Page 78 of In at the Deep End

“I found these online.” He bent down, and Owen caught a whiff of sweat and clean cotton.

Far too close.

Hastily, he moved his book lower before peering at the screen. He was looking at light grey square tiles, set in a garden. “Porcelain tiles? Don’t they usually go in kitchens and bathrooms?”

“They also go outdoors.” Matt gestured to the pool. “And they’d look amazing here. Plus they’re weatherproof, easy to clean…”

That smell was tantalising.

“Okay, you’ve sold me. What do we do with all this lot, though?”

“Easy. Lift them up, clean them off, sell them.” Matt crouched down, placing his hand flat on the nearest slab. “How heavy do you reckon they are?”

Owen tried not to stare at flexing thigh muscles. “Heavy enough that I don’t fancy doing it myself.” He paused. “But then again, that’s why I hired you. Because you came with muscles.” Matt glanced up, and Owen blinked. “Manpower. That was the word I was looking for.”

Matt’s mouth twitched.

Owen cleared his throat. “That… that didn’t come out right.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” There wasn’t even a hint of mockery in Matt’s voice.

That made it worse.

“I’ll go and get the wheelbarrow, then I’ll make a start on moving the extra slabs to the front of the house. You know, get them out of the way. Then I’ll work out how many tiles we’ll need.” Matt strolled in the direction of the shed.

Owen watched him go.

New shorts. That white vest. The fact that Matt had somehow managed to appear older and younger at the same time. And unless he was very much mistaken, Matt had wanted him to notice.

Owen leaned back on the lounger and closed his eyes.

Don’t even think about it.

Matt wiped sweat from his forehead with the hem of his vest. “Phew. It’s getting warmer.”

Owen uncapped another bottle of water and wandered over. “Hydrate.” Matt took it, and their fingers brushed. Owen let go almost immediately.

Too quickly.

He took two steps backwards before he realised he’d done it.

Idiot.

Matt drank half the bottle in one go before lowering it with a satisfied sigh.

“You’ll thank me more in an hour,” Owen informed him.

He arched his eyebrows. “I will?”

Owen chuckled. “When your back still works.”

Matt grinned. “So now you’re concerned about my body.”

“Your back,” he corrected. “You know, the bit that’s currently engaged in lifting paving slabs.”

Matt’s smile widened another fraction before he went back to work.

This is Jeff’s son. Twenty-five. Straight. So for God’s sake, stop noticing.