“You’ve not done this much, have you?”
“Done what?” Ed hedged, knowing full well what Oliver was referring to and felt his hackles rise a little. Knowing it wasn’t his strong suit didn’t make it any easier to admit.
“DIY, decorating, home improvement.” He didn’t sound amused or like he was taking the piss, just genuinely curious, so Ed relaxed a little and sighed.
“No.” He stroked his jaw, the prickle of too-long stubble reminding him he needed to shave. “I try and avoid it if at all possible.”
Oliver nodded as if that response made sense.
“Am I that obvious?” Ed wondered what impression he was making if Oliver read him that easily.
“Well...” Oliver glanced around them. “I’d sort of expected to see dust sheets and paint supplies, but...”
But Ed hadn’t prepared anything. He grimaced. “To be honest, time kind of got away from me yesterday and this morning. I do have dust sheets and painting supplies—believe it or not—I just haven’t got around to getting them out of the garage.” Heat flooded his cheeks. “Sorry for wasting your time like this. Want to come back another time when I’m more prepared?”
Oliver’s horrified expression took him by surprise. “No! I wasn’t having a go.” He put his hand on Ed’s arm, grip warm and firm. “I’m more than happy to help you with the prep as well as the actual painting or whatever.” The smile he flashed Ed was both reassuring and encouraging, and returning it came easy.
“Thank you.” Ed’s worries about it being awkward between them seemed unfounded. They might have only met recently, but Oliver had a way about him that made it feel so much longer. He also had a confident air that made Ed want to hand over all responsibility. A nice change from having to make all the decisions. “Where shall we start?”
If Oliver was surprised by Ed’s willingness to let him lead, he didn’t show it. “Hmm.” With his hands on his hips, he had another quick walk around Ed’s bungalow while Ed leant against the hall wall, watching him. When they returned to the hallway, Oliver stopped and ran a hand over the wallpaper, nodding to himself. “Why don’t we get the stuff out of the garage,” he said, coming to stand alongside Ed. “Then you nip to B&Q to get paint and anything else we need while I start stripping this.” He faced Ed. “How does that sound?”
Perfect.
Ed hated stripping wallpaper. Hated it. “You sure you don’t mind?”
“Positive.” He reached out and picked at the edge where some of the paper had started to curl up. “You’re lucky it’s not painted woodchip like ours next door. Rob’s got a steamer that’ll work a treat on this; I’ll get him to drop it off when he comes to see Betty this morning.” Pulling out his phone, he smiled as he scrolled and then started to type. The reply came back almost straight away. “Just caught him.” He smiled again, and Ed was struck by how permanently happy Oliver seemed, practically all the time. Even now when faced with a day of helping someone decorate. Hand landing on Ed’s shoulder, he said, “Let’s get cracking, shall we?”
CHAPTER SIX
Ed had only been gone about ten minutes when Rob knocked on the door.
Oliver positioned the last of the dust sheets in the hall and then hurried to let him in. “Hey.” He greeted his brother with a grin and reached to take the steamer from him. “Thanks for this.”
Rob glanced over Oliver’s shoulder, eyes narrowing as he looked from the dust sheets to Oliver and what he was wearing. When Oliver turned round and bent to set the steamer in the hall behind him, Rob let out a low whistle. “Nice jeans.”
Oliver tried and failed to stop himself from grinning. “They’re the only old ones I’ve got.”
“Of course they are.”
“That’s why they’ve got rips in them.”
Rob raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Strategically placed to show off your arse.”
“Coincidence.”
“Mhmm.” Rob crossed his arms. “Betty’s already told me about how Ed must have broken up with his boyfriend, that’s why he—”
“Stop.” Oliver held up his hand. “I know Elise talked about him with Betty a lot, but now we know him too, I don’t want to find anything out about him unless he tells me himself. It feels...” He shrugged. “Wrong.”
Rob gave Oliver a pointed look.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Rob grinned when Oliver huffed. “I’m sure you’re helping out in your arse-revealing jeans just to be neighbourly.”
“Oh, fuck off.” Oliver shooed him out of the doorway. “If you must know, he’s fixing my laptop and wouldn’t take any money for it, so I offered to help him decorate. Better?”
“Much. I didn’t realise you were already at the swapping-favours stage.”
