Wake My Heart (Jasper Falls 1)

Ryan gave one of the two-by-fours a kick with his boot. “This will probably come down. It’s not like it’s a load bearing wall or anything.”

His cousin inspected the craftmanship. “If you sheetrock it, you could close off the laundry area. That way if clothes pile up you can still entertain down here.”

“True.” Though Ryan didn’t know who he’d be entertaining aside from his two thousand cousins.

Part of the reason he moved to this side of town was to get away from his many, often prying, relatives. His big, Irish Catholic family was literally everywhere in Center County. Anyone who wasn’t a Clooney, McCullough, or an O’Leahey, was usually married to one or related by marriage. It made the dating pool a very narrow, shallow place to swim.

“I’d definitely tile down here.” Luke’s inspection had moved on to the water heater beneath the stairs. “Basements have a tendency to get damp. I have a tile cutter. We could bang this out in a day with Tristan’s help.”

Tristan was Luke’s husband, who also happened to be Ryan’s best friend from college. After a nasty falling out with his family in Texas, Tristan followed Ryan back to Center County and became a sort of surrogate brother. Luke, Ryan’s cousin and childhood best friend, instantly clicked with him. It took years for the two to come out, but when they did, no one was surprised. They were ridiculously happy and now the proud fathers of a beautiful little girl.

“Yo!” Speak of the devil. Tristan’s heavy boots traveled down the wooden stairs, kicking dust into the musty air. “Am I unloading this crap by myself?”

“We’re coming. We were just talking about what a great bar Ry could make down here.” Luke grinned. “I’m seeing a huge flat screen on that wall.” He framed the space by holding his hands out, his thumbs and forefingers shaping a square.

Tristan stood on the lowest step, holding on to the cement overhang, as if afraid to get sucked into the space. “That would be awesome, and we can talk about it later. Right now we got a truck full of boxes that needs unloading, and Alexia has a dance class in a few hours. It’s our turn to take her.”

Alexia was their daughter. Luke and Tristan had initially been turned down for adoption, so they’d gone the less traditional route. Alexia was biologically Tristan and Sheilagh’s kid. They all shared custody and somehow made it work.

Alexia, poor thing, had three dads, Tristan, Luke, and Alec, Sheilagh’s husband. Boys wouldn’t stand a chance when she reached dating age. Luckily, those days were a long way off.

Ryan followed Tristan up the stairs into the kitchen. “We can get the truck emptied quickly and then you guys can go do your dad thing. I appreciate you giving me a hand on your day off.”

Tristan clapped a heavy hand on his back. “That’s what family’s for.”

Not always, Ryan thought, remembering the guilt trip his mother laid on him the day he announced he’d bought a house. Apparently, moving beyond a mile from an Irish mother’s womb was a capital crime in their culture.

The woman lit about twenty candles and said eight rosaries for him in the past week. It was perfectly normal to leave the nest at his age, but his mother saw it as some sort of betrayal.

Why couldn’t he stay home and save his money? He should wait until he met a nice girl to marry, wait until he was ready to start a family. On the verge of turning thirty, he wasn’t sure that would ever happen for him.

Ryan was finished waiting for his life to start and sick of watching everyone pair off around him, so he decided to plan for a future alone. And he was fine with that—or so he told himself on a regular basis.

All his cousins were now married and having children. Christ, even some of his cousins’ kids were starting to date. He needed breathing room.

Ryan and Tristan carried several more loads into the house, plopping boxes in the empty room he assumed was the dining room.

“Luke!” Tristan snapped as they passed through the kitchen with another armful of boxes. “I’m not going to be late for Alexia’s class. Get your ass up here and help.”

“I’m coming!” Luke barked from the basement.

Metal screeched from below and Ryan paused at the kitchen door, his brows lifting in concern. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah, Luke knows how to fix just about anything. He’s probably just giving your boiler a proper inspection.”

Ryan nodded and followed him into the dining room. Tristan stomped off toward the truck as Luke came up the basement steps, wiping oil off his hands with a smudged rag.

Watching his husband leave in a huff, Luke rolled his eyes. “He’s going to give himself a coronary if he doesn’t chill out. He’s becoming one of those helicopter parents we used to make fun of.”