Chapter Fourteen
Jamie listened to Quinn give directions to the lost teacher with the weird name. “Then don’t get back on 83.” Quinn’s voice held an above-average amount of irritation. “Where is he?” Jamie asked.
Quinn moved the phone away from his mouth but didn’t cover it. “Towson. He got con-fused in the construction and ended up going the wrong way on the Beltway.”
“Put him on North Charles—” Jamie held out a hand. “Here, give me it.” “Be my control freak of a guest.” Quinn handed off the phone, ignoring Jamie flipping
him off.
Once Jamie figured out where the guy was, he got him onto 139, only one other turn to get him to Quinn’s. He handed back the phone. “It’ll take him longer, but at least he’ll get here. Hey, kid, we gonna eat or what?”
Eli pulled a sheet of toasted garlic bread from the oven, and Jamie’s mouth started water-ing.
“Why? Eager to get on to something else tonight?” Eli put the pan on top of the stove. Eli had already busted Jamie’s balls when he dragged him into the kitchen when they
got here. Jamie had responded that not everyone was lucky enough to nail somebody worth more than the collected value of the entire suburb.
“You got that right.” Jamie swiped a piece of garlic bread, ignoring the burn on his fingers. “Tell me, Eli, how sad is it that you have to sublimate all your youthful horniness by cooking and keeping house ’cause you live with old stick-in-the-mud? What are you guys down to, twice a week?”
“Not everyone’s got a hair-trigger, Quickdraw,” Quinn said. “My man can go all night,” Eli confirmed, shaking his ass as he bent to pull a huge tray
of lasagna out. As Quinn carried it into the dining room, Eli said, “I still can’t believe you held out on me. Do you know what kind of stakes I could have gone for betting Quinn that you’d walk in here with Gavin Fucking Montgomery? Not only that, but start cuddling him on the couch like lovers? That would have been good for a month of blowjobs.”
“What’s with everyone and the L word? I’ve known him maybe two months. I like him, like being with him, yeah, but—”
“Hey, Gavin,” Eli said with a big smile.
Jamie shut his eyes for a second before turning around. How much of that had Gavin heard? Not like Jamie would be likely to find out. People thought Jamie didn’t like talking about feelings.
“Can I borrow you for a minute, Jamie?” Gavin asked. “I promise not to upset the ground-work for any future wagers.”
“Wait, Gavin. Sorry. That was all me,” Eli said. “Jamie only did me a favor by keeping Quinn out of the loop. We like to play these games, see, and Quinn likes to think he’s the one in charge but—”
“Shut up, Eli.” Jamie would do damage control later. Though it wasn’t as if he’d said anything he hadn’t already told Gavin.
“What’s up?”
“Come outside with me.” Gavin spoke under his breath. Jamie shoved a hand in Gavin’s back pocket. “We’re waiting on that, remember?” Much
more ball-busting from his friends and Jamie would need a cup for protection. Gavin pulled Jamie’s hand away. “Not like that. The kids need some help.” “Kids?”
Gavin muttered a quick explanation as he led Jamie to the door. “Look, I don’t know why but Silver is…frantic, for want of a better word.”
“Probably some stupid ex-boyfriend drama. Even in a city this size, karma’ll get you.” Jamie followed him out.
“It strikes me as extreme for issues with a previous lover.” Jamie snorted and shook his head. “Try watching the news sometime. Half of what a
cop does is deal with extreme issues with a previous lover. ’Specially when you’re fishing people out of the Patapsco.”
Gavin directed his attention to the current drama rather than react to the comment about his own past errors.
“Can you fix it?” Silver asked as soon as Jamie got within whispering distance. “Don’t have X-ray eyes.” Jamie looked at the other one, Marco. “You, pop the hood.
When he tells you…” he jerked a thumb at Gavin, “…start it.” “It won’t start,” Marco whined.
“Yeah, well I can’t fix it if I don’t hear why it won’t start, so just shut up and do what I tell you.”
Marco slid into the driver’s seat and released the hood. “You…” Jamie pointed at Silver, “…Quinn’s garage, side door, never locked. I need a
wrench and a screwdriver, straight head.”
Silver hesitated a minute.
“You want to wait around a bit longer?” Jamie asked. Silver sprinted down the driveway.
With the hood propped open, Jamie stared at the remains of the ’87 Escort’s engine. The radiator hose was taped, rust and acid caked the battery and the plugs. Jamie glanced over at Gavin and nodded. The kid turned the key to a solid click.
“Well, that sucks,” Jamie said, checking the battery connections. “What do you think?” Gavin stood at his shoulder. “I think they’re fucked if it’s the starter.” Jamie lifted his head from the engine. “Why do
you care?”
Gavin shrugged. “Seemed like an interesting pre-dinner show.” But that wasn’t it. That intent look reminded Jamie of Gavin picking through the books
at the hospice, trying to find a short mystery he could share with Mrs. Constantine. “Yeah, right.” Jamie turned his attention back to the engine, poking at another piece of
rust.
“Why do you?”
In truth, Jamie didn’t. Silver and Marco were old enough to deal with whatever shit had been stirred up. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d helped a stranded motorist while he wasn’t officially on duty, but that wasn’t why he was hoping it wasn’t the starter but the solenoid so he could jump it. He wanted to be a hero in front of Gavin, and that hadn’t played a part in any decision Jamie had made since…Colton.
Silver was back with the wrench and three screwdrivers which he shoved into Jamie’s hands.
Jamie knocked off some of the corrosion on the battery terminals, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t it. He followed the battery cable down to the solenoid.
“Damn, should have asked for a—” A spotlight appeared on his hand, and he looked up to see Gavin holding his phone as a flashlight.
“Thanks.” Jamie glanced behind Gavin. “Silver, when I signal, have Marco start it, and pray to sweet baby Jesus it works, okay, because I’m only doing it once.”
“Sweet baby Jesus?” Gavin muttered.
“That’s about all the kid can do. Might as well keep him occupied.” “What are you going to do?”
“Jump the solenoid.”
“Sounds kinky.”
Jamie found himself laughing as he wiped his hands on the back of his shirt to cut down on conductivity from sweat and mist.
“Wait a minute,” Gavin said. “Is this dangerous?” Jamie touched the top metal part of the screwdriver to the positive prong on the solenoid
and lowered the tip toward the other terminal.
“Okay, Silver.”
Marco turned the key.
The shock hit his bones, buzzing his hands, feet, jaw before he saw the spark jump and heard the starter motor move. It was less than a second before the engine caught, but it felt like ten with the juice riding his system.
He jerked back and tossed the screwdriver away before slamming down the hood. He leaned in the driver’s window to tell Marco, “Whatever you do, don’t stall it. You need a new solenoid. The starter motor ’s fine.”
“Thanks. C’mon, Silver.”
Jamie looked up to see Silver laying a wet one on Gavin. “Thank you for everything. Silver ran to the passenger seat, and with one last wave they
were gone.
“I save their asses and you get kissed?”
“Got a number too.” Gavin reached into his pocket. “Lucky you.”
“Not really.” Gavin wiped his mouth. “I saw the spark.” He touched Jamie’s hair. “Are you okay?”
Jamie patted his head. It did feel a little like a bad case of hat head. “I’m fine. It’s only twelve volts. Had a worse burn from the garlic bread.” He shook out
his still-tingling hand.
“That definitely deserves a kiss.”
“I did eat the garlic bread,” Jamie said.
“I don’t really care.”
The first brush of lips reminded Jamie that he hadn’t been the last one to kiss Gavin. The foreign taste prompted a burning tension in Jamie’s spine that he didn’t have time to identify as jealousy before he grabbed Gavin’s neck and kissed the fuck out of him in front of Quinn’s little quiet piece of suburbia.
Remembering Gavin hadn’t shown any more interest in repeat attention from Silver than Jamie had, he let him go. “Are you sure me risking what I’ve got left in the way of brain cells isn’t worth a hero’s blowjob?”
“You’re the one who wanted to wait.” Gavin stuffed his hands in his front jean pockets. “Right.” Jamie picked up the screwdrivers and wrench. “Gavin, you know, Eli, about
that, all he asked was that I not tell Quinn I was seeing someone. I didn’t bet him I could—” “Fuck me?”
“I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t have done it from the beginning, and I definitely wouldn’t do it now that—”
“You know what a great lay I am?” Gavin suggested. “Christ, could you let me finish a sentence?”
Gavin jammed his hands deeper in his pockets.
“If you heard that, you heard what else I said too. I like being with you.” “But?”
“But what?” Jamie asked.
“You said to your friend ‘I like being with him, yeah, but—’” “But nothing.” Jamie spread his arms wide then realized he was still holding Quinn’s
tools. “I already told you that stuff. I know I’m obstinate as fuck, it’s been in more than one performance review. I wouldn’t be spending time with you if I didn’t want to be.” He took a deep breath. “I gotta go put these away.” Jamie started off down the driveway.
“My apologies. I suppose I’m unaccustomed to direct speech.” Gavin fell in step beside Jamie.
“What are you used to?”
“Uh.”
It was the first time Jamie could remember something so inelegant coming from Gavin. He stopped with his hand on the garage door and waited.
“I’m used to looking for a hidden agenda. How did you put it, the hook in your mouth?” Jamie shrugged. “Not my style.”
“I think I’m seeing that. In my experience, people use polite, seemingly meaningless speech to cut into each other.”
“Sounds bitchy.” Jamie opened the door and hung Quinn’s stuff back on the pegboard. “I’m still listening.”
“That’s all I had,” Gavin said, making it like another apology. “God, you guys did not have to do it in the garage. We have a spare bedroom,” Eli called
from the back door.
“Eli. Neighbors.” Quinn came to stand behind him. “They fucking get off on it. You guys seen Silver?” Gavin stepped forward with smooth apologies, something about Marco and someone
needing his help. Jamie followed.
Eli kept going as they came in through the back door. “Well, Silver didn’t have to leave. We would have brought him back down. Or he could have gotten a ride with Nate and Kel-lan. It’s his birthday.”
“Seriously, buddy,” Jamie said to Quinn in passing, “if you have to take your dick out of his mouth, there’s this thing called a ball gag. You’ll thank me.”
Quinn’s missing teacher friend was younger, a cleaned-up hippy look to him, wavy bronze hair pulled into a ponytail at his neck. It reminded Jamie of Quinn having gone to work at that summer camp for kids with cancer and, surprise, turned out that’s where he’d met the hippy. Evidently, Eli and Quinn were running their own Charity Home for Friend-less Queers because Zeb had moved back to the area recently, didn’t know anyone, and Quinn had befriended him out of pity.
Zeb didn’t talk enough to get on Jamie’s nerves, but from behind his bottle of Flying Dog beer, he watched Eli’s editor ex get his hackles up over something Zeb said. Gavin noticed it too, because he defused it with a comment about the pictures on the wall.
Jamie hadn’t paid them any attention, but he did now—black-and-white photos from around the Inner Harbor and downtown with only one bit in color.
“Your photography collection is beautiful.” Gavin gestured at the frames. “I love the single element—is it hand colored? I don’t recognize the artist. Someone local?”
“Really local,” Nate said.
“They’re Eli’s.” Quinn’s expression was as proud as if he’d held the camera for the kid and told him where to point it. Jamie smirked at him, but Quinn was busy looking at his boyfriend.
“That’s incredible. What gallery has your work?” Gavin said. Eli laughed. “Very exclusive. Limited to 957 Rockwood Avenue. Jamie, I like this guy.
Can we keep him?”
“He’s a free man, ask him yourself.” Jamie shoveled in more lasagna. Gavin peppered Eli with a bunch more questions about how he did that coloring and
what kind of diffusion or whatever he used. The two of them pushed back from the table and went over to one of the pictures.
Quinn picked up the salad and empty bread bowls. Tapping Jamie on the shoulder, Quinn asked, “Ready for another?”
“I got a pair of working legs.” Jamie picked up the empty plates and followed Quinn into the kitchen. As Quinn covered the salad to stuff it in the fridge, Jamie said, “I ever tell you how goofy you look when you moon over him because someone liked his pictures?”
“Nope.” The smug tone Quinn had should have warned Jamie. “Can see that in your face right now.”
“I’m not mooning.”
“That smile. It’s different on you.”
Jamie stopped himself in time to keep from feeling his lips. Quinn handed off another Flying Dog. “He seems like a nice guy. Why the hell does he
put up with you?”
“Fuck if I know.” Jamie popped off the top. “He’s…” He dug around for a way to say it that didn’t sound like some chick with man trouble. No matter what Jamie did or said, Gavin kept coming around, but that was all Jamie got out of him as far as interest in keep-ing things going. “…hard to read,” he finished.
“Even for you?” Quinn looked at Jamie sharply. “Careful, son. Somebody might take that as a compliment.” Quinn took out the last of the four-pack, popped the cap and tapped Jamie’s bottle with
a nod.
“You seem good though.” Not that Jamie was planning on using Quinn as a model, but having Eli around was a hell of a lot better on the guy than clinging to that dick Peter had been.
Quinn’s smile wasn’t smug this time. It went all the way up to his eyes. “I am.” “Oh my God.” Eli bounced into the kitchen and flung himself on Quinn. “Gavin says he
knows this gallery owner, and he’s going to call him and tell him about my work and then maybe I can get a chance to show something.”
Gavin had followed. Jamie caught his eyes, asking, and Gavin nodded in a way Jamie knew meant that the offer was serious. Jamie nodded back in surprise. Then Quinn cut between them to shake Gavin’s hand.
“Did you leave those guys alone?” Jamie asked. “I think one more muttered comment about imperialism and religious interference, and your new bud is going to deck Eli’s ex.”
“They’re all right.” Eli had gone back out for the smaller lasagna dish made with rabbit food. “Nate snorted his wine when Gavin said that about the gallery owner, so Kellan is pounding him on the back. Besides, Kellan is good for Nate that way. Keeps him from get-ting too high on his horse.”
Kellan was good for Nate, Eli was good for Quinn. Maybe Jamie could be good for Gav-in? Quinn and Eli moved around each other, putting stuff away in a kind of dance where they knew all the right moves, a touch and a stroke here and there. Comfortable.
Jamie realize
d that Gavin never seemed to be in Jamie’s way at his house. He hated if his mom or sisters came over, hated people in his space. Gavin felt right there. But maybe that was because Gavin was so good at trying to disappear when no one was looking at him.
“Seems weird having the cake and all when Silver took off.” Eli peeled the plastic wrap from the top of the pan.
“Better this way. No one needs to sing.” Jamie eyed the cake. The frosting was chocolate buttercream. Though his mouth watered, his gaze was fixed on Gavin, and Jamie was hungry for something else. “Let’s move this along.”
“Kellan brought his guitar, and Silver actually has a great voice,” Eli said. “He wouldn’t be singing happy birthday to himself, now would he? It would just be us
croaking along,” Jamie pointed out.
Because the birthday boy wasn’t there to cut the birthday cake, talk turned to Silver and Eli’s family having cut them off when they found out their sons were gay. Jamie figured it was Eli’s way of getting the attention back on himself, but it turned into a roundtable dis-cussion.
“Mine are evangelicals, so I waited until I was graduating from college to tell them.” Zeb had a habit of sounding like he thought he was really profound. No wonder he pissed off Eli’s know-it-all ex.
“How did they take it?” Kellan leaned forward.
“Badly, of course. It’s still rather frigid, but I’m their only child so there’s some civil contact. Usually in the form of urging me to get counseling to fix me.”
“Frosty I get.” Kellan nodded. “Man, do I get it.” Nate gave Kellan a look that almost made Jamie forgive them for having so much fun
playing fairy godmother when they’d dressed him for Gavin’s fancy party. “Well, it must be nice to have a dad who gave money for marriage equality even when
the archbishop came to talk to him.” Eli stared at Gavin. Gavin rested his fork on his dish. His face was blandly polite, but Jamie read the tension
in the rigid way he held his body. “My father’s support is gratif—” “Hey, just because his family makes the papers doesn’t mean you get to pry into his busi-
Mitchell, K.A. [Bad in Baltimore #3] Bad attitude Page 17