Oliver sighed but couldn’t suppress laughter when his brother waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve got things to do. Go gossip with Betty.”
“Oh, I fully intend to. Prepare to feel your ears burn.”
After shutting the door on his still-grinning brother, Oliver caught sight of himself in the hall mirror. And okay, fine, his jeans did show a little bit of arse, and his T-shirt might be on the snug side. That’s why they were his work clothes. Normally it was just Betty who saw him like this, though. Ed’s reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Oliver would be lying if he said it hadn’t given him a little thrill. Who didn’t like a bit of harmless flirting?
With that thought buoying him up, Oliver set about stripping paper.
“WOW.” ED stopped in the open doorway, gaze flitting over the almost-bare walls to land on Oliver. “Sorry I took so long. There was... um...” His voice faltered as his eyes dipped to Oliver’s arse where he was bent over. “There was an accident, and B&Q was surprisingly busy.”
Oliver took his time straightening, smugly enjoying the attention. It’d been a while since he’d rendered someone speechless, even if it was for just a few seconds. “You weren’tthatlong,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“You’ve almost finished, though.” He walked in, tins of paint in hand.
“Came off easier than I was expecting. And it’s only the hallway, not exactly a large room.” He stretched, arms above his head, wincing at the loud crack his back gave. That was going to ache later. “You could start in one of the other rooms while I finish this off.”
Ed’s head snapped up, gaze moving from Oliver’s stomach to his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
“I put the rest of the dust sheets in the living room.”
“Right.” Ed started forward, his arm brushing against Oliver’s chest as he squeezed past. “I’ll go get sorted.”
They worked for another couple of hours, Oliver joining Ed in the living room after he finished stripping the wallpaper in the hall. At around one o’clock, they stopped for lunch.
Ed produced sandwiches he’d bought that morning, and they sat outside to escape the fresh paint smell.
“How come you offered to decorate if you hate DIY?” Oliver asked between bites. He’d been thinking about it on and off all morning. “Why not get someone in to do it all and get it out of the way?”
Swallowing his mouthful of food, Ed set his plate on the patio table. “Elise left the bungalow to me, Ruth, and Sarah. I’m trying to save all my money for the move. I’m living here rent free, so it seemed like the least I could do.”
“Fair enough.” Oliver knew all about saving money. The deposit for a mortgage was ridiculously high these days. Staying with Betty was the only way he had a chance of saving enough without it taking ages. “Have you had it valued yet? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Ed set his empty plate down on the table next to Oliver’s. “We had a couple of people come out after we’d cleared out Elise’s stuff. Told us it’d probably sell as it was but not at a price we should be looking for.” He took a sip of his water, then sighed, sadness colouring his expression. “With all of Elise’s stuff gone, the house was nothing like the warm home it was before. You could see all its faults, how dated and tired it was underneath everything. We thought it felt kind of wrong to let people see her home like that, to sell it for less than it was worth.” He shrugged a shoulder as though unsure Oliver would understand.
“Hey,” he said quietly, ignoring the urge to reach for Ed’s hand. “I get it.” Ed’s smile, small and sincere, sparked a little flutter in his belly. Oliver ignored that too.
Sitting up straighter, Ed ran a hand through his hair. “It might take a little longer to get it on the market, but I think it’ll make someone a lovely home when it’s finished.”
“It will,” Oliver agreed. “And with your furniture in it, it’s already looking good.”
“I guess.”
They lapsed into comfortable silence while Oliver finished off his sandwich, and Ed relaxed in his seat, face tilted up to catch the warm winter sun, eyes closed.
Swallowing the last crust, Oliver glanced over, unable to pass up the chance of watching Ed like this. He looked relaxed, not a care in the world, when Oliver knew—from their last conversation alone—that wasn’t entirely true. Paint flecked his hair, stark against the dark strands, and Oliver grinned as he spotted a stripe of it across his forehead. Thick stubble covered his jaw and Oliver traced its path down the column of his throat, breath hitching a little when Ed swallowed. The bob of his Adam’s apple caught and held Oliver’s attention, mind swirling with all sorts of images he shouldn’t really be having, and he missed the moment Ed opened his eyes again. When Oliver looked up, he found Ed watching him, eyes full of curiosity and questions.
Neither of them spoke for a few long seconds.
Oliver licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, and Ed quickly looked away, breaking whatever spell had held them captive.
“Right,” Ed said, standing and collecting their dishes. “I’m going to get a bit more done before I leave for Mum and Jack’s. But you’ve helped me loads already, don’t feel like you have to stay.”
The time on Ed’s phone caught Oliver’s eye, and his stomach sank. “I would, but I’m going to Rob’s.”
“I thought he was round at Betty’s?” Ed asked, looking confused.
“Only this morning. We go to his once a month for Sunday dinner. Told Betty we’d leave about two.”
“Ahh.” Ed nodded, and Oliver thought he caught a flash of disappointment before he smiled. “Thank him for bringing that steamer round. And thank you for helping me. I’ll get working on your laptop this week.”
