Never Again – 19

 

"You're late," Cal grumbled, after Joseph parked his car in front of the house they were working on and came to join him.

"So shoot me. I got tied up in traffic."

Cal actually grinned, barely. "Maybe once we're finished here."

"Something to look forward to."

"Getting shot? Or finishing?"

Joseph chuckled. "Finishing. I'd rather pass on getting shot. It hurts like hell."

"No shit." Cal was back to scowling when he turned on his heel, walking swiftly around the house toward the back.

Oh boy. Guess I hit a nerve on that one. 

Since, according to what Cal had said last evening, they were finished with the clean-up, Joseph only grabbed work gloves and a cap when he followed Cal.

"So what's on the agenda for today?"

Cal pointed to a large stack of Sheetrock leaning against the back of the house. "You ever put this stuff up?"

"Nope, but I'm a fast learner."

"Let's hope. We'll start with the living room." Cal grabbed one side of the top piece, waited for Joseph to get the other side and they set to work.

* * * *

By the end of the morning Joseph knew more about installing drywall than he ever wanted to. Cal was a good teacher, which impressed Joseph, only barking at him a couple of times when he was still trying to get the hang of taping.

"Lunch?" Joseph asked when he stepped back to admire their handiwork in the now-finished living room.

"Yeah. Same place as yesterday, unless you got somewhere else you'd like to go."

"Nope. Your car or mine?"

"Yours, since you designated 'car'," Cal replied with a grin. When they got outside, he stripped off his coveralls, tossing them and his gloves on the pile of Sheetrock.

Joseph followed suit and his gaze locked on Cal for a moment. Once again the man was wearing something that accented his hard, muscular body. This time it was a tank and shorts. Joseph felt a flash of lust, which vanished as quickly as it had flared up. Don't go there. He's not up for grabs—wouldn't be even if he wasn't straight. Besides, I'm not looking.

Thus he was surprised when Cal commented casually, "For a rich boy, you take care of yourself."

Sure, he was wearing a tank and shorts as well, but somehow he didn't think he came close to measuring up to Cal physically, despite the fact he was a shifter. So he shrugged, replying, "I try to keep in shape when I get the chance."

"You're getting it now." Cal chuckled, as he started toward the street. "Come on, rich boy. Let's go eat."

* * * *

"Now you get to see I can handle them," Cal said, ordering two hot sausage po'boys.

Joseph laughed, ordering one, too, and a beer. "I never really doubted it."

"Sure you didn't." Cal leaned back, studying Joseph much the way he had when they'd first met. "I still don't get it. Why are you willing to put yourself through this?"

"The work? Like I told you, I want to do more than…" Joseph paused, digging into his pocket for the envelope with the check, which he handed to Cal.

Cal opened it, his eyes widening when he saw the amount of the check. "Holy hell," he whispered, looking at Joseph. "What did you do, sell the family jewels?"

Joseph snorted in amusement. "Nope. I like them right where they are."

It took Cal a moment to get it then he laughed. "Yeah, I suppose you do. Thanks for this." He held up the check. "It'll go a long way toward making some people's dreams of a new life come true."

"That's the idea."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Cal, I'm sure. Believe me, I don't do things unless I want to." He smiled when Cal carefully put the check in his wallet, still looking a bit shocked.

"Can I ask, umm, did owning the news site really make you that much money? Okay, forget it. It's none of my business."

"That's okay. It didn't by itself. I inherited a sizable fortune and put some of it to work, which earned me more. I guess you could call me a one-percenter, although I do pay my taxes, all of them, without resorting to shenanigans."

"The government must love you for that."

"They don't complain," Joseph agreed with a laugh.

Their food arrived at that point and this time, unlike yesterday, they talked as they ate, discussing what came next once they finished with the house they were working on at the moment. Cal seemed surprised that Joseph intended to continue helping out but accepted it, telling him about two more houses that were in the process of being cleaned up.

"How did you get into this in the first place?" Joseph asked at one point, since none of the information he'd read had told him. "And more to the point, why?"

"The 'why' is easy, for the same reason you're here—to help people. The 'how' is a bit more complicated. I decided not to re-up when my tour of duty was over. They sent me back here, processed me at the base then let me go with my discharge papers in hand. The problem was, I really had no place to go that was mine." Cal stopped, looking at Joseph. "Why am I telling you all this?"

"Because I asked?" Joseph replied with a smile.

"Yeah, well it's not something I talk about," he growled.

"If it makes you nervous, then don't. I was just interested."

"Why?" Cal's expression was tight and distrustful now.

Joseph chuckled, hoping to defuse the situation, which seemed to be getting worse by the moment, at least on Cal's side. "My newspaper gene kicking in I guess."

"Well kick it out." Cal took the last bite of his po'boy, washed it down with a swallow of beer and stood, tossing some money on the table. "Time to get back to work."

The drive back to the site was filled with silence, Cal staring out the passenger window the whole way. From what little Joseph could see of his face, he was not a happy man by a long shot. It wasn't until they were back in their coveralls and ready to start on the next room that Cal finally said, tersely, "Sorry."

"No problem. We all have things we'd rather keep to ourselves."

"Even you?"

"Even me."