—B
Jake didn’t crumple up the paper, but it was close. Damn that man. Damn the memories. Damn every fucking thing that kept throwing Jake for a loop. Border wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be on whatever path the man had taken all those years ago, leaving Jake and all they’d had behind.
Not that he and Border had truly had anything, of course. They’d only had the promise of what could be, rather than what either of them had needed. They’d fucked because the girls they were with had liked to watch. They’d gotten each other off with the premise that it was for someone else, not themselves. It was all a lie, of course. He’d known it from the start, as had Border. But they’d been too scared to figure out what they wanted, and by the time Jake had found the courage to do something for himself, Border had left.
He’d lost his best friend and the man he’d fallen for in one fell swoop.
The fact that it had happened again only a couple of years later with Maya, had only brought home the fact that Jake never truly knew what he was doing. He was always one moment behind, one step in the wrong direction.
And now he had Holly. He’d done right by her, and would continue to do so, because no matter what he might have once felt for Border and Maya, Holly was now, and the others were in the past.
Jake ran a hand over his face and did his best to push those kinds of thoughts out of his mind. He had work to do today, a few projects that were coming up on deadlines soon, and paperwork that wouldn’t do itself on his desk. He’d worry about what to do with Border after he cleared his head. Of course, as soon as he thought that, Maya popped into his brain and he cursed himself.
Of course, she would.
That damn woman always filled his mind when he didn’t need her to.
He let out a breath and poured himself a cup of coffee, grateful that Border had already made some. When he took a sip, he winced. Yeah, apparently, Border still liked the stuff damn strong. Jake would just have to keep drinking and get over it. It’s what he did for so many things now.
Instead of standing in his kitchen staring the coffee machine like an idiot, he made his way to the back of the house where he’d converted the second master into a workshop. For some reason, the people who had owned the place had made two masters. He figured maybe they’d had a parent or someone living there with them, but either way, he’d been able to use the room that got the best light and happened to have wide doors leading to a large deck as his workshop. While it would have been nice to have it as his own room, it worked better for all his clay.
While the rest of his brothers were in the restoration business and worked with their hands to rebuild homes and aging structures, Jake used his hands to sculpt artwork. He made the usual pots, plates, and vases, but also different pieces that were unique for each buyer. His main medium was clay, but he also used stone and other gemstones. It was really what worked for the project. He even had his own kiln out in the backyard in a specially designed structure he could walk right out to from the deck.
He also did some work with his brothers since sometimes they needed small details done that weren’t in Graham, Owen, or Murphy’s wheelhouse. Jake was a Gallagher brother, so even if he sometimes felt like he was on the outside looking in when it came to their business, he still helped out when he was needed. They were family.
He sat down on his stool and rolled his neck, knowing he needed to get to work and maybe even let his mind get lost in the project. If that worked, maybe he could think about what to do next. Because if he kept lying to himself, people were going to get hurt. And no matter what, Jake refused to hurt someone he cared about. He’d been kicked before, even if inadvertently, and he didn’t want that for Holly…or Border…or fuck, Maya.
Jake turned on his music and went to work. The soft, wet clay slid over his fingers, and he let out a breath. This would help. It had before. He let himself get lost in his work and the music and pushed all thoughts of what if out of his brain.
Much later, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he shut off the pottery wheel and radio before slowly turning around.