What could I say? Even if the promise of a hot meal wasn’t on the cards, he’d had me the second a shower was offered. Cleaning up at the public library bathroom sink in cold water had never been my preference. And I already knew I couldn’t get into the Y for a shower for another couple of days since they gave out tickets for the homeless who took turns. The shelters were always stuffed to the rafters on cold winter days, so that wasn’t an option either.
“I’d be grateful. Thank you, Patsy.” I smiled at him.
He returned my smile. “Grand.” He straightened. “I’ll be back,” he said, before turning and walking out of the kitchen.
“He’s very stubborn,” Napoleon said, leaning one hip against a kitchen cabinet as he held a fresh pot of tea for the priest. “You won’t get him to change his mind about anything once he decides that you’re his.”
I snorted. “His?”
He grinned widely and the contrast of his straight teeth in his dark face was stark. “His.”
With that, he straightened and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me sitting in the booth, feeling overwhelmingly happy for the first time since learning I had to leave home all those months ago.
Chapter Five
PATSY
After finishing up my statement to the two LAPD detectives, Patsy, Napoleon, and I left the priest. We wished Napoleon good night at his car before going to the parking garage where I squeezed into the front seat of Patsy’s car once again. I almost laughed at how silly I must look with my knees drawn up as I folded myself into the passenger seat like a pretzel. When Patsy got in, he turned to look at me and smiled.
“What’s the story?” he asked.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
Patsy rolled his eyes. “Looks like I’ve got to teach ya some Irish, mate. It means I was askin’ why yer grinnin’ like a loon.”
I pointed to my knees. “Just the way I have to fold myself practically in half every time I get into this car. Not that I’m complaining, Patsy,” I added quickly. “You’ve been very kind to drive me around all day and wait for the doctor to see me at the hospital. I know you skipped work today and I feel terrible about that…and now you’re taking me home with you to look after me and—”
“Say no more about it, Wes. I deserve to take the day off to help a friend. Besides, it was my fault ya got shot to begin with.” He looked terrible, like he was steeped in regret as he quickly turned away and started the car’s engine to pull out of the parking garage. In seconds he’d pulled out onto Santa Monica, shifting gears as he drove down the street.
“Don’t say that again, Patsy,” I said.
“What?” he asked, looking over at me with a perplexed expression.
“What happened wasn’t your fault. That gunman was responsible for my gunshot. You were the hero last night. You took him down and knocked his ass out.” I slowly reached over and covered his hand resting on the gearshift. My arm throbbed but I didn’t care. His hand felt wonderful under mine, and though, I wanted to leave it there, I didn’t want him to think I was coming onto him. Some men hated that and anyone as tough as a guy on an FBI Tac Team probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Not to mention that my seduction skills were extremely rusty. I hadn’t gotten laid since before giving up my apartment and moving back home with my sick mom. I felt myself blush when I realized where my thoughts had strayed and started to pull my hand away when Patsy let go of the gearshift and intertwined my fingers with his.
I instantly looked up at his face only to find him smiling at me. He tightened his fingers, and I smiled back, trying hard not to be shocked. No straight man let you hold his hand like that. I cleared my throat and looked away as he broke eye contact to concentrate on the road. He made no move to let go of my hand, though. Warmth ran over my skin, all the way up my arm to the wound, where I was reminded of it.
“Are ya havin’ pain?” he asked, finally letting go of my hand to shift gears.
“I-I forgot about it when you held my hand,” I said quietly, knowing I had to give Patsy the opportunity to deny what I’d perceived.
He grinned but didn’t take his eyes off the road as he drove. “Yeah, I can understand that. I am pretty.”
I smiled, though he wasn’t paying any attention to me…still driving and not looking in my direction. “You really are,” I said quietly. I took a deep breath and then blurted my next question. “Patsy, are you gay?”
He didn’t hesitate or even blink before replying. “Aye, in fact, I am.” I felt a shiver run through my whole body when he confirmed what I’d sensed. I didn’t say anything and when I didn’t, he glanced over wearing a small frown. “Does that bother ya, Wes?”
“No!” Realizing that came out harshly, I cleared my throat to try again, lowering the pitch of my voice. “What I meant to say was that no, it doesn’t bother me because I’m gay too. I just didn’t want to presume. Statistically speaking, that kind of thing can get a person in trouble. I just thought it was better to say something rather than leave you with questions.”
“Thank you. It’s always an awkward conversation and I still haven’t worked out the right time to bring somethin’ like that up, so I’m glad we talked about it.” He was smiling as he watched traffic and drove us down Santa Monica.
I nodded. “Patsy, you need to take me back to my car.”
This time he did look over. “Sure, that’s grand…but why? I thought ya agreed to stay at my place, so I can feed ya and let ya use my lovely, hot shower I mentioned.”
Dammit.I didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but at the same time, I almost felt embarrassed asking him to make a detour. “I don’t have any clothes but what I’m wearing, and even though you’ve been too kind to mention anything, you must have noticed that these aren’t so fragrant. I have clothes in my car. If we can stop there first, I’d appreciate it.” I felt bad enough for agreeing to sleep over at his place. It was humiliating. Then again, so was being forced out of my house to live on the street.
Patsy nodded. “I apologize, Wes. I’m so sorry. Of course, I’ll take ya to yer car so ya can be pickin’ up a few things.” He turned and glanced at me with something bordering on pity, though, he tried to hide the expression behind a mask. I hated that he felt like he had to hide from me but understood why he did. Patsy Good was a decent human and sadly, over the last several months, I’d come to realize there were a lot fewer of those than one would expect. I was very relieved when he said nothing and drove back to the neighborhood where I’d parked my car.
