Chapter 4

Jakob

Rhett was too tempting, and also as skittish as a rabbit. I hadn't gotten to fool around with many guys, having roommates most of my life and getting uncomfortable reactions from my previous co-workers, but I knew about attraction.

People who went out of their way to hide from you, learning your schedule so they weren't around when you came by, but who constantly followed you with their eyes… Yeah. They didn't want you noticing how much they were into you. That or Rhett hated me.

No, even if Rhett disliked me as a person, or the fact I'd taken his father's job, I could see how the younger man reacted to me, physically.

The way Rhett's breath went faster and his pupils dilated when we spoke or got close enough for me to see, I knew. He found me attractive, too.

When I got the opportunity to flirt and tease him a bit, he didn't back down or run away scared. He met my challenge and sent shocks of arousal through my body when he talked about handling wood.

Putting my hands on Rhett had my cock waking up like nothing else. My bare skin against his soft, cotton shirt, I wished we had nothing between us. Would he be tame and submissive under me, calling my name, or would he beg me for more? I wanted to find out, and I was again glad I'd found out Rhett was of age.

While I had kept from getting myself off to the thought of him since I'd moved in next door, I knew that streak was going to end when he'd turned to me and stared at my lips like he wanted to dive in.

God, did I want him to, and I was seconds away from asking permission, only waiting to see if he'd ask first. Then fucking Helga had to show up and butt in.

"Rhettel," she'd called him, and I had a feeling it wasn't a sweet use of the nickname like his brother. She was pissed off that the young man had been in my arms, the same arms she kept trying to worm her way into.

"Helga." I acknowledged her presence when Rhett stepped away from me as fast as possible. I pulled the axe out of the block and held it in front of me to try and hide the erection trying to break free from my pants. Shirtless, it was in real danger of making an appearance.

Helga didn't lose her sour-grapes expression as she sauntered toward us, and I noticed a drink in her hand. Rhett was stacking my cut wood and avoiding eye contact with his stepmother and me.

"Beer?" Helga held out the mug, and I wondered if she would ever stop offering me drinks.

"No, thank you." I shook my head and leaned around the wood block to grab my water canteen. Taking a drink before holding it out toward Rhett, I tried to ignore Helga's presence.

He eyed the container but shook his head. "Thanks, but I'm going to head home."

Dammit. We'd had a moment, and now he was running skittish again. Rhett glanced back only once, right before he disappeared around my place, biting his lip with a look of regret that I felt to my core.

We would have a moment again. I would make sure of it.

"What were you doing with her?" Helga's sharp tone caught my attention before I realized who she was talking about.

What. A. Bitch.

"My axe?" I asked with false innocence, lifting the tool as if I didn't know what a bigot she was being about her stepson.

"Not your axe." Helga rolled her eyes, a bad habit that made her look more immature than anything. "That child."

Helga's tone was laced with undertones of accusation. Rhett was a child to her, but I wasn't. She saw herself as my contemporary, even though she had to be more than a decade my senior, whereas Rhett was only a few years younger than me. Helga was implying I was robbing the cradle, and I wasn't down with it, or how she talked about Rhett.

Helga had made it clear Rhett was trans, as if I would find that a reason to avoid talking to him. I didn't care one way or another. If I didn't say something, she would continue thinking I was fine with her prejudice.

"Rhett is not a child." I dropped my tool and pulled my shirt out of my back pocket to put it back on. Her eyes followed the movement of my arms with hunger, and all I saw was how ugly she was inside. "I was teaching him how to cut wood with a heavier axe."

"Well, one could hope that one would learn a skill." Helga ignored my pointed words and took a sip from the beer she had brought for me.

"I'm sure he has many skills, what with taking care of his father and the house," I reasoned, buttoning up my flannel and scrunching the sleeves up. I needed a shower, and I wasn't above fleeing to my own cabin.

The sooner I was away from her, the better.

"Anyone can sweep floors, but it doesn't pay the bills," Helga argued, sloshing beer in her effort to follow me. "Not like you, with natural talent and a passion for your career."

I turned before I opened my front door and Helga almost ran into my back. Was she planning to follow me?

I looked over my shoulder and narrowed my eyes at her. "I cut wood. It's not rocket science."

Helga reached out her empty hand to grip my hairy forearm with her long red nails, and I bristled at her touch. "Don't sell yourself short. You're a real man."

Fucking hell. I hated everything she said.

"So is Rhett."

Helga dropped my arm like it burned her, her eyes widening a fraction as wheels turned behind her gaze. "Of course."

Thinking the conversation was over, I turned to escape–ah, go inside. "Goodnight, Helga."

"So, perhaps you should train him."

Helga's words had me freezing with my hand on the doorknob. Her emphasis on Rhett's pronoun, as if actually listening to my point about misgendering him, had me almost missing the part about training.

"What?"

"Well, Hansel is in school and likely to go off to University, so long as he saves up to pay the fees." Helga added the quantifier as if a few hundred euro would be too much for her to pitch in. "That means years of covering our costs with a sick husband on my own. The other one needs some usable skill to contribute."

"The other one?" I asked, before realizing she meant Rhett. "Doesn't he take care of Mr. Hinder and your house? And do cleaning for others as well?"

"House cleaning is not a career," Helga scoffed before drinking from the beer again. "I didn't marry Noah so I could work even harder than when I was single."

The reply that she still acted single was on the tip of my tongue, but I refrained.

The truth was that I wouldn't mind training Rhett. He wasn't the size of most woodcutters, but a helper who I enjoyed being around would be nice. Plus, it meant more time for him to be away from Helga and the duties of caring for his dad.

"Sure, Mrs. Hinder. I'll train him," I replied with emphasis on her married name, and turned to dismiss her again, but Helga's voice followed me inside.

"Noah and I appreciate you helping that worthless child."

I had to wonder if the woman realized how ugly those mean words made her.