise: running water, cupboards opening andclosing, the clang of what had to be a hammer connecting with the shower head.
What the fuck is he doing up there?
Paul strode across the hall to the foot of the stairs, to be met by Dean descending them, swinging his hammer.
“Do we still have a shower?” Paul demanded. He didn’t care at that point if Dean gave Caroline an unfavourable report: he was more concerned for Adam’s home.
Dean guffawed. “Cheeky bleeder. ’Course you still got a shower. What d’ya think I did, wreck it?”
Paul merely lowered his gaze to the hammer before raising it to give Dean an inquiring glance.
Don’t tempt me…
Dean hitched up his baggy jeans. “I haven’t fixed it, though. Couldn’t see anything wrong with it, so you’ll need a plumber for this one.” He gave Paul a shit-eating grin. “Sorry ’bout that.” He ambled across the hall toward the front door. “I’ll be going now. The footie is on TV this afternoon.”
As he reached the door, Paul was overcome by an impulse. “I’ll give your uncle your best wishes for his birthday, shall I?” he called out after him.
Dean paused in the doorway and turned around slowly. “Yeah, you do that. You give Uncle Adam all my love.” He wasn’t smiling. His gaze was focused on Paul, with an intensity unlike anything he’d shown so far.
Paul didn’t like it one little bit. “Goodbye, Dean.”
Dean inclined his head and pulled the door closed behind him. Paul stared at it, a shiver running through him.
Okay, that gave me the creeps.
