David, Renewed
By Diana Copland
When interior designer David Snyder buys a beautiful century-old house in eastern Washington, he is reeling with heartbreak and looking for somewhere to put down roots. Unfortunately his new home comes with a laundry list of problems: electrical, plumbing, heating… things David knows nothing about. When his mother offers him the business card of a local handyman, David pictures an overweight, balding man in his fifties. But Jackson Henry couldn’t be further from that stereotype.
Dark-haired, muscular, and handsome, Jackson left a large construction firm in Seattle to take care of his sick mother. However, his hometown still has an active “good old boy” network, and finding employment in construction is almost impossible for an openly gay man. Determined to persevere, Jackson takes odd jobs as a handyman. He’s exactly what David needs—in more ways than one.
David isn’t ready for his attraction to Jackson, not considering the way his last relationship ended. But as the two men get to know each other, it becomes clear that the heart often knows best, and it rewards those willing to listen.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
About the Author
By Diana Copland
Visit Dreamspinner Press
Copyright Page
For Brandon, Dunkyn, and Dolan, because your boys are why Boots and Scooter exist.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
TO SARITZA Alicia Hernandez, who never gave up. To Elizabeth North, for giving these boys a home. To Betsy, who must be getting tired of saying “I told you so.” To Rick R. Reed, for your unwavering support and encouragement. And to Becky Condit, who loved them from the beginning.
To all of you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
CHAPTER ONE
DAVID SNYDER didn’t think he could take much more.
On a whim born of desperation, he’d purchased the cute, craftsman-style house on the street where he grew up, but if one more thing went wrong, he was ready to pour gasoline around the foundation and light a match.
The little old lady he bought the house from seemed so sincere. During his initial walk-through, David was charmed by the original hardwood floors and the built-in cabinets around the fireplace in the living room. He could imagine sitting near a roaring fire in a comfortable chair, reading a book, and sipping a cup of hot tea on a cold night. The homey image appealed to him, especially now, when everything had been ripped out from under him. He was lost and hurt and had no business buying a house.
He’d thought the worst he would have to contend with was some truly hideous floral wallpaper in one of the bedrooms and a blue tile floor in the bathroom. He’d even looked forward to tearing it all out, painting the walls, and refinishing the beautiful hardwood trim around the doors and windows. He would be a weekend contractor, he decided, as amusing as his friends would find that.
He agreed to a thirty-day escrow because he couldn’t stand living in a hotel even one more day. The condo he’d purchased with Trevor was certainly no longer an option. Every time David thought of the high-end condo on the river, he saw his partner of five years leaning back in their black leather sofa, a blissful expression on his face as he was being blown by a young guy with a mop of thick blond hair and broad shoulders like a swimmer. He’d never forget the sight of his lover’s cock in someone else’s mouth. When Trevor spotted him standing just inside their front door, the flush on his cheeks spread down his neck and he scrambled to push the blond’s head from his lap and to do up his fly.
“You’re supposed to be in Seattle.”
“It was canceled.”
“But—”
David walked away.
He’d come home to surprise Trevor; he was supposedly home with a cold, and David had planned to make him soup, fluff his pillows. The fluff Trevor was experiencing had nothing to do with pillows, and he was surprised all right.
David had been so glad the trip was canceled, feeling the need to be home with his lover anyway. David’s beloved dad had died the month before, and Trevor felt a bit neglected while David dealt with his family obligations. He’d wanted to try to make it up to him; the idea that Trevor would cheat on him then, when he was already so raw, made bile hit the back of David’s throat.
“What are you doing?” Trevor came to stand in the doorway, hands on his narrow hips. David didn’t answer. “David.” He took two steps into the room and reached for him, but the glare David sent his way stopped Trevor cold.
“Don’t touch me.” David’s voice was trembling, but his resolve was clear.
Trevor looked hurt. “You know I wouldn’t, not that way.”
But David didn’t know it. There had been bruises on his wrist once, the back of his neck another time. Hiding them with long sleeves and a turtleneck had felt like lying to his friends and family. And Trevor’s last boyfriend had cornered David in a men’s room not long after they got together, and told him Trevor had “a tendency to get physical” when things didn’t go his way. He’d never hit him, but even after five years, his anger scared David.
“Just… back away, Trevor. I mean it.”
Trevor reluctantly took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Jesus, David. It didn’t mean anything.”
“It didn’t mean anything?” His voice came low and raw. “It certainly looked like it meant something.”
“It was just a blow job. Christ, you always overreact.”
Swamped in hurt, David continued to cram his belongings into the bag. He’d always wondered what someone who looked like Trevor saw in him. He was an effeminate nerd with carefully combed blond hair and rectangular designer glasses that mostly hid his green eyes. His body was nothing to write home about either. He’d maintained his youthful thinness, but even a concentrated six-month stint at a gym had failed to add muscles, and so he gave up. When drop-dead gorgeous Trevor first hit on him in a bar, he thought it was a joke. The man was all black hair and large brown eyes, with broad shoulders and narrow hips, and David couldn’t imagine what he saw in him of all people. But Trevor was persistent, David was flattered and thrilled, and they’d been together for five years. He’d been willing to overlook the occasional rages because Trevor was always so apologetic afterward. He thought they were on the same page about fidelity after all that time too. He even planned to propose at Christmas, just three months away; the platinum band he knew would look elegant on Trevor’s long, slender finger was already on hold at the jeweler.
David turned away, took as deep a breath as the constriction around his chest would allow, and resumed his packing. He was no longer frantic but methodical, placing his clothes in his suitcase with care, afraid if he started to throw things again he might fly apart in a million pieces. Despite Trevor’s protests and halfhearted apologies, David moved out that afternoon and into an Embassy Suites near his downtown office. Two nights on the stiff sheets, listening to people wander up and down the halls at all hours, convinced him he had to do something else quickly.
David had been extremely careful with money during his seven years climbing the corporate ladder a
t A.F. Interiors. He advanced to an executive-level position, and his hard-earned savings were comfortably into five figures. Trevor even teased that he had the hardest time parting with a dollar of anyone he’d ever known. Then in one impulsive afternoon, David tossed his common sense in the garbage and completely ignored all the advice columns that cautioned not to make big decisions after a traumatic life event. He saw the charming house for sale just down the block and across the street from his mother’s, and something inside of him simply said, “Mine.”
Now it was his all right.
After a mere thirty days, he was in his new home. He didn’t have much; Trevor was determined to be as big an ass as possible and claimed the couch and chairs David purchased when they moved in to the condo. He even kept the bedroom set David’s parents bought when he graduated from college. Too hurt and humiliated to fight him, David had bought a queen-sized mattress and box springs and was using a cardboard box as a nightstand. His mom donated a truly ugly recliner for his living room, and he hauled in a cinder block from beside the garage for a side table. He bought a lamp at Target, and that was the extent of the furnishings in the two-thousand-square-foot house. He planned to shop for more the first Saturday after escrow closed. But then things began to go wrong.
First there was the shower he took the second morning after he moved in. It started off fine but turned very cold halfway through. He yelped like a little girl, then realized something must be wrong with the ancient water heater in the basement. It was annoying but not terribly surprising. He’d buy one from someplace that would install the new one and haul the old one away. David knew his strengths, and installing a water heater wasn’t one of them. After he managed some toaster waffles for breakfast while standing at his kitchen counter, he opened the dishwasher to put in his plate and the door fell off. He leaned it against the wall and realized he needed to start an actual list of things that were wrong. There were already several.
When he got home from work that evening, he noticed the garage door was hanging awkwardly. He’d been parking his new red Toyota Yaris in the driveway because the real estate agent told him the remote for the garage door was missing. He planned to have someone come out, bring him a new remote, and program in a new code. Then it dawned on him he’d never even bothered to look in the garage.
Charmed again by the beautiful flower beds and verdant green lawn, he walked around the side of the small structure. The spreading maple tree that kept the entire rear yard in shade most of the day had been a huge selling point, and he realized that once he’d seen it and been delighted by it, the real estate agent hadn’t needed much help in steering him away from the garage. He tried the doorknob for the garage’s access door, and the knob came off in his hand.
“Lovely,” he muttered. There was a filthy window in the door, and he tried to rub a place clean enough to peer through. Muted light filtered through the walls and ceiling, just enough to show him that the entire unit to open the garage door was gone. He gave the side of the garage one halfhearted, ineffectual punch and added it to his list of things to do.
Even as tired and irritated as he was, when he walked through the front door he still loved the room. Late afternoon light filtered in through the windows and shadows of wind-stirred leaves on the two large trees in his front yard fell across the hardwood floor, calming him. He changed out of his work clothes and into Levi’s and an old Dolly Parton hoodie. It was faded purple, and there was a rhinestone crown nestled in her huge blonde curls. His dad had bought it for him in a vintage store and the shirt made him smile. He used to wear it all the time, but Trevor hated it, so he stopped. He looked down, smile fading to a slight frown. That shit would never happen again.
His plan was to make himself a microwave dinner and drink a cold Diet Coke, but when he opened the refrigerator door, the light didn’t come on, and the contents were room temperature. He checked to make sure it was plugged in, but clearly no power was going to the appliance. His heart sinking, he got his tablet from his briefcase. It was time for that list. He made himself a sandwich with mayonnaise and turkey he was going to have to throw out, before popping open a room-temperature soft drink.
The hideous recliner was an eyesore, but it was soft. He gave himself a moment to enjoy its comforting give. Shadows played in the room now, and he turned on the lamp sitting on the cement block. It came on, but almost immediately it gave a loud pop, and the light went off again.
“That didn’t sound good.” He put his dinner on the floor and tried the lamp again with zero results. He got up with effort and tried the porch light, but it didn’t come on either. Moving through the rapidly darkening house, he found all the switches ineffectual until he arrived in the kitchen. Ironically the overhead light came on in there. The electrical panel hung on the service-porch wall, so he walked through to the small room and opened the metal door on the wall.
One whole side of the fuse box was blackened as if there’d been a fire. Even he knew that couldn’t be good. He’d known when he opted out of the inspection it was a mistake, but it was going to add two weeks to his escrow and he hadn’t wanted to wait. Now he was wondering what he should do when there was another loud pop right in front of him, accompanied by a shower of sparks. He squeaked, jumping back. His heart was pounding when the light in the kitchen went out.
“Oh, holy hell.”
He had no idea what to do, but he’d heard all the light switches should be in the off position. He was able to accomplish that at least.
Grumbling, he detoured back into the living room, grabbed up his pad, pencil, and food, then stalked out onto the front porch.
It was a mild evening. David sat on the top step, taking another swig of his room-temperature soda. It took a few minutes, but the gentle breeze and the neighborhood, with its abundant mature trees and beautiful green lawns, soothed him, reminding him why he’d bought the place. The flower beds bordering the steps and around the foundation were in riotous bloom, purple impatiens and pansies in every color of the rainbow. Heavy, round heads of a white hydrangea bobbed in the breeze, and dark pink clematis climbed a trellis by the steps. Late-blooming yellow lilies hugged the river-rock foundation, and their sweet scent drifted over to him. The house was a true craftsman home with the stark, elegant lines, offset by the dark angular rock that was indigenous to the area. David wasn’t crazy about the flat gray paint, but he liked the rich burgundy trim. The house had great bones. Much like his failed relationship, he thought with a grimace: it looked great from the outside, but the inside was a mess.
A young couple walked by on the sidewalk pushing a stroller and leading a happy, bright-eyed corgi on a leash. They waved, giving him a friendly smile. He hoped what he returned looked more enthusiastic than it felt. They paused.
“Did you buy the house from Mrs. Howser?” the young woman asked.
“I did.”
“We’re the Yosts. We live two doors down.”
“I’m David Snyder. I guess we’re neighbors.” David produced a smile for the little dog, who gave him a doggy grin and wagged his little butt where a tail would have been. He was cute as hell.
“Did she tell you about the sewer?” the young man asked.
“What about the sewer?” David frowned.
“Her main sewer line between the house and the street has a break in it. At least that’s what one of those Roto-Rooter guys told her. Sorry, man, but I think you should know. That real estate lady of Evelyn’s told her not to tell anyone, but that’s shady.”
David agreed, but what could he do now?
“According to the plumber, it’s gonna cost about six grand to fix it. That’s one of the reasons she sold the place.”
The news hit him like a truck. Clearly passing on the inspection was a dumbass maneuver and he was going to pay for it.
“But it’s a beautiful house,” the wife said quickly. “I love the floors and the built-ins in the dining room.”
“So do I,” David agreed weakly.
&
nbsp; “Well, nice to meet you.” She pulled on her husband’s sleeve. “We need to get home and get the baby to bed.”
“Yeah, nice to meet you too.” David waved, watching until they turned into the driveway two doors down.
“I see you’re making friends with the neighbors.”
David jerked his head around, startled. His sister, Beth, was walking across his lawn and he hadn’t even noticed her.
“Jesus.” He spread his hand on his chest, over his pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“You were too busy flirting with the neighbor’s dog to notice me.” She smiled.
“What are you doing here?”
“Dropped by to see Mom.” She came up the steps and sat next to him. Beth was six years older, but they’d always been close. “I drive over to bring her dinner a couple of times a week. If I don’t, she eats toast and that’s it. She’s lost twenty pounds since Daddy died.”
Beth lived clear across town and David felt a twinge of guilt. Even when he’d been in the condo, he’d lived closer to their mother than Beth did.
“I hadn’t noticed,” David murmured.
“She hides it pretty well.” She leaned against his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. You’ve had your own shit to deal with.”
“Not until this week.”
She gave him a pointed look. “I don’t mean the asshole Trevor. Although may he get hit by a bus.” A reluctant grin tugged at the corner of David’s lips. “It’s been tough on you,” she went on. “Losing Dad.”
David swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. There was no point in denying it; Beth always knew when he was lying anyway. He and his dad had been close. Their relationship hadn’t been damaged when he came out, which he’d lived in terror of from the moment he realized he was gay. When he told their dad, he just looked at him and said, “So, a son-in-law instead of a daughter-in-law. I can work with that.” David didn’t think he’d ever love anyone as much as he had his dad in that moment.
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