“Shit, Trevon. That’s fucking rough.” Quinn looked as if he might reach out. Instead, he cleared his throat then said, “I’m glad Hot Rides is able to be a place for you like Hot Rods was for me. A safe haven and an answer to a lot of prayers I didn’t think anyone was listening to.”
What could Quinn have needed saving from? He was an absolute badass who lived a privileged life with a support network that made Trevon and Devra seem like they were stranded on a desert island surrounded by a sea of despair in comparison.
“So what do you think?” Quinn steered them away from dangerous, emotional territory. “Should we work on your bike?”
“Are you asking because it would be entertaining for you to have a side project or because you think I need another helping hand?” Okay, both were probably true. Still, there was only so much pity Trevon could stand before his pride rebelled.
“I don’t have much of a social life. Humor me. Let’s do something fun. Put our skills to good use and fix up your motorcycle.” Quinn paused. “If it was fully restored, it would be worth a crap load of money. Between that and your job here, you’d be good.”
Trevon froze at that. “I’m not sure it would ever be worth more to someone else than me. It’s the last piece of my family and my legacy I have left. I’ve lost…everything else.”
“So is that where you got it? You inherited it? I’ve been wondering.” Quinn leaned forward, eager to hear more.
“Yeah. Pop—that’s my grandfather—brought it back with him after the war. No idea how he managed that. It sat in his barn for decades after he got too unsteady to ride it. Over time, he couldn’t keep up with the maintenance. Not that it was in pristine condition even then. He never saw it as a showpiece, but as a practical vehicle. Later in life, I think it was a reminder of his younger days. I took care of him the past few years. Tried to keep up with his farm, his health, and a million other things, including the bike. It got to be too much. He had a series of small strokes. Then dementia set in. After that, he got prostate cancer. He needed full-time care from actual nurses who knew what they were doing. It cost a fortune. But even when he didn’t know who I was anymore, he would still tell me stories about that motorcycle and the places it had taken him.”
Quinn got up and wandered closer as Trevon was talking. He thought for one crazy moment that Quinn might open his strong arms and hold him until the terrible dread eased out of his gut. But Trevon couldn’t let that happen. Because it wouldn’t stop there.
The spark of attraction that had flared between them from the first moment hadn’t been snuffed out over time. Instead, it had built into an inferno. One he couldn’t run away from or put out. It was too mesmerizing and warmed him simply from being near it.
So he closed his eyes and turned away.
“It sounds like you did everything you could for him.” Quinn put his hand on Trevon’s shoulder instead. Even that was enough to send a jolt of awareness straight down his spine to his cock.
It had been so fucking long…
“I tried my best.” Trevon shrugged, dislodging Quinn’s fingers.
“You’re a good person,” Quinn said softly. “I may not have known you for long, but I see how you look out for Devra. You always put her first. Even when she told you to test the hammock after your shift the other day, you were out there mowing your damn lawn and mine, too. I saw those flowers you dug up out of the woods and planted along the walkway for her yesterday.”
They were caring and respectful to each other. That wasn’t a problem.
Trevon wondered if Quinn had noticed yet that they never went beyond politeness to true intimacy. Maybe he assumed Devra was shy or that her upbringing made public displays of affection uncomfortable for her.
It might have been Trevon’s imagination, but he thought he saw Quinn eyeing Devra as often as he was leveling those smoldering gazes in Trevon’s direction.
He didn’t blame the guy. Devra was gorgeous. Any man would want her. He sure as shit did. Trevon was married to her and yet he could never truly have her. “Those little things don’t make up for…everything else.”
“The stuff she talked about yesterday didn’t sound so inconsequential to me.” Quinn’s voice was sterner. “You heard what she said. You saved her life.”
“Just because she’s alive doesn’t mean she’s living well.” Trevon rubbed his gut and the familiar ache there. “She didn’t tell you the whole story. In fact, she left out some pretty important and damning shit. To make me look better.”
Quinn tried again. “Or maybe she doesn’t see things the same way you do.”
He was relentless. Unfortunately, he was also wrong.
So Trevon laid it out. He disclosed the cold, hard facts that made him look like the leech he was. “Her father sent her here for an education. For a better life. My grandfather had some distant connection to her dad through a friend of a military friend. They’d never even met or spoken before he reached out. My grandfather was already ill. Racking up tons of medical bills. Her dad was loaded. A successful businessman in their country. He agreed to pay off our debt if we’d watch over Devra. She’d been sheltered and now she was here, in a land full of temptations and pitfalls, on her own. He essentially bought us to protect her.”
“I’d say he chose well since you two fell in love, got married, and have been battling life’s bullshit side-by-side,” Quinn said, proving he still didn’t get it.
Not at all.
Devra hadn’t picked Trevon. She’d been stuck with him. He was a necessary evil, not a man she considered her soul mate. And that’s why he’d never make an advance on her. Not a single kiss, and certainly not anything more.
Because Devra didn’t have a choice.
What would it make him if he took her up on the coy glances she sometimes gave him or the time she’d offered, on their wedding night, to lie down for him?
The thought made him sick.
“Yeah, well…” He’d try one more time to explain. “Of course, we’d have looked after Devra anyway, for free, but my grandfather was worried about me. We’d already sold everything except a small guesthouse on his farm and…”
“His motorcycle.” Quinn winced.
“That bike is all I have left of him and the rest of my family.” Trevon’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not sure I can give it up for any amount of money.”
Could he be more selfish and weak?
In that moment, Trevon loathed himself even more than usual.
10
“Hey, Devra is your family now. So am I. Hot Rides, and Hot Rods, are your place, too. If that’s what you want. We’re a collection of misfits and vagabonds, really. You’ll fit right in.” Quinn had already thought Trevon was perfect for the shop. Now he knew it to his core. The guy was one of them whether he realized it yet or not.
“Thanks, but I’m not sure I belong.” Trevon backed up a step and then another. “See, my grandfather took that money from Devra’s dad. He paid off our debts and put the rest in a trust for his care so we’d never have to worry about it again. What he didn’t know was that Devra’s father would be killed. That their family’s wealth would disappear overnight along with her dad’s body. And that Devra wouldn’t have enough money to finish her schooling so she could land a job that came with a legit visa.”
Quinn was really hoping this wasn’t going where he thought it might be headed.
“For that matter, we haven’t even had enough cash to pay for a green card for her. Well, technically we had about a thousand bucks reserved for it, but I fucked up the paperwork. There are a ton of rules and it’s confusing as hell. I did something wrong. So we have to fix it and reapply. Now we need at least twice or maybe three times as much money so we can hire an immigration lawyer to sort the stuff I jacked up and then restart the process, which could take pretty much forever anyway. Devra has very little freedom. We’ve struggled. She hasn’t been much better off here than she would have been back home.”
“That
’s absurd, Trevon. Her father is dead. Anything’s better than that. Plus, she has you. A partner, a confidant, a lover, and a soul mate. To me, those are the most valuable things in life.” Quinn would give anything to have those. If he were matched up, like all his other friends and relatives, he could power through anything else. Why didn’t Trevon see that?
The guy opened his mouth, then shut it. He opened it again with a growl of frustration, then barked, “It’s not like that, okay?”
“What? What do you mean?” Quinn grew still and quiet. He waited for Trevon to get a grip on the despair wrinkling his usually smooth features.
“Here’s the truth.” Trevon smacked his palm on the scuffed bench top, making Quinn wince. “We’re essentially roommates. She agreed to marry me so that I could live up to my promise to protect her. Keep her here. I’ve never made love to Devra. In fact, I’ve never even kissed her. You know, like an on-the-mouth, kiss-me-until-we’re-naked kiss. In fact, I’m pretty sure my wife is a virgin.”
Quinn’s jaw dropped. He sputtered for a few moments until he could say, “You’re a motherfucking saint, you know that? How can you possibly resist that much temptation? Forget Gavyn and that beer you offered him. Devra is…”
“Gorgeous, sweet, resilient, funny, kind, a great cook…” Trevon groaned. “Yeah, I know.”
“What the hell are you waiting for? Go pick some of those flowers, light a couple friggin’ candles, and seduce the hell out of her when she comes home!” Quinn was gesturing like an old lady who’d gotten riled up by neighborhood hooligans toilet-papering her house. His hands flailed as his eyes bugged out.
It might have been funny if they weren’t discussing something so painful to Trevon, who seemed to deflate in front of his eyes. “Stop, Quinn. I can’t.”
“Why not?” Quinn nearly shouted. “Because if I was you, I’d be all over that.”
“I want her.” Trevon frowned. “Desperately. I can’t have her. It’s not right.”
“You’re married. By just about any standards in the world, including the ones in Devra’s country, I’m pretty sure, you are good to go.” Quinn leaned in. “What’s the problem?”
He could think of one major possibility that had to do with the way Trevon was staring at his mouth, even now.
“It has to be her choice. I mean, a real decision.” Trevon shrugged. “And I can never guarantee that’s the case. We’re married. She’ll feel obligated. In fact, she offered once on our wedding night. I turned her away. You’re right. That’s how she was raised, to obey her husband. And I don’t want sex with me to be another duty for her. The cost of her freedom.”
Quinn was speechless. “A duty? I’d gladly fuck you any day of the week.”
Trevon didn’t say a word. He didn’t even blink. Quinn thought he might not even be breathing anymore.
“Oh shit. I shouldn’t have said that.” Quinn tugged on his hair and started to ramble in the hopes that something he said would keep Trevon from running away. Or worse, from grabbing Devra and driving both of them out of his life for good. He’d only just found them. The thought of them going was…frightening and he couldn’t quite say why. “Sorry. Ignore me. And…maybe you’re right. It was easy to say that because I don’t have to fuck you. I mean, not that anyone’s fucking anyone but in theory, I get your point.”
Trevon was still staring. Not blinking. Totally in shock.
For endless moments, they stood there looking at each other. Thinking. Processing. Not speaking. Not moving. And definitely not touching. Trying to figure a way out of the mess he’d put them in.
Eventually Quinn cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. Here’s what I should have said: Devra’s here. She’s alive. And as long as you two keep fighting for a better future, you can untangle the rest as you go.”
Both of them pretended like all the rest—especially the part about fucking—had never come out of his mouth. Quinn wished he had never dropped those bombs. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to drop a few more.
“I would argue with you, but this week has been a massive turnaround.” Trevon did crack a smile then. “I keep thinking I’m dreaming, to be honest. You have no idea how much you’ve done for us.”
The two men looked at each other, weighing the person in front of them.
“I think I’m starting to understand.” Quinn scrunched his eyes closed. “Can I ask one more stupid question before we act like this conversation never happened?”
“Just one. I think that’s all I can take.” Trevon clutched his chest though the corner of his mouth quirked up in a self-deprecating smile.
Quinn blurted his query before he could tell himself it was a dumb idea to ask. “Does Devra know you’re into men?”
Was that part of the reason Trevon was holding back? Maybe he wasn’t bi, but gay. Maybe no matter the circumstances, he’d never be intimate with Devra because physical intimacy with a woman simply wasn’t his thing.
If that was the case, Quinn got it. He just thought it would be kinder for Trevon to be honest, with himself and his wife, so that they didn’t have to abstain from one of life’s greatest pleasures. They could have a nontraditional arrangement. Maybe one where they were life partners who slept with other people. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing Quinn had ever heard of. Look at the Powertools crew and the Hot Rods. They’d created their own idyllic situations, even if it broke a lot of the rules most of society upheld in relationships.
In Quinn’s world, anything was okay so long as everyone involved was honest, up front, and in agreement. Maybe selfishly he was trying to figure out a way, even now, that he could have one half—or both halves—of his new favorite couple for himself.
Clearly he wasn’t nearly as good a man as Trevon was when it came to integrity.
“No. She doesn’t.” Trevon pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid to tell her. I don’t know what her beliefs about it are given her culture.”
“It’s never come up?” Quinn called bullshit. “Come on.”
“I guess I’ve avoided the topic as best I can.” Trevon shrugged. “It’s bad enough to know that she’s not in love with me. It would kill me if she looked at me with disgust.”
“So you haven’t slept with anyone in how long?” Quinn should really shut up now.
“Two years or so.” Trevon groaned. “I would never cheat on her.”
That word, cheat, hit Quinn hard. That was a line he swore he’d never cross. Too bad he hadn’t considered all the possible circumstances that might lead him to sleeping with a married person. He wasn’t sure what the right answer was in a situation this…gray.
He knew what his dick thought about it, though. It wanted to end Trevon’s dry spell, and Devra’s, too. That didn’t mean he’d give in to his wicked fantasies.
Then Trevon continued, “And even then…I never…with a guy, I mean. I wanted to, but it just never happened. Never found the right person. We lived in the middle of nowhere and I was taking care of Pop by the time I was seventeen.”
Attempting to be a better person than he felt like at the moment, Quinn swore to himself that he’d be there for his new friend as the guy warred with himself over the best way to honor the vows he’d taken, and obviously had meant. No matter how desperately he wanted to be the right person Trevon had been looking for. “You haven’t had much freedom either, Trevon. Maybe you need to talk to Devra about that, for both your sakes. You might be surprised by her reaction.”
“You know what? I think you’re right.” Trevon shocked Quinn.
Was he reconsidering a physical relationship, either with his wife or with Quinn? Would Quinn have the willpower to do what was right if Trevon reached for him right then?
“About Devra?” he asked.
“No.” Trevon huffed. “About the bike. We should fix it up and see if anyone wants her. If that’s what it takes to hire a lawyer to figure out all those fucking rules, pay for Devra’s green card application, and get her ba
ck on track with school, we should do it. If we get lucky and there’s even some left to put a down payment on a building for the restaurant she’s dreaming about, there’s no question in my mind. Because only then, when she’s able to stand on her own, will I know for sure if she’s choosing to stay with me or if she would rather be free if she could be.”
Quinn hesitated now that he knew what the motorcycle meant to Trevon. He didn’t want the guy to lose the last tie he had to his heritage and memories of better days. “Maybe you were right. To you, it’s priceless…”
“Devra’s worth it. Every bit of elbow grease and every penny we might raise. Let’s do this. Let’s bring the bike back to life. If nothing else, my pop would have approved of that. It’s going to take a while, so we might as well do what we can as we can. What happens after that remains to be seen, but at least I’ll have options. Devra will have options.” Trevon nodded to himself as if reconfirming his line of thinking.
Then he stepped closer, surprising Quinn when he flung a single arm around his shoulder and smacked it twice in a quick bro-hug. Even that was enough to spread flames of desire to every cell of Quinn’s body.
He leaned in to Trevon’s embrace. And when he looked up at the other guy, whose eyes were glassy and wide, Quinn thought about how easy it would be to tip his face a fraction of an inch and seal their lips together.
For a moment, they hung there on the precipice of something thrilling and dangerous. Then Trevon stumbled backward, wiping his hands on his jeans. Were they as sweaty as Quinn’s? “Give me a couple minutes.”
“Yeah. I could use them, too.” Quinn was breathing hard.
“When I come back, can we forget we had this discussion?” Trevon wondered.
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