‘You’re the right kind of age to me.’
For me.
Gabriel being younger than Jason had made it harder for Bruce, he knew. At first he’d been so wary. Chaperone this, never left alone that. Bruce was always proper. Jason was old enough that while people had snickered, had tutted, they’d not cried foul. Only chicken. Plenty of people thought Bruce had made a bad choice but that was more because of Jason’s reputation than anything else. Gradually, Bruce had become more comfortable with Gabriel. He’d hugged him often. It became easy. He wanted that back.
‘I’m sorry.’ Bruce laughed. ‘Looks like we’re both saying that a lot these days.’
‘Let’s hope we won’t need to in the future. Can we … Can we try to be friends again? Please?’ Gabriel held out his hand. The cool breeze off the river blew into his palm. Bruce looked at it. What was there left for him to hesitate over now? If anyone should hesitate, it should be Gabriel.
The secrets were still locked inside—the stupid night he did end up in Jason’s bed, his mother’s designs, hell, even the fact he’d worked on the theatre redevelopment was classified. But he’d hold on to all those secrets and more if it meant Bruce was in his life. The last time he’d revealed secrets about himself he’d been beaten by his father, a person who he should have been able to trust and love without condition. The physical wound had healed but left a scar. The secret to keeping secrets was to keep them secret. It shouldn’t be that difficult.
Bruce’s big warm hand wrapped around his and they shook. ‘Friends.’
Gabriel would have preferred a hug, to be pressed against that chest and wrapped in all that man, but that was probably exceeding the level of friendship at this stage. He’d save that for his fantasies.
‘Same time tomorrow?’ he asked.
‘If you can make it. I’ll be here.’ Bruce opened the door to his car but stopped before he got in. ‘Gabe.’
He turned, a thrill rushing up his spine at hearing him so familiar.
‘I enjoyed spending time with you tonight, even if you can’t hammer a nail properly.’
The only reason he did such a crap job was because it meant he could feel Bruce’s guiding hands on him.
‘Hey, I got better, didn’t I?’
Bruce laughed and shook his head. A proper broad and unguarded smile. Finally. And Gabriel had been the one to draw it out of him.
Chapter Twelve
Bruce checked the calendar on his phone to see it wasn’t December twenty-fifth. Nope, still September. He went back to looking at the transactions in his bank account. Either way, a miracle had occurred. Three days since Gabe had blown up at Clarence and the full five thousand dollars had been deposited. Along with three thousand dollars from Gabriel Mora.
The transfer description read: Gazebo–Plz accept.
It was double the amount Bruce and Sofia had agreed but came nearer to what it was worth. He thought about returning it, and if Gabriel hadn’t written what he had, then he would have sent half back in case it was done in error. But this was no mistake. It was a gift, and Gabriel had no idea how much it meant. He had enough to cover a couple of repayments for his mortgage and surely that would be enough for the bank to extend the deadline.
He quickly transferred the money across to the mortgage and phoned Felicity at the bank to make sure she knew. She practically screamed in excitement and said they’d be able to give him an extension. He was going to keep his house! The reality of that tolled loud inside his head. It knocked the strength out of him, and he slumped in the front seat of his car. He’d been saved. He jolted out of his stupor long enough to thank her for doing all she could to let him keep the house while he found a way to sort out his financial problems.
When he got off the phone, it was like a wave broke. A force barrelled through his body, at times both terrible and invigorating, smashing through the tension locked in his chest these past few months and its wake smoothed out so he could float free on gentle tides. He still had some payments to go before he was back on track, and the rest of his debts needed to be tackled, but he’d got a reprieve. It was over. He’d come so close to losing it all. In less than a week he’d have been forced to leave. He had nowhere to go and would probably have had to load up his ute with as many of his possessions as he could and sleep in that until he found a place to bunk. There’d been no Plan B because he hadn’t wanted to entertain the possibility that he was going to be homeless. And because he’d kept his head down, he hadn’t seen how badly he was going to crash. If it hadn’t been for Gabe, he would have kept going until he ran into the FOR SALE sign on his own property.
Gabe had saved him. It was as if the conversation they’d had the other night had unblocked him. His anger had dissipated, the obstruction cleared away, and the universe had come flooding in with all the goodness. Or at least that’s what Niamh would have said. Not that he believed in her wacky ideas, not when there was a perfectly reasonable explanation, and that was Gabriel Mora. And he’d done it by confronting the problem head-on and not taking no for an answer. Much as he’d done when exposing the lies that Jason had told him. And, to his shame, that he’d believed without question.
He ran his hands through his hair and pulled, the buried ends singing in his scalp. He’d wasted years of energy thinking Gabriel had been the liar, the cheat, the bad friend. He’d been content
