Doc Cedarwood

by Megan Slayer

  “Here. Fill this out.” Aaron offered over a clipboard. “Nothing exciting. I’ll be out helping Matt.”

  “Sure. Thanks.” He scrawled the information onto the form, then put the clipboard onto the counter. His phone buzzed in his hand. Not a text, but a call from Whit. He groaned, then answered. “Why aren’t you in the church?”

  “I ducked out,” Whit grumbled. “You’re late. Where are you?”

  “I had car trouble. Didn’t you look at the text?” He massaged his forehead. “It’s a long story.”

  “Seriously? You? Nothing is ever easy with you.”

  “It’s not by design.” He had to think fast. “If you’re not in the church, then the ceremony is running late? Or is it over?”

  “Farin’s a little behind. Do you need me to get you?” Whit asked. “I’m available.”

  He swallowed past the groan rising in his throat. “Are you able?”

  “Wait. You’re asking me to come and get you? Uh…yeah. I’ll be there in five minutes. Where are you?”

  “Um…” He turned the stack of magnets around on the counter. He’d never read the name on the garage when he’d passed it over the last two years. He’d seen the sign, but hadn’t retained the information. “The Alpha Auto Shop.” Alpha? Is Matt the so-called alpha? Is he gay too? Aiden could only wish.

  “The one on Walker Road? Okay, I’ll be there. Just…don’t touch anything.”

  “Why?” Aiden asked. What’s wrong with the garage?

  “It’s dirty,” Whit said. “Grease, dirt, grime. You don’t know what you’ll pick up there.”

  “I don’t know. It’s pretty clean.” Compared to the hospital, yes, the lobby wasn’t sterile, but it could’ve been worse.

  “Right. It’s a repair shop. Those places are always filthy. Just hold on and I’ll be there.” Without another word, Whit hung up.

  Aiden groaned again. He’d done that too much in the last half an hour. If he’d had his way, he would’ve called anyone but Whit. Walking would’ve been preferable. Whit tended to get the wrong idea about his level of interest. Aiden wasn’t in the market to date, didn’t want a quickie fuck in the hallway or a suck-off in the bathroom—and not from Whitman Sherman.

  When Aiden looked up from his phone, Matt pulled into the lot with his car attached to the back of the truck. He drove through to the gated area to the left of the building and disappeared. Aiden crept over to the window and watched Aaron and Matt unload the car. He wasn’t sure of the conversation between the two men, but from Aaron’s body language—shaking his head and frowning—he guessed Aaron wasn’t thrilled. Matt didn’t say anything, or if he did, Aiden didn’t notice his lips moving. His expression stayed still. Aaron waved his arms, then stormed back to the building.

  Aiden forced his attention from Matt and the truck in favor of staring out of the window at the few cars on Walker Road. He hated weddings and relationships too. Men expected too much from him. They wanted things like for him to change his hours at the hospital to suit those relationships. Not possible. He didn’t set his schedule. Dating another doctor made no sense. He knew the other ER doctors too well and considered them his brothers, and he spent almost no time outside the emergency room. If he hooked up with a doctor from another ward, they’d probably never see each other, either.

  He bowed his head. The last guy he’d dated had admitted after four months that he’d only stuck with Aiden for that long to cash in on the doctor paycheck. He’d wanted a sugar daddy. Too bad Aiden wasn’t bringing in huge bucks. The car—the damn thing—had been a splurge but a very second-hand item. The sports coupe looked good on the road and made a statement in the parking lot. But appearances meant nothing when the vehicle was attached to a tow truck.

  Aiden rubbed his forehead and looked up when bright lights infiltrated the lobby. A sigh stuck in his throat. He’d know that expensive car anywhere—Whit. Instead of parking in the lot or the gravel, Whit stopped right beside the door and honked the horn.

  Aiden bit back a growl. He left the lobby and opened the passenger door, but didn’t get into the car. “Hello, fire violation? Move.”

  Whit shrugged as Aiden closed the door. Whit zipped forward into the closest parking spot. His brakes screeched.

  Aaron hustled to the doorway and stopped beside Aiden.

  “Sorry,” Aiden muttered. He couldn’t meet Aaron’s gaze. “He’s a little pushy.”

  “I’d say entitled.” Aaron sighed. “Whatever. About your car. Matt’ll hunt down the part and we’ll see. If I know him, he’ll call around until the junk yards close or his contacts stop answering the phone. He’s relentless like that. Anyway, it should take about twenty-four hours to get the car back to being drivable. No guarantees.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate his relentlessness and your honesty. Have a good night.” He went out to the lot and found Matt beside the tow truck. “Hi,” he said. “Thank you.” Aiden offered his hand to Matt. When they shook hands, Aiden’s tingled. His breath caught in his throat and power surged within him. He’d never felt quite like this before. His thoughts muddled and he forgot what he’d come out to talk to Matt about. “Uh…I filled out the paperwork Aaron gave me. Call me when the car is done.” He’d never heard himself sound so mechanical. Yuck.

  “Will do.” Matt smiled. “I’ll see what I can do to get it back to you faster. I know what it’s like to not have a car.”

  “No worries, but thank you.” He lingered beside the truck longer than he should, but he couldn’t make himself leave the spot. Something between him and Matt had started. Was he falling in lust with the mechanic? Or was his radar locating interested guys broken?

  Matt leaned against the door of the truck but didn’t say anything.

  Shit. He’d been standing there for too long. Aiden nodded once. “I should be going.” He’d said the words more for himself than anything. “Thanks.”

  “Aiden,” Whit snapped. “Let’s go. We’re late and Farin will kill us.”

  “Right.” He smiled but wished Whit had kept his mouth shut. He wanted to keep talking to Matt—or at least sharing the moment with him. Aiden forced himself across the lot to Whit’s car and climbed into the passenger seat. He waved at Matt. Fate was a fickle bitch, but if this was the start of something, then he didn’t mind.

  “Why did you wave? He’s the help.” Whit sped out of the lot, spewing gravel from the back of his sports car. “You pay them, respect them, but don’t get cushy.”

  “He’s nice.”

  “For a mechanic.” Whit’s voice dripped with disdain. “Seriously. You can and will do better.”

  “Stop.” He massaged his temples. Listening to Whit caused a dull ache behind his eyes. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Are you okay? Is your head hurting? From the crash?” Whit zipped down the road past the hospital and blew through a yellow light. “I’ll just take you home. If you’ve got a concussion, then you need supervision.”

  “I don’t have a concussion. Christ, I’m getting sick of you. I appreciate that you came all the way out here to get me, but you’re acting like an ass. He’s a nice guy and while he’s a mechanic, he’s got feelings too.” The throbbing increased. He closed his eyes. “How about we be quiet and maybe it’ll go away.” Fat chance, but worth a shot.

  “You know…I’m tired of this.” Whit smacked his hand on the steering wheel. “You wanted me to rescue you. I did. I’ve seen the way you eyeball me. Don’t try to deny it.”

  “I’ve never looked at you that way.” He didn’t open his eyes. Since when had he been appraising Whit as date potential?

  “I’ve noticed. I also told you we’d end up at the wedding together. Maybe I come on too strong, but that sizzle between us is real. You should really listen to me more.” Whit brought the car to a stop. “We’re here. The wedding should be over by now. It wasn’t supposed to be a long ceremony.”

  Aiden opened his eyes. He’d rather have aspirin and time to crash in his armchair, but
he had to see his friends. He’d power through the headache for them. Soft white lights twinkled in the trees and jazz music played. White flowers had been strung on and from poles surrounding the guests. Aiden left the car but paused before he entered the party. His breath lodged in his throat again. This was what he’d asked for. Not to marry Farin or Steve, but the desire. The passion the two men had and the opportunity to share it with their friends. He wanted someone to join him on life’s journey. Whit eased up beside him and grasped Aiden’s hand, but he swatted his friend away. He had to get himself together.

  “People aren’t looking,” Whit growled. “You can touch me.”

  “I need some air.” Aiden strode away from Whit. He didn’t care where he went as long as it was far from his colleague. He spotted Farin and Steve under a floral arch. No one seemed to be bothering them. Great. He’d speak to them quickly, then find a ride home. He rounded the gathering of tables and guests. Farin spotted him first.

  “You’re here. I thought you’d skipped out on us.” Farin grasped Aiden’s hand. “You really need to be less important at the hospital.”

  “I had car trouble.” He hugged Farin, then Steve. “Congratulations. I can’t think of two better people to be married.”

  Steve winked. “Thank you.” He rolled his eyes. “I need to take care of something. Looks like my great-aunt found the wine. Excuse me. Thanks for coming, Aiden. Hopefully we can talk later.” He darted away, leaving Aiden alone with Farin.

  “I’m glad you made it and I’m sorry to hear about the car.” Farin dipped his head. “Saw you arrived with Whit. You’re playing with fire.”

  “Don’t remind me.” He turned his back on the party. “It wasn’t my best idea.”

  “He’s not your type,” Farin said.

  “Not at all.” He wasn’t about to argue. He and Whit would never work as a couple.

  “Um…then why? Because he had a car? Come on. You could’ve taken a taxi.” Farin leveled his gaze at Aiden. “Or are you having a lapse in judgment?”

  “I just needed a ride and wasn’t doing so hot under pressure.”

  Farin said nothing, but frowned.

  “I wrecked my car on the way.” He held up both hands. “My fault. I swerved to miss a truck that had gone left of center. The truck came right at me and I jumped the curb to not collide with it. That huge-ass curb by the hospital is dangerous. Anyway, I bent the rim and ruined the tire.”

  “Where’d you take it, Doc?” Farin asked. “Tell me you stayed away from Coby’s. That bastard overcharges for everything.”

  “No. I know it wasn’t there.” He hooked his fingers in his pants pockets. “Alpha Auto Shop…that’s the name. A guy named Matt is working on it. Seemed like a nice guy.”

  “Matt Phillips?”

  “Maybe? I didn’t ask for his last name.”

  “You just handed over the keys to someone you don’t know?” Farin shook his head. “I’m kidding. How else will he fix your car? Doc, we really need to talk about getting you out of the hospital more and into the fresh air.”

  “Yes, we do, and yes, I did. But he was working at the shop and I think he owns it.” Although now he was having second thoughts about his decision. “Was that a bad thing? Taking it there? I didn’t have a whole lot of choice.”

  “Not at all.” Farin rocked on his heels. “Matt is a good man. He looks like he’d kill someone—people see his tats and piercings and I’ve heard plenty of people claim he looks rough, but he’s nice. He’ll work hard for you.”

  “Good.” If Farin liked Matt, then that was a plus.

  “His turnaround time is awesome,” Farin said. “Once he’s on a case—or a car, whatever—he doesn’t rest until it’s fixed.”

  “That’s good to hear. I can’t handle Whit for much longer. He drives me crazy and he’ll want to be my personal taxi.” He sneaked a glance over his shoulder. Whit stood with a couple of muscle-bound men and two women at one of the round tables. At least he’d found someone to talk to instead of dogging Aiden all night.

  “I can see why.” Farin scrubbed his hand across his mouth. “He’s hitting on the busboy.”

  Embarrassment washed over him. He should’ve gone with a taxi. Fuck. “Oh well, he’s given me a reason to escape. My townhome isn’t far away. I’ll just walk home.”

  “The hell you will.” Farin snapped his fingers. A waiter strode up to him. Farin nodded once. “Let Gareth know he’s got a fare.”

  Without a word, the server disappeared.

  “The taxis are still running this late? I guess they would still be running until midnight or two.” Aiden watched people on the dance-floor area. “Or were you planning ahead?”

  “Steve and I met this fellow, Gareth. He’s nice and offered to ferry people who’ve had too much to drink. He’s got a ’57 Chevy with a red-and-yellow checkerboard design on it. He feels important and no one is driving home blitzed.” Farin shrugged. “I hoped maybe he’d meet someone. He’s sweet and cute, but shy.”

  “You’re not trying to pair me up, are you?” He wasn’t into shy men. He needed someone who could hold their own.

  “Nah. You’re not his type. He likes guys who are shorter than he is and he’s only five-eight. Come on. He’s parked out front.” Farin waved. “I hate seeing you miserable.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Aiden asked. “I’m not that awful.”

  “No, but you’re here with the wrong guy. Someone will let Whit know—if he doesn’t run off with the busboy first.”

  “Thanks.” He followed Farin to the driveway and the yellow Chevy. “Farin?”

  “That’s me.” Farin faced him. “You don’t want to go back and chase Whit, do you?”

  “No.” He shook his head. Not a chance. But he had a question. “How…how’d you know Steve was the one? That he was interested and it could work?”

  Farin paused. “Wow. You know how to knock a man down.” He folded his arms. “Well…at first, I didn’t. He was so young. Still is, but I didn’t think it’d work. We were so different too. But we started talking and those differences weren’t so big after all. It’s hard to explain. We just clicked. I swim more because of him and he’s more open about his love of comic books.”

  “So it could be out of the blue?” He doubted that would happen. Life liked to throw him curveballs rather than make anything easy.

  “Sure.” Farin knocked on the window of the taxi. “Heya, Gareth. Would you take my friend Aiden home?”

  “Sure,” Gareth said.

  Farin opened the back door. “I’ll see you in a week. We’re heading off to Fire Island for five days of just us. I love Genie, but I can’t wait.”

  “Sounds fun.” Aiden sighed. He hated to go home so early, but he couldn’t be there any longer. “Well, congrats. I’m ecstatic for you.”

  “Thanks. Have a good night. I know we will.” Farin wriggled his eyebrows.

  “I’m sure.” Aiden bit back a snort.

  “You’re jealous as hell. You should be.” Farin clapped him on the shoulder. “Doc, it’ll happen. I know. Cedarwood is for gay lovers. Trust me.”

  “Okay.” He ducked into the car and settled on the seat. He wasn’t sure what to think about Farin’s comment. Cedarwood is for gay lovers. What does that mean?

  “Where are we going, Doc?” Gareth smiled via his reflection in the rearview mirror.

  “It’s Aiden,” Aiden said. “But you can call me Doc, I don’t mind, and you can take me to Honeysuckle Avenue. I’m in the Briarwood Estates.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Aiden rode in the back seat in silence. He’d missed the wedding and ducked out of the reception. Hopefully, the night had been magical. He rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes. Was he wrong to want what Farin and Steve had? Maybe. But he did. Jealousy and longing filtered into his brain. His dates never turned out right. The guy was either too greedy or needy. They were jealous of his job or wanted an open relationship. They didn�
��t give a shit about his desires or needs. He craved a companion. Someone he could share a great love with, but was that man out there? He wasn’t sure. Mr. Wonderful had to exist. Had to.

  Chapter Two

  Matt worked through the night to locate the rim for Aiden’s car. He slept for a few hours, then ventured back to the shop. Although he needed the rest, he couldn’t shut his brain down. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought about Aiden. Holy hell. How had he been so lucky to run into a man like Aiden? Most of his clients didn’t walk into the shop in suits. The way Aiden’s suit clung to his frame and the cut of his hair… He wasn’t like the other men Matt had been attracted to. He tended to gravitate to gruff guys—ones covered in ink and metal. Aiden didn’t strike him as a tattoo kind of person.

  He finished up the paperwork on Aiden’s car, then headed into the garage bay. “How are you coming on the tire?”

  “I’m almost done.” Aaron grinned. “This is record time for us. If the good doc isn’t happy, I’ll karate chop him. I hate working on Sundays.”

  “Nah. He’ll be happy.” Matt twiddled with the cell phone. “I’m not wild about Sunday work, either, but it’s when a lot of others have the time to bring their cars in. Speaking of cars, we’ve got a job. Do you want to retrieve it or should I?”

  “Sure. I’m tired of looking at the undercarriage of this car.” Aaron wiped his hands. “I’ll need your help to get this belt on later.”

  “Deal.” He returned to the office and took care of the tow call. He jotted down the information. Running the tow truck didn’t bother him, but he’d prefer to see Aiden. If he didn’t hang out at the garage, he risked missing him.

  “Shit.” Aaron strode into the office. “I need you to get the car. I just got the fuel line taken apart and I don’t want to stop while I’m ahead.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to look at the underside of the car?”

  “I lied.” Aaron shrugged. “No, I’m finally in a groove. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” He grabbed his coat and the truck keys, then made his way across the lot to the massive vehicle. Well, shit. He headed out on the call. The coupe was waiting in a ditch on the state route north of town. After an hour of wrangling with the vehicle and arguing with the owner, he pulled back into the lot at the garage.