14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Callum

Wincing at the pull of skin as he pushed himself up, Callum swung his legs over the edge of the bed and took a deep breath, readying himself for the day. Despite spending the afternoon resting after the doctor's visit, his body still ached from the exertion of the last few days. Thankfully the pain in his arm was improving.

As he wandered out to the kitchen with his old work boots in hand, he was glad of the cheap clothes he'd purchased the day before—tough work pants, a checked shirt, and thick new socks. He stood in the doorway for a moment taking in the scene, a scene he'd come to look forward to and was the highlight of his day.

Trent was sipping from a mug of coffee pouring over papers that were spread out across the kitchen table. His dark hair was mussed, his usually carefully trimmed beard had thickened, and he had a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He looked adorable, if a little frazzled. His face lit up when he noticed Callum in the doorway, a change from the worry that had been written there lately.

"Morning, Cal."

Callum couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "Morning."

Trent glanced at his attire and raised an eyebrow. "You look like you're ready for a hard day's work. Maybe you should change into some sweats and laze in front of the TV instead."

"Figured I should start helping out." He pushed off the door frame and made his way into the room. "Can't just sit around feeling sorry for myself, right?"

Trent huffed. "You absolutely can. You need to recover, mate. Doctor's orders."

"Thanks for the concern, but I want to help." He couldn't stand the idea of being useless while Trent worked to clean up the aftermath of the fire. He put his boots near his seat and padded on socked feet to the coffee machine.

"All right, all right." Trent held up his hands in surrender. He must have heard the stubbornness in his tone. "Just don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

"I won't."

Trent's answering smile was worth the promise. "Help yourself to granola. I left the container on the counter and there's some of that honey yoghurt in the fridge."

"Sounds good." Callum placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of Trent and got a bowl of Trent's amazing homemade granola before sitting opposite him. It was surprising how exhausted he was after just that small amount of exertion, but he was glad Trent wasn't treating him with kid gloves. He also knew that Trent was right; pushing himself too soon would only slow his recovery. Frustration bubbled up; he hated feeling trapped indoors while there was work to be done.

"Hey," Trent said looking up from the paperwork. "I'm airing the house out, but I want to remove the curtains for washing. The smoke has gotten into all the fabric. Could you give me a hand with that? I could do it by myself, but it's a bit cumbersome."

Callum nodded, grateful for the opportunity to contribute. "Yeah, sure thing."

As soon as breakfast was over, they moved to the sitting room, the more formal room used by guests. Trent usually hung out in his own private living room at the back of the house.

Callum stood next to the window, holding the thick fabric of the curtains in his hands, a task that didn't strain his arm too much. Sunlight filtered through the window where the view was an eerie grey landscape with only the green near the house remaining. Callum shook his head to clear the memories of the fire and focused back on Trent, who was up on a chair. Why did a man who hated heights spend so much time in the air?

"Careful up there. Wouldn't want you to fall and join the walking wounded," Callum joked, indicating his arm.

Trent rolled his eyes, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, come on. It's just a chair, not a skyscraper."

Callum smirked. "Still, I've seen you in action. You're lucky you've got me here to support you."

"Ah, my knight in shining armour." Trent chuckled, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Exactly." Callum grinned. It was nice to joke and laugh after the tough couple of days they'd both had.

He watched as Trent carefully unhooked the curtains one by one. Despite the fear of heights, Trent moved with purpose and determination. Callum admired that about him—no matter the obstacle, he always took on the challenge.

"Hey, Trent?" Callum said as he sidestepped to gather up more of the material.

"Yeah?"

"How are you staying so positive through all this? I mean, your business has taken a hit, you've got all this additional work, and yet you're still smiling."

Trent shrugged and jumped down from the chair. "Got to take the good with the bad, I guess."

"There's good?"

Trent took the curtains from him. "I've been on the phone with the insurance company this morning. That's one thing I didn't skimp on when setting up the business. They'll cover the damages, so it's just a matter of getting everything cleaned up and repaired."

"Still, it's a lot of work." His gaze drifted to the blackened remnants of his cottage visible through the window.

"Nothing we can't handle," Trent said.

"The fence is gone, the garden…" God, he felt so useless.

Trent tilted his head and studied him for a moment. "You know what might help? Why don't you write a list of tasks we need to do to get everything back in order? Maybe start with the outside jobs. It'll give us a focus and help us stay organised."

"Now that I can do."

"Great." Trent gave Callum's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "How about you get started while I get these packed up ready for the dry cleaners? I can't wait to get the stink out of the house."

Callum settled into the worn wooden chair at the kitchen table, and with pen and paper in hand, began to write out the list Trent had suggested. It felt damn good to be proactive even with his limited mobility.

"Okay, first up," he murmured to himself, jotting down the first item on the list. "Power-washing the weatherboards and prepping them for repainting." They were going to be repainted anyway, so it wasn't a wasted task, and that gave him a reason to smile. The list grew longer, with tasks like checking the roof and gutters, clearing away the remnants of the burnt fence, rebuilding the arbour, preparing the gardens for fresh plantings, tidying up the remains of the cottage. Each item represented a step forward in reclaiming their lives, a small victory against the damage left by the fire.

"Hey, how's that list coming along?" Trent asked, stepping into the kitchen and going to the fridge.

"Making progress." Callum tapped his pen against the paper as he re-read the last item on the list. He couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the loss of the cottage and his possessions, but he pushed those thoughts aside. There was no point feeling sorry for himself and he was better off focusing on the tasks that lay ahead. Eventually he set the pen down.

"Finished?" Trent asked, depositing a bottle of water in front of him and peering over his shoulder at the neat rows of tasks.

"Feels good to have a plan," Callum admitted.

"Absolutely," Trent agreed, clapping Callum on the back before heading over to the sink. "How about a cuppa before we get a bit more done inside?" he said over his shoulder.

The afternoon flew by and before he knew it, with a belly full of homemade soup sourced from the freezer, he collapsed onto the couch and Trent sank down next to him.

"Bloody hell, I didn't realise how knackered I was," Trent mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he leaned back into the cushions.

"Me neither," Callum said, although in reality he felt as if he'd done very little.

Trent turned his head to meet his gaze. "Thanks for helping me today. I can tell you were itching to get outdoors."

Callum chucked. "And thanks for getting me to write out the list to give me something to do."

Trent winked before reaching for the remote and turning on the television. "Want to watch anything in particular?"

"Nah, I'm too tired to concentrate."

"Okay." Trent left the channel where it was and tossed the remote onto the coffee table.

The flickering light cast shadows on the walls and they fell into an easy silence as the low volume of the TV provided background noise.

"What even is this show?" Trent eventually asked, as they watched dark clad figures around a campfire in the forest with emotive music playing in the background.

"Beats me, but it's kind of mesmerising, isn't it?"

By the time a man was sucking the life from the throat of a dark-haired girl, Trent was nearly asleep. Callum gave him a gentle nudge. "Hey, how about turning in for the night?"

Trent blinked a few times in the dim light. "Mmm… sounds good." He hauled himself from the couch. "Night, Cal."

Feeling the exhaustion catching up to him, Callum decided it was time for him to hit the sack as well. He turned off the TV and lamp, before checking the kitchen door was locked and turning the lights out. As he stepped into the dimly lit hallway, he halted abruptly at the sight of Trent clad only in boxer briefs as he opened the linen cupboard. His breath hitched as his gaze roamed over Trent's slim, toned body. Fuck, he's beautiful.

Trent must have sensed his presence and looked his way. Even in the low light, he could see the hint of pink colouring his cheeks. "Er… sorry, didn't mean to block the hallway. Just needed to grab a fresh towel."

"Ah, no worries," Callum said, trying to keep his composure. "I've… ah… I locked up." he added like a blubbering fool. Was that a scar on Trent's belly right where the muscle indented?

"Guess we're both ready to hit the sack then, huh?" Trent said.

Callum's eyes flew to his face, their eyes locking as arousal pooled in his belly. "Ah, sure," he said and finally managed to break the strange stare they had going. "Sleep well, Trent."

"Um, yeah. Sweet dreams, Cal." For a moment Trent looked like he was going to say something else, but then he turned and headed back into his room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Callum alone in the hallway, his pulse racing as he tried to process the charged moment they'd just shared.