Promise Rock 03 - Living Promises (MM) (12 page)

“So, Sparky,” Jeff said, giving his trademark snarky-face as he got out of the little blue Mini Cooper, “you think you could take a look at this without violating my warranty?”

Collin nodded. He was certified with most of the dealerships— Saab, no; Mini Cooper, absolutely. But he didn't fall into Jeff's leading trap of thinking they were just odd acquaintances. If he'd picked Jeff up at a club and given it to him against a wall—yes, he could probably do that. But he'd kissed Jeff, and kisses were important, and he wasn't wasting two of his best kisses to be, “Hey, nice to see you again!”

“How's Martin?” he asked personably, and was interested to watch Jeff's normally animated face grow still and guarded.

“Spiffy,” he said with a brittle smile. “Absolutely wonderful. Just saw him today, actually. He's”—beat, beat, beat—“settling in.”

Oh Jesus. “He doesn't mean any of that shit personally, you know that, right?” Collin asked, flipping the hood of the car open and scanning an almost pristine engine. He started going through a leisurely check of fluids as he talked, but he wasn't expecting it to be that easy. This car was as regularly maintained as Jeff himself.

“What shit?” Jeff asked, his eyes almost blind with all the effort he was putting in to not seeing what Collin was talking about.
“Whatever shit makes you look like you swallowed a bug.”
Jeff wrinkled his nose, the first spontaneous expression Collin had seen on his face since their little chat in the mudroom at The Pulpit. “That's just gross,” he said with feeling. “Think of a better analogy or quit talking.”
“How about we skip the analogies, and you tell me what's wrong. You look like shit.” He wiped the oil dipstick off with the cloth he stuffed in his blue coveralls and moved to check the steering fluid.
“How about we skip the personal disclosure and move to the part where we fix my car!”
Goddamned stubborn man would make a bank vault look like an open-air picnic!
“I don't know—why don't you tell me what I'm looking for?”
Oh please, please, please let it be something small and stupid that makes me look like a hero, please, please, please….
Jeff put his hands on his cocked hips and blew out a breath of air. “It's not steering right,” he said with a frown. “It takes some time in the morning before it's not too stiff to drive, and you can hear it making noise when you make sharp turns.”
Fuck.
“Well, shit. That sounds like you're missing steering fluid—”
“But I just replaced it!” Jeff protested, and Collin grimaced.
“Yeah—I was afraid of that. If you just replaced it, that probably means it's building up in the suspension.” Collin took a deep breath and prepared to oust himself from the running of alpha male for good. “This is going to take a whole new part. I can get one used, maybe from the network, if price is a problem….”
“No, no.” Jeff shook his head. “I'd rather have a new part—but how long will it take?”
Collin let his deep breath out. “It's going to take me at least a week to get it in. If you want a place to have it faster, one of the bigger chain repair shops might actually have one in stock.”
“And do that to a friend?” Jeff asked, his indignation making him perch, almost like a meerkat, shoulders back and hands at the chest. But his faith—and his loyalty—were touching, and Collin's own shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“'Preciate it,” he grunted. “You can drive it now, right? Not comfortable, but drivable?”
Jeff nodded. “Yeah—it's been going on for a while.”
“Then hold onto it for a bit. Give me a chance to go back and put out an order and see how long it's going to take. Again, I'll let you know up front, a bigger chain place could make this whole process easier— even for the installation, because they've probably done a few of these a month, and we don't get them a lot.”
Again, that adorable indignation. “Yeah, but this is my
baby.
You think I'm going to leave her in the hands of someone who doesn't know her?”
Collin let his relief show in his smile this time. “Excellent. I'll go place the order and come back with a timeline.”
Collin watched Jeff through the window as he waited on the phone to the parts distributor. The man was never still. His hands were always in motion, patting his car's roof, fidgeting with something inside, sorting through the stack of mail he kept in the little island between the seats. There was no “lounging back and taking it cool” for Jeff—check the name on the form—Beachum. About the only thing he didn't do was check his hair, but Collin was pretty sure that was because it had been primped enough already that day. He did, however, straighten his natty silver trench coat over his long-sleeved camel-colored sweater and make sure his shirttails were fashionably
un
tucked from his tight black slacks about six times before he pulled out his über-phone and started to press buttons on
that.
Collin was greatly cheered, even as he sat on terminal hold.
“He's cute,” Joshua said, coming up behind Collin and wiping his hands on a towel. “You gonna get him a tiara for the prom?”
Collin pulled one corner of his mouth up. “Jeff would probably wear it,” he muttered, wondering why the parts distributor always seemed to be made of time, especially when he was in a hurry.
Joshua watched as Jeff dusted another bit of imaginary lint off of his black trousers. “I have no doubt. You gonna take him?”
“I would if he'd go,” Collin muttered, tapping his pen. “I'm just lucky he's letting me work on his car.”
“What's his hang-up?”
“God, too many to count. It's what makes him so fascin—yeah, I need the power steering apparatus of a 2008 Mini Cooper, you got one of those hanging 'round handy?”
He was put on hold again and was surprised when Joshua didn't just wander back to the garage like he usually did. When Collin looked at him as though to ask why, he was surprised to find Joshua's gray eyes were looking back impatiently, waiting for his attention.
“You're not just playing with this boy, are you?”
Collin blinked. “No,” he said, meaning it. “Look, Joshua—about five and a half years ago, he—”
“When you were diagnosed.” The old man's voice was nononsense. Collin had told him about the HIV because they were forever scraping knuckles and banging elbows in their job, and he'd wanted Joshua to know that the safety protocols were no joke.
“Yeah. When I was stupid and scared and about two minutes from taking off and living on the streets instead of growing the fuck up, okay? And he took five minutes out of his day—and he must have been as scared as I was, you know?” Worse, if Collin had put things together right about Big Tragic Dead Boyfriend and when that had all gone down.
“Well, five minutes does not a winning personality make,” Joshua said sagely, and Collin grunted, trying to find words for it.
“I know that. Back then, I thought he was a god.”
“And what do you think of him now?” Joshua asked curiously, and Collin watched as Jeff started to bob his head in time to what was probably the clock-watching theme to Jeopardy.
“I think he's fuckin' adorable.”
Joshua laughed a little. “Well, good for you. Go court him like a Trojan—”
“With a pocket full of 'em for good measure,” Collin finished dryly. It had been Joshua's mantra for Collin's dating life during the past three years. While Collin was nowhere
near
as promiscuous as he had been in high school, he wasn't a monk. He was honest, up-front, and deadly careful about protection—but he'd read all that HIV literature twice for good measure, and nowhere in there was the clause about living like a monk, or a chastity pledge (and he'd been stupid enough to believe Charlene's threat that there would be), so he figured he was good.
“Mr. Waters?” came the voice on the other end of the line, and Collin was so startled he almost dropped the phone.
“Yeah?”
“About that part you ordered….”
Collin got down to business, because he was good and he was competent and he had pride in his work, but he
so
wished he always had Jeff to look at when he was dealing with the parts people. Even watching him put on his designer sunglasses and lean back against his car to play video games on his phone was a treat—Collin had always liked pretty boys and classic bottoms. He was just an old-fashioned guy that way.
When he came out of the office a few minutes later, he moved stealthily. He wanted a peek over Jeff's shoulder to see what he was playing.
A-ha!
Jeff jumped and stared at him with big eyes, and Collin realized he'd said that out loud.
“
Angry Birds!
” Collin crowed, trying to cover for the fact that he didn't mean to scare the shit out of the guy.
“Happy Cats? Psychotic Dogs? I give,” Jeff muttered, clearing the screen on his phone. “What's the subcategory, and what game are we playing?”
“
Angry Birds
,” Collin told him with a roll of his eyes. “That's the name of the video game!”
Jeff blushed, and Collin gave thanks for skin so fair you could see a dull red, even under a tan. “It's fun,” he muttered, and Collin grinned.
“For my six-year-old nephew, yeah, it's a blast!”
“Did you have something you needed to tell me?” Jeff shoved his phone in the back pocket of his slacks, but Collin had some doubts that it would stay there—the slacks were pretty damned tight as it was.
“Yeah. The part will be here in a week, and in the meantime, don't go on any long trips, and don't go on any short trips with windy roads, because your steering could go all stiff and nasty”—
don't laugh at the dirty joke, don't laugh at the dirty joke
—“at any time.”
Jeff smirked. “Stiff and nasty? Are you telling me my car is horny? Because I don't see a hot Lexus with a probe for its tailpipe, so I think it's going to be
sorely
disappointed.”
“Dammit!” Collin snickered. “I wasn't going to go there!”
“You perv! Cars don't swing that way!” Jeff chortled, and Collin lost his manly snicker and actually dissolved into a giggle.
Jeff paused then and looked at him in surprise, and Collin's giggles faded.
“That was, uhm, the first time I've heard you sound young,” Jeff said, looking embarrassed. “I keep forgetting you're—what? Twentythree?”
Collin swallowed, cursing himself and the untimely giggle. “Twenty-four. Why does it matter? You keep calling me Sparky and reminding yourself—why does it bother you when you forget?”
Jeff flushed. “Look, I'm sorry, I've taken enough of your morning. If I'm going to drive up to Coloma today, I've got to get a move on!”
And the age thing was dropped like an egg from a high school gym roof.
“Coloma!” Collin protested. “Did you not
hear
me? I said no winding roads and no long trips! You're going to take a car with faulty steering up to
Coloma
? Jesus, are you taking stupid pills or just missing your adrenaline rush this morning?”
Jeff rubbed the back of his neck and looked up into the grayscale November sky. “Shit,” he muttered. “Shit, shit, shit… no. You're right.” He glared at Collin sideways before his eyes went back to their “thinking” position again. “Not that you're tactful about it, but you're right. No—it's the whole reason I stopped by in the first place. I'll get a rental car.” Jeff keyed up his phone again, obviously looking for the closest one, swearing, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” the whole time.
Collin looked at Joshua over Jeff's shoulder and pointed to his watch. Joshua shrugged and made “go away” motions, and Collin was grateful. “Look, I'll take you,” he said, turning around and unzipping his coveralls as he went. He had a long-sleeved T-shirt underneath, but still, the chill hit him as soon as the zipper was down. He looked up to see Jeff trotting in his wake.
“No need, Sparky!” Jeff was saying, dogging Collin's heels with his mouth set mutinously. “I'm a big boy, I know how to rent a car.”
“Yeah, but I'm the boss, so I can work late tomorrow and take off today, right?”
“Yeah,” Jeff snapped in exasperation, “but why do you need to?”
Collin stopped in his tracks and looked at Jeff with enough incredulity to make the other man falter. “Because I want to. Isn't that enough?”
Jeff took one of those deep, cleansing breaths that were starting to piss Collin off to no end. “I don't need anybody with me when I do this,” he said, as though speaking to a child, and Collin caught his chin with enough firm pressure that pulling back would have caused a scene. It was a risk, but Collin gambled right, and Jeff stayed put, furious and still, as the two of them stood toe to toe.
“I don't even know what you're doing, Jeff, and I can tell you need someone. You need someone so bad, it's like I keep waiting for you to shatter if no one holds you. All your friends are taken, Jeffy—you may as well give me a shot. I've got pretty strong arms, I can do a whole lot of holding.”
Jeff swallowed, and Collin had to rethink how very fragile Jeff's shell of self-reliance really was. “This is going to be really messy,” he whispered. “I didn't even ask Crick.”
“Crick doesn't want to kiss you like I do,” Collin whispered back. “I think you should give me a chance to see if I'll spook.”
Jeff nodded and took a dignified step back. “Are we going to drive the monster big-dick car? Because Mikhail hasn't shut up about how wonderful it all is—I think he's trying to make Shane jealous.”
Collin grinned. “I think that's sort of impossible, since it's pretty obvious Mikhail would walk on fire for the guy.”
“Yeah, but he's pretty hilarious when he tries, so Shane lets him.” Jeff's smile was maybe the strongest thing about him.
“Yeah, we're taking the Camaro—it's out back. Park the Mini in that spot right there”—Collin pointed to the “next-up” spot in front of the office—“and grab your stuff. I'll be right there.”
Jeff nodded and turned back toward his car, and Collin concentrated on going from grease monkey to dream date in record time.
He knew he succeeded when Jeff rolled his eyes as Collin walked up.
“Very cute, Sparky. Who are you trying to impress?”
“You're not enough?” Collin asked, smirking. His reward was an almost fond smile that Jeff tried to hide as he opened his side of the car and got in.
“I already said you cleaned up pretty,” Jeff replied smartly, and Collin tried not to make his preening too obvious. He obviously failed.
“Stop it, Sparky—you're becoming insufferable. I'm not going to tell you what you already know, so give it up.”
Collin had to laugh—Jeff could do that to a guy. He started the car and pulled away, making sure he had enough fuel to get the hell out of Levee Oaks for sixty miles or so, and then continued the conversation. “Okay, fine. So my über-man-hawtness is wasted on you. Whom did I just take a GI shower for?”
Jeff shuddered and winced, turning his head to actually look at Collin in his freshly scrubbed, freshly shaved, man-fumed, pit-stopped glory. “You did
what
? In the bay of your
garage
?
Jesus
, kid—I was asking for a ride, not a date!”
“Well I didn't know who we were meeting!” Collin protested, but secretly he was very pleased. It was worth a cold hose, a rough towel, and going commando because his briefs smelled like engine oil if Jeff thought he looked date-worthy. “Uhm, who are we meeting?”
“My mother,” Jeff muttered, as though this actually hurt him to say.
“Your
mother
!” Oh shit. “We're going to meet your mother and you couldn't let me go home and put on underwear?”
“Well,” Jeff snapped, “it's not like she's going to remember who in the fuck you are in ten minutes anyway!”
Oh.
“Oh,” Collin said gently. “Uhm, Alzheimer's?”
Jeff shrugged, and there was a silence then. Collin let it stretch out, figuring that Jeff would fill it when he was ready. Collin was right.