Page 68 of Fall for Him

“Yeah?”

“Yep. None of this shopping it and feeling it out. That’s weak shit. You gotta go for it.” Derek smirked. “Like this… you know why you shouldn’t have gay men working on expensive flooring?”

“Why?”

“Because no homosexual man can be trusted around that amount of high-quality hardwood.”

“That was awful. I’m embarrassed for you.” Dylan’s forced grimace couldn’t hide his laughter, so he caught the twisted front of the towel and drew Derek’s hips toward him.

“Hey…” The soft way Derek’s eyebrows pulled together drove Dylan wild.

“Caught you.” Mischief edged Dylan’s voice.

“You better let go.”

“Technically, that’s my towel.”

“But it’s my hardwood behind it.” Derek’s arms-crossed stance emphasized the cut of his pecs in a way that was, frankly, unfair.

“I think I proved last night that I know what I’m doing with all of the most important tools. A veritable genius in fact.”

“Might need another demonstration of your skills to be sure your initial result wasn’t a fluke.” His expression was completely deadpan. “After all, there are a lot of techniques and variables that cannot be judged on a single task.”

“Are you saying you need a few more demonstrations of my expertise to be assured of my overall level of tool mastery?”

“I certainly wouldn’t say no to a new project with expanding scope.” Derek traced Dylan’s jaw with his thumb while his eyes laughed. “That’s as far as I can go with the construction metaphors though. I don’t think I’ve ever done any work with two-by-fours. Saws scare the shit out of me. But I can go to town on sex puns about drills or screws.”

“Really?”

“I had a few catastrophes trying to learn shit off YouTube before I gave up. Never learned that stuff.” Derek shrugged. “My dad died when I was sixteen. He was sick for a while before that, so it wasn’t like we were framing up walls on the weekends.”

“I’m so sorry…” Dylan released the towel back to Derek, wishing he’d known this before. “That… god, that just sucks.”

“Yeah.” With a shrug, Derek shifted back into the playful tone. “I’m a whiz with that tiny hexagon thing though.”

“An Allen wrench?” Dylan smiled.

“Yep. Expert-level Ikea furniture builder.”

“Impressive.” Dylan gave him a soft closed-mouth peck, hopefully balancing the playfulness Derek wanted with some tenderness. “I’m really sorry about your dad though.”

“It was a long time ago.” Derek looked down and adjusted his towel. “Did you see the text from your uncle?”

Derek didn’t seem inclined to say anything else about his dad, so Dylan let it go.

“No, pretty much was a corpse until my sister’s screams reanimated me.”

Derek chuckled and mussed his hair. “Well, the water’s back on in the bathroom downstairs, Frankenstein. Got the major pipes fixed this morning. Kitchen’s plumbing still’s a mess though.”

“Oh… interesting.”

“Interesting?

“Can’t help but notice you could’ve easily gone downstairs to shower.” He touched Derek’s hair still shiny with water.

“Meh, I had to stick around to make sure you weren’t dead. You didn’t budge when I tried to wake you up after Gus’s walk.” He checked his watch.

“What time is it?”

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