FOURTEEN
Gazing around the shop, Gunner wiped his hands on a rag and let the smug satisfaction fill him. His bike was still in the shop, of course, but other than that, and Mike’s penis extension Jag, the shop was empty. He and Sam and Mike, working long, hard hours, had cleared it out completely.
Sam caught his eye and shot him a secret little smile, and Gunner tried hard not to feel the surge of hope that threatened to lift him right up off of the ground. Sam still hadn’t answered him if he wanted Gunner to stay around or not, and Gunner had asked a couple of days ago.
So he probably shouldn’t let himself think that there might be a chance. Sam was still in the closet, as far as Gunner could tell, and Gunner was asking him to at least consider coming out. It was a lot, and Gunner knew it. For both of them.
He would give Sam whatever time that he needed, even if patience had never exactly been a huge virtue of his.
“See you tomorrow, boys,” Mike called, poking his head in from the other room. Gunner waved to him, and it amazed him that he, of all people, was trusted to be left almost alone in someone’s business. This place was more than a job to Mike, and it touched Gunner deeply that he had been accepted so fully.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Sam had sidled over to him and was pressing himself against Gunner, lightly brushing their bodies together in a fairly blatant erotic challenge. Every chance they got, they stole these moments together, and even if Sam never opened his heart to Gunner, he knew that he was lucky to have this beautiful man interested in him, even if just for sex.
“I just have to finish sweeping,” Gunner informed him. He was being given a chance, and Mike had made noises about being willing to keep Gunner on as long as he wanted to stay. So he let the bristles of the broom slip over the floor, and as he went, he brushed against the shrouded shape of the Jag.
“Gunner, watch it!” Sam scolded, as the dustsheet which covered Mike’s pride and joy started to slip. “I swear, Mike will have kittens or something if you scratch that thing.”
Chagrined, Gunner snagged the dustsheet as it slipped free and then paused with a low whistle as the gleaming car came into sight. It was just so beautiful, the sort of car that Gunner would cheerfully sell his soul for if he could find an interested buyer.
“Hey, Sammy?” Gunner turned to look at his lover, shooting him a wink. “I know where Mike keeps the key to this pretty girl.”
“Oh my God. Gunner. No.” Sam’s eyes were wide with alarm, but there was interest in his face, too. Gunner could swear to it.
“We could just sit in it. Haven’t you ever wanted to make out in a classic car?” Gunner started to fold up the dust sheet, turning to face Sam as he tucked it aside. “Mike will never know. You must be at least a little curious.”
Sam hesitated, and Gunner grinned to himself. How could someone not be curious? Even Sam, who wasn’t the most mechanically inclined guy on the planet, could be intrigued by a car like this. Anyone would be.
But Sam was such a stickler for rules. Gunner rolled his eyes but pulled out his phone. He sent off a quick text to Mike, asking for permission, pointing out that it was bad for a car to not be driven. Machinery worked better if it was used.
Seconds later, he got back a reply. Just two words, but two words that showed Gunner just how much trust Mike had in him.
Be careful.
That was it. Gunner showed the text to Sam, then pulled him close and kissed him, wildly excited, the beginnings of an erection starting to form from the moment their lips touched. It was a beautiful night, he had a gorgeous man by his side, and he was going to get to go in the car which he’d been drooling over since he had arrived.
“Okay,” Sam finally agreed, flushed and laughing, as the kiss finally broke. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Gunner couldn’t have agreed with those particular sentiments any more than he did.
* * *
The car handled like a dream. It was very clear how much love and attention had been put into her because the sound of her engine was a smooth, seductive, rumbling purr. Gunner was pretty sure that he’d actually died and gone to heaven, and he headed immediately out of town, onto the open road, which had once been the only home that he had.
“Do you miss it?” Sam asked, his hand slipping over to rest on Gunner’s leg, squeezing lightly. Briefly, Gunner reached down and pulled those fingers further up his own leg, then held it, fingers stroking lightly over the back of Sam’s hand.
“Miss what?” Gunner asked, and Sam smiled at him, then rested his head against Gunner’s shoulder, snuggling against him in a way that would have seemed utterly impossible even a week ago.
“Being on the road,” Sam replied, and Gunner shot a startled glance over at Sam. Had his lover developed some sort of telepathy? Gunner had literally just been thinking about that.
Or was it just that, against all the odds, Sam was getting good at reading Gunner? What an absolutely horrifying thought or it should have been. Gunner made a point of not letting people get him so that no one could predict what he could do. His life depended on it, even.
But if he could trust anyone, surely it was Sam?
“Sort of,” Gunner answered honestly, a little bit to his own surprise. That wasn’t like him at all. “Mostly, no.”
What he didn’t say was too uncomfortable for him to put into words—that he was happier being in town, knowing where he was going to be sleeping every night, where his money was coming from, and
that Sam was going to be there.
