“Did you help Ace and Sonny today?” he asked, which went against logic, because this man had manicured cuticles and not a spot of dirt on him.
“Worked the cashier stand,” Eric replied. “Ernie, their young helper, had a….” He frowned and blinked rapidly. “Needed some air,” he supplied and then looked annoyed with himself, as though he’d committed an incredibly stupid mistake.
“That place must be broiling,” Brady said.
“No, temperature controlled” came the answer. “I’m not sure what happened.” He let out a little chuff of air. “Icanadvise you not to get on Sonny’s bad side. Ever.” He gave a shudder that seemed real enough. “Terrifying.”
Brady thought of the intense young mechanic. “Yeah. Got that impression. Knows his cars, though. That Ford SHO is a beauty.”
“Mm. I always preferred German made myself. Audi, Porsche, Mercedes.”
Brady turned toward him in surprise. “Those’re pricey automobiles there. I’m afraid I’m a bit simpler.”
Eric then gave him an assessing glance—partly speculative,whollysexual. “I admire simple tastes,” he purred, and Brady almost fell over.
“I… I, uhm… uhm….”
“You arenotgoing to tell me you’re straight.”
“No,” Brady said, disgruntled as he failed to get his heart rate under control. “Just startled. You’re very hard to read.”
He wasn’t imagining the smug smile that crossed Mr. Rich and Pretty’s face. “But am I interesting enough for an hour or so of your time?” he proposed.
Brady had opened his mouth and honest to God didn’t know what he was about to say, when Ace’s voice called them from the other side of the garage.
“C’mon in, you two. Sonny looked up bruschetta and wants your help, Eric. And frankly, he might ruin some of your pricier ingredients if you don’t get up there. He’s in a lather.”
Brady was about to thank God for being saved by the bell when Ace added, “You too, Brady. You’re our man of the hour with that Subaru—least we can do is feed you.”
“We’re on our way,” Eric said smoothly, and he cast Brady an amused glance. “As much as some of us would have been happy to escape,” he murmured, just for Brady’s ears.
“Grateful for the invite,” Brady retorted, giving the man a hard look as he passed him up to follow Ace to the tiny house beyond the garage.
BRADY HADN’Tthought of it, but the house reallywassmall. The front door opened straight into a kitchen that featured battered vinyl flooring, a sturdy kitchen table, a well-used stove, and a pass-through from the kitchen to the living room with a couple of stools pulled up to the counter.
A wide archway led to the living room, and there were four doors, two on one side of the room, one across from the kitchen, and one a little to the right. Since the outside of the house was built like a big square, Brady was going to guess there were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a laundry room, all of them stacked log-cabin style because mitered corners would have been too complex. The bedroom on the far side of the living room was adjacent to a window with a swamp cooler in it that seemed to fill in a space not easily seen from the road, and Brady frowned.
“We added the room,” Ace said from the kitchen. “Eric, git over here, you’re the one giving lessons.”
Eric—who appeared even more long-limbed and gracious in the yellow light of the kitchen—smiled in acknowledgment and took a couple of strides toward the sink before he frowned.
“Would you like me to remove my shoes?” he asked, and Brady took his cue and shoved off his boots to leave them in a neat line against the entryway wall with the other shoes there.
“That’s nice to offer,” Sonny said. “Isn’t that nice to offer?”
“Da,” said the sprawling Russian giant Brady had seen that morning. He was sitting, legs stretched in front of him, on their futon, “Some of us have manners.”
“Where’s Ernie?” Brady asked, remembering that Ernie had been sick.
“In his bedroom,” Ace said. “He’s up odd hours. He naps there on days he works.”
“Where does he live?” It occurred to Brady, then, that three of these people had arrived together with the comfort of familiarity.
“Neighborhood off the freeway,” the Russian told him, and Brady nodded while thinking that was the perfect answer.Mostof the neighborhoods in Victoriana were off the freeway—that didn’t make this one any easier to find.
“Eric said he was under the weather?”
The Russian cast Brady an unfriendly glance. “You ask many questions. Don’t.”
