Broken Warrior (The Weavers Circle 1)

As Dane opened the door to the tiny apartment, he cringed. It wasn’t a total disaster. He hadn’t been overly worried about its appearance, since he was the only one ever moving around the rooms. It wasn’t like he was expecting to ever entertain in there. He quickly snatched up a dirty shirt he’d tossed on one of the kitchen chairs and threw it over his shoulder while he grabbed a dirty plate and cup from the night before to drop in the sink.

“Sorry about the mess,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Clay called to his retreating back as Dane pushed on through the living room, grabbing clothes and kicking a pair of old shoes under the coffee table.

The apartment was a decent size and arranged in a shotgun style with the kitchen leading to the living room and then to the bathroom and finally the one bedroom. Plenty of space for him to relax at the end of the day. And amazingly, the apartment had been kept up and clean where the rest of the house was a bit of a disaster. Dane hadn’t needed to do any work in order to move in.

He tossed all the clothes onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it from his eyes. He wouldn’t let himself glance in the mirror as he crossed through the bathroom. There was no reason to worry about his appearance, because he was not allowed to think of Clay in that way.

“You know,” Clay started when Dane reappeared in the living room, “I never properly thanked you for helping to haul my wounded ass out of that truck.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m serious.” Clay ran a hand through his hair and stared at the floor, looking so adorably uncomfortable and awkward. As if he wasn’t accustomed to having someone help him, even in the smallest way. “Thanks for your help, particularly at the crack of dawn yesterday. I was so out of it. And that woman…Jo…she’s so tiny. I don’t think she could have managed on her own. If you hadn’t shown up, I think I would have ended up spending the day on the front lawn.”

“It’s no problem. Are you feeling okay now? I was sure yesterday that we needed to take you to the hospital.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Just looked worse than I was. Some good sleep went a long way to getting me on my feet again.”

Even after an entire day of sleep, Dane wasn’t entirely convinced, but he kept his comments to himself.

“Let’s get some breakfast together,” Dane said and started for the kitchen while Clay backed out of the doorway and moved over to the two-seat kitchen table.

Dane quickly poured him a mug of coffee and set it along with cream and sugar on the table. Then he began pulling out whatever he had on hand for breakfast—eggs, bacon, bread for some French toast. By the time he had everything on the stove and cooking, his stomach was making demands.

“Have you been working on the house long?” Clay asked after several minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence. He’d already refilled his mug once, and Dane was contemplating brewing a second pot.

“About a month. First week was spent crawling over the entire place and making a list of everything that needs to be done.”

“Large list?”

Dane snorted and shook his head. “That’s an understatement. The house stood empty for thirty years, and then the last people living here hadn’t updated a lot of things. But some big things have been checked off the list or at least scheduled.”

Clay gave a happy sigh. “Like that bathroom.”

Dane laughed again. “I was thinking more like the new central air has been installed. The roofers are dropping off supplies today. They’re going to start work tomorrow. Said it should take only three days to replace the roof.”

“And you’re planning to work on the kitchen next?”

Dane nodded as he started piling food on a pair of plates. “It’ll take a bit, but I’ll see what I can get done quickly so that you can use the room for the basics. I’ll also get at least a mini fridge to hold you over until the new one arrives.”

“Thanks. And if you need help with anything, I can be pretty handy. I know which end of the hammer to use, and I’ve done some sanding and painting.”

Danger! Danger! Danger!

No way was he working with Clay on this house. It was bad enough they were going to sit down to a cozy breakfast at the world’s smallest kitchen table. There was no way he could tolerate working side-by-side with Clay. His brain was already cooking up more fantasies about the man than he could handle. And the more he was exposed to the man, the worse it would get.

Mmm…exposed.

“Thanks, but I think I’ve got it under control. I’ve contracted out the big stuff I can’t handle alone,” Dane said as he turned off the stove and carried the two plates over to the table. He set one in front of Clay, and his mouth kept going even while his sense of self-preservation was screaming for him to halt. “But if I’ve got any drywall that needs to be sanded or any painting to be done, I’ll be sure to find you.”