Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

project? We can finish the tour later," Marcus said, leading me back down the hall. As we walked, his hand trailed down my shoulder to rest against my lower back. I could feel the outline of his fingers like a brand and his touch did nothing but increase the heat I was feeling. I picked up my pace by half a step, hoping his hand would fall away, but he increased his own pace to keep up with me.
    Their concern seemed genuine and I tried not to resent the effect they had on me. Once I was settled—choosing a ridiculously plush armchair, so no one could sit beside me—I started to feel better. The icy cold glass Bryan placed in my hand did even more to ground me and I began to feel like myself again.
    The project was a dream job for me and I felt like it was too good to be true. After doing construction work for years, along with landscaping and other odd jobs, getting to put all my skills to work on a home like this would be incredibly gratifying. Marcus and Bryan clearly loved this house, and, unlike most of the jobs I'd worked in the past, they didn't want to cut corners—they wanted a home they could be proud of; a home that would last their lifetime and beyond.
    The idea of the two of them trying to do some of this work on their own was almost comical. Not that either of them wasn't fit, but it takes more than a little muscle to refinish a whole floor's worth of rooms or knock out a wall to create a full-size library from a den and adjoining study. The cracked drywall was evidence of their less-than-successful attempt, and I kept my mouth shut about some of the scratches on the hardwood. No reason to call attention to the damage they'd already done. It'd just be a bit more work for me, and at least I had the tools to repair it.
    Bryan caught me looking, though. "You can see what we got up to," he said with a shrug and a guilty grin.
    "What who got up to?" Marcus chimed in. "I'm sorry, whose idea was that?"
    Bryan hid his head in his hands. "Here he goes again. 'Bryan got it into his head to knock out the wall himself...'"
    "Bryan got it into his head to knock out the wall himself," Marcus deadpanned the echo. "And he didn't count on the plaster flying everywhere and covering the bookshelf. So Bryan tried to move the bookshelf by himself..."
    "...without taking the books off it. I know!" Bryan shook his head. "Guilty, guilty, guilty. Thus we are hiring a seasoned professional who hopefully knows what he's doing."
    "You better be glad I like you so much," Marcus said, slinging his arm over Bryan's shoulder. "Otherwise I'd never forgive you."
    "You better be glad I like you back," Bryan rejoined. "Or I'd never let you tell this story in the first place."
    They went back and forth like this for a bit, and I kept looking from one to the other, following the ping-pong volley of their conversation with a good-natured smile on my face and envy in my heart. I'd seen relationships fall apart over smaller things. Somehow, these two had mastered the art of learning and laughing over their attempts gone wrong. And they were closer and happier for having survived each failed experiment. It was a lesson most of the world could stand to learn.
    "Well Tony, I think you're exactly what we've been looking for. How soon can you start?" I noticed Bryan squeeze Marcus' knee as he spoke.
    "Don't you want to check my references?" I asked, surprised. I'd expected the interview to be far more rigorous.
    "No need, we've got a good feeling about you," Bryan answered. They looked at me with matching smiles, their expressions open and trusting. Despite my concerns I needed the job, and agreed to return the next day with my few belongings. They saw me to the door together and I walked down the street in a daze, feeling like my life was about to change.
    ****
    The next day I returned as promised, a duffel bag over one shoulder and a box balanced on my hip. Everything I could call my own in this world, reduced to what most people would consider scant for a week's vacation.
    Marcus answered the door and immediately came forward to take the box from me, Bryan appeared behind him and held the door wide as we entered. As I stepped into the house the smell of freshly made coffee enveloped me and I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. It had been a long time since I'd had the good stuff.
    Bryan, clearly noticing my reaction, spoke up, "Go ahead and follow Marcus up with your things, I'll meet you upstairs with coffee in a minute." Marcus was already