As he lay in bed in the dark, he thought about Spencer Morgan. The guy seemed determined to kill him with kindness. All he'd wanted was to be left alone to recover, but after spending the evening with Spencer--eating, watching TV, and just hanging out--being alone didn't sound very appealing. He could invite Manny over, but Manny had a girlfriend he was crazy about, and he watched a lot of reality TV, which Quinn despised. There was no way he'd hang out with Javier. They might be friends, but the guy exhausted him. He was all about status, driving the most expensive cars, dating the hottest women with the biggest boobs. Spencer was like a breath of fresh air, so different from everything else in his world. His phone buzzed, and he carefully reached over to grab it from his nightstand, smiling when he saw a text from Spencer.
Found a new apron the other day. What do you think?
Quinn tapped the picture, and it expanded. He chuckled at the cooking apron made to look like a tactical vest. The word "chef" was embroidered across the front where the word "SWAT" would be. It had numerous pouches, clips, and loops for cooking utensils, condiments, and spices.
Quinn texted back. I approve.
A little happy face popped up on Quinn's phone along with Spencer's text. I'll make sure to wear it with more than just my underwear.
Quinn bit his bottom lip. He texted before he could think any more about it. Your kitchen. You wear what you want. A couple of heartbeats went by before Spencer replied.
Careful, or I might get the impression you approve of my Roy Rogers underwear.
Funny. Quinn typed. And I never said I disapproved. He sent the text off, wondering what the hell he was doing. Texting Spencer in the dark, in the middle of the night while he was alone, injured, and on meds was not a good idea. He should know better. The last thing he wanted was to lead Spencer on and hurt him. But was he leading him on, or was it something else?
You're just after my brownies again.
Quinn thought about how he felt around Spencer. It scared him how much his job had occupied his life. How quick he'd been to push everything else aside. Having a large family hadn't stopped him from feeling alone. There was a huge part of him they would never understand. They loved him, and he was aware how lucky he was, but he'd always stood apart. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. Maybe he needed to sleep on it. Think about this when he had a clearer head.
They are pretty amazing brownies, he typed. Good night, Spencer. See you tomorrow. He ended his text with a smiley face and sent it off. Spencer texted him back, wishing him a good night and sweet dreams. Quinn couldn't remember the last time he had sweet dreams. As he placed his phone on his nightstand, he also couldn't remember the last time he'd gone to bed smiling.
Chapter Six
SPENCER LET out a yawn and stretched. A stupid smile crept onto his face. Next to him on the couch, Quinn was fast asleep. He'd taken his meds a few hours ago and fallen asleep during their Lord of the Rings marathon. Spencer had held his hand out to Quinn and demanded his handcuffs, telling him he should be arrested for the crime of never having seen any of the movies. And then Quinn informed him they mainly used zip ties to apprehend subjects. Spencer discovered there were a lot of great movies Quinn hadn't seen because his schedule hadn't left much room for them. It became Spencer's mission to rectify that, starting with Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.
For days now they'd fallen into a pleasant routine. They'd have breakfast in their own apartments and go about their days. Spencer would work until lunch. Then he'd make something for the both of them and pop over to Quinn's. They'd eat together and talk. Spencer would help Quinn around the apartment with cleaning and laundry, insisting several times that he didn't mind, that he had to take his own laundry downstairs, so he could easily take Quinn's. After lunch, Spencer would go back to his own apartment to get some more work done while Quinn rested. Then he'd be back with dinner, and they'd stay up together talking and watching TV until Quinn couldn't stay awake anymore. A couple of days a week, Spencer would take the afternoon off and have lunch with Quinn, especially if Spencer planned on having one of his movie marathons, like today. It was almost time for dinner.
The credits to Return of the King were scrolling up the TV screen when there was a light knock on the door and a woman's voice calling Quinn's name. Quinn bolted upright so quick, he scared the hell out of Spencer.
Spencer put a hand to his chest, his heart pounding furiously. "Jesus, Quinn. You scared the shit out of me."
"Oh no." Quinn stared at the door.
"What is it?"
"Oh God."
"What?"
Quinn let his head fall back with a groan. "It's my parents."
He took hold of his crutch and pushed himself to his feet, mumbling something in Spanish. With a chuckle Spencer stood up and smoothed down his shirt as Quinn answered the door. He stepped to one side as a tiny woman in full makeup with a short gray bob, flowered blouse, white jeans, and heeled sandals swept into the room like a queen making a grand entrance. Behind her, a silver-haired man entered with far less pageantry. He was dressed casually in cargo pants and a gray polo shirt. In his hands were several large aluminum food trays with smaller trays stacked on top. Spencer held back a laugh at the way Quinn had to bend over so his mother could kiss his cheek.
"Mijito, I made you dinner because I know if not, you don't eat."
Spencer stared at the numerous trays. That was dinner? Damn, there had to be at least a week's worth of food there.
"Ma, I told you, you don't have to. I'm fine."
She shook her head at him, a pink nail poking him gently in the chest. "Pan tostado is not dinner, mi cielo."
"I haven't been having toast," Quinn grumbled before offering his dad a hug and kiss on the cheek in greeting.
"Well, then someone has been cooking for you, because we both know toast is the only thing you can make."
"Thanks."
"Es la verdad."
Quinn smiled sweetly. "Just 'cause it's true don't mean you gotta say it."
"Si, so you have been telling me since you were little."
"And yet...."
Seeming to realize there was someone else in the room, Quinn's mother turned her big brown eyes on Spencer. "Ay, perdoname," she said with a smile. "Sorry. Who is this?"
"Ma, this is Spencer. He's a friend. He's the one who's been cooking, and helping me with everything. He also lives next door. Spencer, this is my mother, Milagro Quintero, and my father, Gabriel Quintero."
Spencer smiled widely, wondering if he should shake her hand or hug her. There seemed to always be a lot of kissing between Hispanics, which Spencer had yet to grow accustomed to. Some people kissed one cheek, some two. At times it was a pat on the back, sometimes a hug. It was all very confusing to someone as socially awkward as him. Thankfully Milagro decided for him, and she pulled him down to give his cheek a kiss. Spencer waved at Quinn's father since his hands were full. He turned to Quinn with a questioning look.
"Wait, your name's Quinn Quintero?"
"Oh no," Milagro waved a hand at him. "Quinn is a nickname."
"Ma, don't."
Quinn motioned to his dad, and Spencer quickly went over, offering to help carry the trays to the kitchen counter. Gabriel thanked him and followed along, shaking his head in amusement at his wife and son. Milagro soon joined them, explaining to Spencer.
"He goes by his nickname and such, to hide his heritage."
Quinn threw a hand up. "I'm not hiding my heritage. How many times do I have to explain it to you? There were three other kids in class with the same name as me, so they gave me a nickname and it stuck."
"Si, si, si. His name is Julian Alfonso Quintero."
"Julian." Spencer couldn't help his wicked grin. "How very fascinating. Anyway, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Quintero."
"Please, call me Mimi." She took hold of his face and smiled brightly. "Ay, pero que chulo!"
"Chulo? That means cute, right?"
Spencer beamed.
Quinn grunted.
"Si, very handsome, pretty."
"Why thank you." No one had ever called him handsome before.
"Pero, you're so very skinny. Come, have some dinner." She put her arm around him and led him over to the counter, where Quinn's father was removing the lids of the trays.
"Oh, no, please, I--"
"Don't bother," Quinn muttered as he hobbled over. "In her eyes, everyone's malnourished. She won't give up until you've eaten your weight in frijoles."
"Pay no attention to him. He is... what's the word? Malo sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Spencer teased.
Mimi threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, I like this one."
Quinn narrowed his eyes at Spencer, who pretended not to have noticed. He helped Mimi get plates and cutlery from the cupboards.
"Are there more people coming?"
Like the rest of Quinn's precinct? Because there was enough to feed several SWAT teams here. There was rice with beans, yucca, roast pork, Cuban bread with butter, salad, fried plantains, soft plantains, tamales, and two different desserts. He gasped and pointed to the sponge-cake thing with white cream frosting.
"Oh my God, I love that. What's it called? Something milk?"
"Tres leches," Mimi said proudly. "I made it."
"Wow. That's so good. Way more sugar than I should have, but it's so tasty."
Mimi ushered him to one of the chairs. "Come. Sit. Eat whatever you like."
Quinn leaned over him, talking quietly. "I'd grab a plate and serve yourself before she does it for you. You'll end up with more food than you could eat in a week."
"Right."
Spencer chuckled and took one of the dinner plates, making sure to serve himself a little bit of everything. Mimi tried to get him to add some more, but Quinn ran interference, promising Spencer would serve himself more if he were still hungry.
Quinn served himself his usual three-man meal, and they all sat around the kitchen island eating. Damn, this was good. Spencer let out a moan.
"Mimi, this is amazing."
He was crunching down on a fried plantain when Quinn's father spoke up.
"Are you and my son sleeping together?"
"Gabriel!" Mimi scolded.
Spencer almost choked on his plantain. He coughed and quickly sipped his soda while Quinn patted his back, a frown aimed at his father.
"Papi."
Gabriel looked confused. "Que?"
"Excuse my husband," Mimi said pleasantly. She patted Spencer's leg. "He is not the most, como se dice...."
"Tactful," Quinn offered.
"Si."
Spencer finished choking. When he could once again breathe, he shook his head. "No, sir. We're just, um...."
"Friends," Quinn said.
Spencer did his best to hold back his stupid smile. His heart was doing the cha-cha. That was twice now Quinn had told his parents they were friends, and although Spencer hoped they might become more, he couldn't deny how ridiculously happy it made him that Quinn considered him to be a friend.
The doorbell rang, and Quinn let out a deep groan. "What now."
"I'll get it."
Spencer jumped off his seat and headed for the door with Quinn deciding to follow anyway. Quinn looked through the peephole and cursed under his breath. Spencer stood to one side after opening the door. Half a dozen people flooded in--one of whom he recognized as Quinn's brother-in-law, Rick. Was Quinn throwing a party and had forgotten to mention it?
Quinn gaped. "Seriously? All of you?"
"Ma called. She says you have a new boyfriend, and we wanted to come see. Is this him?"
Six pairs of eyes landed on Spencer. Now he knew what a deer in headlights felt like. He was getting ready to hide behind Quinn when the man's face went up in flames. Quinn turned to his mother with wide eyes.
"Oh my God, Ma! You can't just go around saying shit like that!"
"Oye, watch your language." Mimi hopped down from her chair, her heels click-clacking on the tiled floor as she came over. She placed her hand on Spencer's arm and smiled proudly. "These are my children." She went one by one, pointing from left to right. "My youngest son, Robertico, and his novia, Marta; my oldest son, Alexi; my youngest daughter, Luz; and my oldest daughter, Beatriz. That is Rick, Beatriz's husband. They have three beautiful children." She turned back to Spencer. "You are homosexual, no?"
The sudden change in subject nearly gave him whiplash. "Um, si," Spencer replied.
"And you care about my son, no?"
Wow, how was he supposed to answer that? "Well, the thing is--"
"Si," Mimi said with a curt nod.
Spencer blinked. "What just happened?"
"Someone shoot me," Quinn groaned. He covered his face with his hands, his younger brother giving him a hearty pat on the back.
"That already happened, bro."
"Shut up," Quinn snapped, and his brother cackled in amusement. He was clearly enjoying watching Quinn suffer. Meanwhile Beatriz was telling him to leave Quinn alone, while the younger sister was pointing furniture out to her older brother, saying something about trying to sneak in some flowers or something to make it look less like Quinn was getting ready to move out. As Spencer had suspected, the rest of Quinn's family was as ridiculously good looking as Quinn. All the men were tall, tan, broad shouldered, and muscular, with chiseled jaws. The women were bronzed to perfection and curvy, with tiny waists and long legs. Spencer had never felt more out of place.
Quinn turned to his mother. "Look, Spencer and I are not involved. You can't assume every gay man standing within a ten mile radius of me is my boyfriend."
Mimi looked puzzled. "He takes care of you while you're sick, cooks for you, makes you smile. Quinn, if he's not your boyfriend, you tell me and I find him a good man who will appreciate him." She brightened and turned to Spencer. "Miguel. Chicha's boy."
What or who was a Chicha? "Um... I'm not, uh--"
"Don't even think about it," Quinn warned, surprising Spencer.
Mimi placed her hands on her hips. "Miguel is a good boy."
"Miguel is an arrogant, self-absorbed, overbearing prick."
Mimi didn't seem the least bit fazed by Quinn's growl. "He is your cousin."
"Exactly. I know him. Whenever he hooks up with someone, he uses them for their money, parades them around South Beach to his Ken doll friends, and then dumps them when he gets bored."
"Quinn's right," Robertico said as he went through Quinn's DVDs. "Miguel's a total slut."
Mimi gasped. "Robertico!"
"What? It's true." Abandoning the DVDs, he took hold of his girlfriend's hand and led her to the counter, where he hugged his dad and snapped up a toston to crunch on.
"No matchmaking," Quinn warned his mother.
She pouted her red lips. "Pero--"
"No, Ma."
"Esta bien," Mimi huffed, her arms folded over her chest.
Now Spencer knew where Quinn had gotten his pout.
"Have it your way. You're going to be single forever."
"Thanks," Quinn muttered. He looked like he wanted to crawl under the nearest rock.
"Carino, you're embarrassing him in front of his not-boyfriend," Gabriel pitched in.
Everyone laughed and swarmed around the counter, chatting and serving themselves food.
Spencer was about to join them when Quinn caught his arm. His cheeks were flushed, and he was having trouble meeting Spencer's gaze.
"I'm really sorry about that. She gets a little ahead of herself at times. I understand if you don't want to stick around."
"Being accused of sleeping with you is hardly going to send me running," Spencer replied.
Quinn looked down at him, relief etched on his handsome face.
"I've been accused of a lot worse."
He winked at Quinn, who laughed and gave him a playful shove. Spencer gasped.
"That's assault, Officer Julian."
"Oh, it's like that, is it?" Quinn
poked Spencer in the ribs, making him squirm.
"Stop. I'm ticklish." In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have given away his weakness.
"Come on."
Quinn headed back to the counter, and Spencer followed. He noticed Mimi pull Quinn in for a kiss on the cheek before whispering something in his ear. Quinn scratched his head, looking embarrassed before he nodded. He returned her kiss and whispered something back. Spencer didn't get a chance to wonder what they were talking about before he was pulled into a conversation about Quinn's apartment by Luz.
There were moments when Spencer thought they might be arguing. He couldn't really tell since it was usually in Spanish or a combination of English and Spanish--which Spencer understood was the norm in Miami--but he quickly discovered it was just how they talked. When they did argue, it was brief, and the next minute it was as if it hadn't happened.
It sounded like there were a lot more people in the room than there were, and Spencer noticed how they all tried to include him in their conversations. They pulled him over, laughed, and teased each other. They asked him lots of questions about himself and his life, but Spencer didn't mind. They were genuinely interested in finding out more about him and who he was. Spencer mentioned his design services, and Robertico excitedly rambled off ideas for a website he wanted to put together and how he wanted to see some of Spencer's work.
By dessert Spencer was winded. He tried keeping up with all the names of everyone mentioned--family members who lived in Jersey, family members in Cuba, and other family scattered across the globe. Mimi kept trying to get him to eat more food until Quinn stepped in and told her Spencer would have more later on. It seemed the only way she could be convinced Spencer wasn't still starving. His jeans were tight from how much he'd eaten.
Once they were done, everyone kissed and hugged. They all hugged Spencer and kissed his cheek, even the men. Spencer was amazed. He'd never seen anything like it. They were all so affectionate. Mimi was constantly fussing over everyone, even Spencer. They invited him to a cousin's daughter's birthday. Mimi made Quinn promise to bring him along, and both of them nervously agreed to go. Spencer had never been to a quinceanera party. Apparently they were a regular occurrence and about as big an event as a wedding. It took the Quintero family another hour to make it out the door, and by then Spencer had been unofficially adopted. The door closed, and he joined Quinn on the couch.
Beware of Geeks Bearing Gifts Page 5