Handyman (#1) Read Online Claire Thompson

Categories Genre: Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Handyman Series by Claire Thompson
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
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“No thanks,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve got plans already.” I hope.

He walked Paul to the front door and opened it. “Hey, have fun tonight. I know you will.” It was odd to admit he didn’t feel even the slightest bit jealous of Paul’s plans or the new guy he was with. While the sex had always been hot, there had never been more than that.

As they stood at the open door, Paul reached out unexpectedly and grabbed Will, locking him in an embrace. Before Will realized what Paul was doing, he kissed him hard on the mouth, only letting go when Will pulled away.

Paul gave him a smoldering gaze and then laughed. “Don’t be a stranger.”

As Will watched Paul jog down the road, he caught the back end of a red pickup truck as it drove slowly by. Jack drove a red pickup truck. Will stepped out into the yard but the truck had disappeared around the corner.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jack punctuated each curse with a bang of his fist to the steering wheel. It’s your own damn fault. You said you were going to call first. Yes, call to give Will time to send his lover home before Jack the idiot showed up.

He had been planning on calling, but somehow couldn’t think of what to say. He’d decided it would be better, as he had last time, just to swing by. Keep it casual—I was in the neighborhood…

He’d spent the day in his workshop, finishing the rocking chair and working on plans for a desk. He hadn’t been able to lose himself as he usually did in his work, instead obsessing about Will and whatever was happening between them. The minutes had dragged by endlessly until he’d finally given himself permission to shower and make the drive from New Rochelle to Scarsdale.

Seeing Will and the handsome black man locked in an embrace, heads bowed together in the kiss at his front door, had ripped through him like a knife plunged into his gut. Not that he should have been surprised. Will probably had men lined up around the block waiting to see him. He’d as much as told Jack he played around. Why should Jack be surprised?

Because of what they’d shared. Surely it had been different from the casual play to which Will had referred. Or so Jack had foolishly thought.

He’d been so shocked at the sight of the two lovers, kissing in broad daylight at Will’s doorstep, that he’d driven right on by. He had no idea if Will had seen him or not. He only knew he couldn’t have faced him right then. He couldn’t have borne whatever lies Will came up with, or didn’t come up with, to excuse or explain what he’d just witnessed.

Some words Will had said came into his head now, and he understood them on a deeply personal, painful level. If you don’t fall in love, you can’t fall out of it. If only he could fall out of it. That would be much easier than this sickening feeling of humiliation. Jack was just another notch on Will’s belt—that much was clear now. He’d been gone a day and already Will was playing the field, lining up the men to keep him safe from any real emotional connection. Whatever Jack had wished, the fact was Will was too immature to connect to anyone, least of all him. He’d been deluding himself, desire clouding a normally rational, realistic outlook.

Go home, back to South Side where you belong, Jack Crawford. Learn from this. At least you’ve recovered the capacity to feel, even if it hurts.

He turned at the corner and began to drive back the way he had come.

It could definitely be Jack’s truck, Will thought. No one who lived on this street drove such a vehicle, instead favoring their SUVs and sports cars.

Will was no exception. He raced into the house and grabbed his keys and wallet, sprinting out the door to his Lexus IS 250. If that had been Jack, he must have seen Paul, he must have seen the kiss. Damn that Paul. Damn Jack for not calling first. Damn the rotten timing of the whole thing.

He pulled out of his driveway and drove as quickly as he dared down the residential street in the direction the truck had gone. At the stop sign he turned left, as the truck had done. He saw it up ahead, disappearing around a corner as he made a turn. He pressed the gas, eager to catch up. He would just explain what had happened, if that’s what Jack had witnessed to cause him to drive away.

As he closed in on the truck, he slowed, suddenly wondering what he thought he was doing. Instead of following Jack, he should just call him. He reached for his cell phone and realized he’d left it at home in his study.



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