8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Mars

Even though Ziva technically covered the shop on the weekends, I usually still went in to try and get some work done. But I had enough other things to deal with, so today wasn’t going to be one of those days. I sent her a message to let her know that if she needed me to just call, and then I climbed out of bed.

I still had shopping to do, even though boxes had been steadily pouring in from Amazon , filling up poor Samuel’s garage. Not that he seemed to mind—he didn’t.

As had become our norm, I went into the kitchen to find him at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. I stopped and shook my head. “You do realize it’s Saturday, right? You don’t have to go to work, so what are you doing up so early?”

“Honestly, it’s just habit at this point. You’re up just about as early, and you don’t have to go to work today either, do you?”

“I don’t. Not this Saturday, anyway.”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be up yet, so I haven’t made breakfast.”

“I can cook my own breakfast, you know,” I said. “And I can even double it, like you do, and make some for you.”

He laid down the tablet he’d been holding and looked at me over the top of his glasses.

“Well, you could, but you made dinner last night, so it’s my turn. How about breakfast burritos again? Or would you rather have pancakes?”

“Let’s do the burritos. I love pancakes, but I actually prefer them for dinner instead of breakfast. I know that’s weird, but I’m not a sweet things early in the morning person.”

He laughed and shook his head.

“The lies you tell. I’ve seen the way you take your coffee.”

“Coffee’s different.”

“If you say so.” He pushed back from the table and went to the fridge, pulling out the ingredients for the burritos. “Which do you prefer? Bacon or sausage?”

“Well, that’s a pretty personal question there, Samuel. But just so you know, I’m always here for good sausage.”

“Note to self, Mars likes a good sausage in the morning,” he said with a chuckle.

“That I do, but seriously, let’s do the sausage. I liked the burritos you made the other day.”

“All right then, burritos with spicy sausage coming up.”

It didn’t take long for him to get everything ready. I refreshed our coffee, and we sat down to eat.

“So, Mars, what’s on your agenda for today?”

“Nothing special. Just more shopping and that’s about it. I got a call yesterday from the insurance company, and they’ll be issuing me a check next week, so I guess I should probably start looking at places for rent.”

“Well then, we should get your desk done. Do you have time to work on that this weekend?”

“I do, actually. Most of my shopping is being done online, so I can do that anytime today.”

“Okay, that sounds good. I have a couple of errands to run this morning, but they won’t take me long. When I get back, we can get to work on the dresser.”

“Sounds good to me.” I watched as he walked off and let out a sigh. I’d been staying here for a week now, and for the first few days, I’d been in shock and just trying to get my head on straight. But now that a little time had passed, I was able to think again, and the reality of my situation was sinking in.

I was staying with Samuel. I thought he was sexy AF over ten years ago when Steven and I were nothing but a couple of horny teenagers, but damn, that man had gotten nothing but better with age. And now here I was having breakfast with him each morning, and more often than not over the last week, we’d shared dinner as well.

A guy could only take so much, and last night, when he’d stepped up behind me to look over my shoulder at what I was cooking, I’d about expired on the spot. I’d had to think about the most vile and disgusting things imaginable to get myself under control before I turned back around.

Then this morning, when I made that stupid sausage joke, because seriously, Mars, your game is shit , he kind of maybe flirted back, or maybe he was just as straight as Steven always said and he was talking about actual sausage.

I didn’t know the answer, but what I did know was I wasn’t kidding. I needed to find a place to live. But before I did anything else, I needed to take some time to meditate and get in a better, less Samuel-focused head space.

Because Samuel said he had errands to run and he’d mentioned me not meditating outside if he wasn’t here, I sat down on the floor in Steven’s old room instead.

I flipped through my phone and found a guided meditation to find my focus during times of trial and turned it on.

By the time that was over, I was feeling much calmer, but not in the way I expected. Samuel was the most perfect roommate/partner ever, and I’d jokingly said I was just going to enjoy living with someone like him, but after my meditation, I meant it. Not that I thought I would meet anyone who was half as amazing as Samuel anytime soon, but for this brief time while I had it, I was going to let myself enjoy sharing space with someone who not only appreciated me, but who also took care of me in all the best ways. Well, not all the best ways, but close enough.

Samuel

A few hours later, we—and I say we loosely since I did the majority of the work and Mars mostly watched—had successfully stripped all the varnish off the old dresser and moved on to sanding.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand, glancing over at Mars. He was crouched over the desk, focused, his hands moving carefully with the sandpaper. I’d been watching him for the better part of the last hour, not that he seemed to notice.

“Careful there,” I said, stepping up behind him. “You don’t want to overdo it.”

Mars glanced back over his shoulder. “I can’t get this spot in the corner.”

“Let me see.”

He shifted to the side to make room for me, but his knee brushed mine, lingering just long enough that I had to force myself not to react. If I didn’t know better, I would swear he did it on purpose. But I did know better, right?

I used the corner of the scraper to get up in that corner and then stepped back.

“Those corners can be tricky, but it’s all good now.” I took another step back and looked at our progress. “You know, this is a really nice piece of furniture. I’m glad we could save it.”

He walked around the desk, but his eyes were on me. “I could have bought a new desk, but you know, some things just get better with age.”

I shot him a look, narrowing my eyes. “Watch yourself there, you young whippersnapper.”

Mars laughed, the sound bright and carefree, and I couldn’t help but shake my head at him. The kid had lost almost everything in that fire, and still, here he was, laughing and joking.

He had this quality about him that was so light and easy-going. And when he laughed… damn, when he laughed, his eyes lit up, and I wanted to join in just because.

I’d had to remind myself he was my son’s best friend, practically family, even if I’d only seen him a handful of times in the ten years since they’d graduated high school.

But there were moments, like when he’d told me my glasses were sexy or just now when he made a point to brush against me, when I felt there was something more. At least on his side. As for me… well, I’d been doing my damnedest not to think about it.

“Why don’t you take a break?” I suggested, picking up a rag to dust off the part of the desk we’d already finished. He wasn’t doing a bad job. I just needed a little space. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Mars stood, stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a strip of toned stomach. He caught me looking and gave me a slow grin. “You sure you don’t need some help?”

I forced myself to focus on the task at hand, rubbing down the wood. “I think I can handle it.”

“Yeah, but it’s my desk. Plus, it’s more fun to work together, and you could use a little fun in your life.” He leaned against the workbench, arms crossed, watching me.

“I have plenty of fun.” I put the rag down, turning to face him. “But if you want to help, grab the varnish.”

“Okay, I can do that.” Mars pushed off the workbench and moved past me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. He shot me another grin, knowing full well what he was doing. I watched as he bent down to rummage through the box of supplies, his jeans tight around his thighs.

“Found it!” He held up the can triumphantly and handed it over, his fingers brushing mine.

I cleared my throat, taking a step back. “Good. Now, let’s finish this thing, and then I’ll order us some dinner.”

Mars grinned at me, but the spark in his eyes told me we were playing a different kind of game now. A game where we might both win or both lose big. There was a litany of reasons why I couldn’t afford to play, but damn, the boy was tempting.

If he kept this up, I might have to resort to one of his meditation sessions to keep myself centered and my hands to myself.