“Lucas has accepted a temporary position helping me to get my house ready for the Realtors. It’s been empty for a long time, and he needs a job, so it’s perfect.” Jacob turned to Lucas expectantly. “He was going to start tomorrow, but as his room isn’t available, he might as well come back with me now.”
Lucas gaped at Jacob. He was offering him a job.
Jacob took Lucas’s arm and steered him to the stairs. “Let’s get your clothes.”
“But Sir,” Lucas said quietly even though he was obediently following him. “I don’t. I mean I can’t—”
Jacob stopped at the top of the stairs. “If I’m wrong or out of line, please say. It just seemed you wouldn’t even get a bed to sleep in tonight.” He searched Lucas’s face, and for once Lucas didn’t look down. “And I wasn’t lying about the house. It’s a mess, and I would gladly pay someone to clear it up so I don’t have to. I thought it might be something you may be interested in until you get something else sorted.”
Lucas gazed at Jacob. “Seriously?”
Jacob nodded. “Please call me Jacob, and yes, I’m serious.”
Lucas stared at the hand Jacob extended, then took a leap of faith and closed his fingers around the warm ones in front of him.
Of all the impulsive bonehead moves. What the hell had even gotten into him? Jacob sighed as he took the battered backpack off Lucas and eyed the two bags he was clutching.
He’d stood outside on the sidewalk after Lucas had shown him out as more party guests had brushed past him, and hated it, but what could he do? It wasn’t like he had a spare house he could donate to Lucas.
But you have a spare room.
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea, and he’d thought furiously. He didn’t want to be here. The only thing he needed to do was get the house ready for the Realtors to sell, but if he had someone to do that for him, it would save him a lot of time. It might mean he could get out of the whole Christmas nightmare and leave for England early. Maybe do a bit of traveling. Anything not to spend another minute in that house. He turned back and quickly jogged back up the steps to the front door. It wasn’t even shut properly. He heard Terry’s raised voice immediately and intervened.
Five minutes later and Terry was still shouting as Jacob and Lucas hurried down the stairs. “I’m warning you, you ungrateful little snot. You leave here and you won’t be coming back.” Lucas winced as the door slammed shut, and Jacob felt rotten for him. It looked like the bastard was using him as some sort of slave, and worse, Lucas seemed used to being treated like one.
Jacob tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Maybe the distraction of Lucas being there was what he needed. He would pay him obviously to get the place straightened up. Maybe, he could even get Lucas to—no, he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone touching Ben’s things. That was private. Surely after two years he could get the courage to go in there and finally put everything away? If he did that, he could even check into a hotel if he wanted. He didn’t even have to live there if Lucas was doing the work.
“Thank you.” The words were so quiet Jacob almost didn’t hear them, but they were what he needed to bring him out of his head.
“You’re welcome, and I heard the last threat as well, but I don’t want you to worry. I’m sure between Adrian, Patrick, and me, we can find you somewhere within your budget to live.”
Lucas pressed his lips together, as if stopping a reply, but Jacob could see the desolation on his face. He simply nodded though, and they completed the ride to Jacob’s in silence.
Jacob pulled into the driveway of the older house, and for a second, memories nearly spilled from his eyes.
They’d been so excited when they’d found the older house to remodel. They were going to even get a dog, but then Ben got a promotion and his hours seemed even longer, so it wasn’t fair when Jacob sometimes had to travel for work.
“You have a lovely home,” Lucas said politely.
Jacob forced a smile and got out. He got the case from the trunk, and Lucas followed him to the door clutching the two plastic bags. Jacob tried to look at it through Lucas’s eyes and saw the neglected feel of the house. The dust that caked every surface. The piles of boxes half filled before Jacob hadn’t been able to bear it anymore and simply locked the house and left. After Ben’s death, he’d taken a string of short-term projects and eventually Atlanta. He hadn’t even stayed here one single night in two years. He’d dumped his suitcases upstairs that morning and had barely unpacked.
“Quick tour,” Jacob said. He walked to the stairs knowing Lucas was following him. He deliberately walked past the first door he knew was still locked and opened the next, noting the unmade bed. “There’s a linen closet just outside this room. Bathroom.” He nodded to the other door.
“Are you sure?”
Jacob glanced at Lucas for what seemed the first time since they had left his house. He nodded. “My room is at the end, and there’s a small room next to it I sometimes use as an office if I work here. I’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready. Hungry?”
Lucas bit his lip. It looked like he was; maybe he just felt uncomfortable saying it. What had Patrick said? He didn’t like peopling. Although if he’d been his mom’s care giver for years, maybe he hadn’t gotten the opportunity. “I’m just going to put a few slices of bread in the toaster.”
Jacob turned and headed downstairs. It wasn’t quite ten, but Lucas had looked tired. Jacob was exhausted, but not the tired that sleep would ever cure. He needed a change, and he hoped with everything in him that England would give him that. And maybe Lucas would be the buffer he needed to survive this house before he left.
Jacob was buttering a fourth piece of toast when Lucas appeared. He looked up and smiled. “Coffee? Tea?”
Lucas shook his head. “I’m good with water, thanks.”
Jacob gestured to the fridge. “Filtered, and glasses in the cupboard on the left.” Lucas helped himself and joined him at the table. Jacob put the plate of toast on the table and poured himself a coffee. He wouldn’t sleep anyway.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Jacob took a sip of coffee, winced, and added sugar. He was out of cream. “Terry is your stepfather?”
Lucas sighed. “Yes. My mom…my mom was a free spirit if you like. Her mom and dad died before I was born, and they left her the house and enough money she never had to worry about a job.” Lucas’s face softened in memory. “I think she’s been a painter, a collector, a therapist—or maybe until she found out how much school that involved—and her last project was antique restoration. She met Terry at an auction, and they went away to Cannes of all places for a month and came home married.”
“How long ago?” Jacob immediately regretted the intrusive question.
“Ten years. I’d just gone to college, and I barely saw them for the next few years as they traveled a lot.”
“What does Terry do?” Apart from drink.
“He was trying to get into flipping houses, but after he met my mom, he didn’t bother working.”
“I’m sorry,” Jacob said, not knowing what else he could say.