Hardwood - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,6

today. Stone peeks his head into my office just as I’m taking off my hat to set it on my desk next to my coffee.

“You know I was just being an ass, right? I know you’re not bothered by the gay stuff.”

“I think we’ve known each other long enough that you being an ass goes without saying.”

He gives me the finger, and we both laugh, some of the heaviness in my shoulders easing. He ducks back out of my office and I slump in my chair. I’m not sure what’s got me in such a mood this morning, aside from the whole admitting to myself that I’m…gay…thing. Eventually I’ll be able to think it without hesitation, right? And maybe even say it out loud with other people around?

But then what?

It crashes down on me all at once that I’m forty-four years old. It’s a bit fucking late for self-discovery, isn’t it? Am I going to start dating men all of a sudden? That’ll go well. Hi handsome stranger, I’m a gay virgin who’s deep in the closet, and I’ve never even kissed a man. Yeah, that should have the boxer briefs hitting the floor.

I turn my attention back to my computer, checking my schedule and then my email. I have a reminder from the school about a parent teacher conference at the end of next week, so I shoot Val a text asking if we’re tag teaming that or what and add it to my schedule so I won’t forget it. After that, I finish an estimate I was working on yesterday and email it, and then I get ready to head out for a kitchen remodel consultation.

Construction might not be the most glamorous career in the world, but no matter how little sense the rest of my life makes at times, the physical nature of getting my hands dirty always feels right.

Chapter 3

Everett

Sitting in my car outside of the familiar bar I’ve never actually set foot inside, something feels different tonight. I feel just a fraction braver than I ever have in the past. This is the night; I can feel it.

I don’t need to go in there and find a hookup. I just need to set foot inside. If I can take that step, anything is possible.

I can have a drink and get a feel for things, observe things like Jane Goodall. With three gay best friends, I’ve been to a gay bar so many times I’ve lost count, but I’ve always worked hard not to pay too much attention to my surroundings. I knew if I looked around too much, caught the eye of someone too interesting, let myself relax, that little voice in the back of my head that’s been telling me for twenty years I’m not straight might rear its ugly head, and I wasn’t ready to deal with it.

Am I ready now? I think the jury is still out on that one. But going into the bar shouldn’t be that hard. I’m ready for that step at least.

I squeeze the steering wheel and let out a long breath in an attempt to release some of the nervous energy raging inside of me.

“You’re going to sit in a bar, that’s it,” I mutter to myself, and clearly, it’s the pep talk of the year. “Get your ass out of the car,” I command more sternly when the first words of encouragement fail to get me moving.

I manage to pry my hands off the steering wheel and get out of the car. The night is cool, a reminder that it’s nearly October. Livi has already changed her mind three times about what she wants to be for Halloween. I learned my lesson two years ago when I bought her the first costume she requested. Now I’m smart enough to wait until the week before. Thinking about my daughter has my stomach twisting in a knot. She’s just one of many reasons why dating should be the last thing on my mind.

On the bright side, my thoughts of Livi are distracting enough that I’ve made it to the door of the bar before I even realize it. I stop dead in my tracks and stare at the door. I’ve never made it this far, and I’m not about to turn back now. My heart pounds so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t burst right through my chest. I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and take a few deep breaths. I can do this.

I square my shoulders