Prologue

PROLOGUE

Jack

I’m standing behind the counter of my service station, Jack of All Trades, when the slick BMW pulls up to the pump. That’s nothing new. We’re the only gas station between Big Sur and San Simeon.

I’ve seen my share of relieved expressions over the years, and it’s the same with the handsome stranger who slides out of the driver’s side, credit card in hand. He lifts the pump and gives his car some needed gas. At least, that’s the scenario I’ve created in my head. Some travelers plan poorly, even if they’re aware of the long highway stretch and their quarter-full tanks.

The man adjusts his tie as he waits. His shirtsleeves are rolled to his elbows, his suit trousers cut nicely to accentuate his ass and thighs. I turn away from the glass storefront so I’m not caught admiring him—by him or by my best friend, Frank, who will no doubt tease me relentlessly. He’s lucky he’s so damned good with engines.

I sigh as the man slips back behind the wheel. He’ll be on his way, and I’ll never see him again. Just the way it is around here.

I silently thank the attractive man for the eye candy, but then I see his frown through the windshield as he stares at something on his dash. He puts the car in reverse, backs away from the pump, then pulls forward to the garage entrance. I wonder what’s up.

The man adjusts his sunglasses as he exits the car and steps inside to the counter.

This close, I notice his sun-kissed scruff and green eyes. I clear my dry throat. “Can I help you?”

“Did you know your service station is the only one around for miles?”

“Obviously. Who do you think pays for the billboard that led you here?” We hear the same sentiment countless times a week. “Where you from?”

“San Jose.” I figured he was from the city, but I would’ve guessed San Francisco. Though, I was close enough since San Jose is known as the capital of Silicon Valley. Not that I’ve already sized this guy up, but I’ll bet I’m not that far off the mark. “I’m returning from a friend’s wedding in Big Sur.”

“Cliffside view?”

He nods. “It was gorgeous.”

“Photos can’t do it justice.” Believe me, I tried back in the day.

“True.” He blinks as if he’s just remembered the reason he’s come inside. “Anyway, I think something’s wrong under the hood. I needed gas and was relieved to find your station. But even after filling up, which effectively shut the gas gauge off, the check engine light remains on.”

“That can happen if the fuel pump doesn’t detect gas in the tank. Could also mean your fuel filter needs replacing.”

“Right.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Would you mind taking a look?”

“Sure thing. Give me a minute.” I step toward the open door leading to the maintenance garage. “Hey, got time to check this Bimmer?”

Frank nods as he wipes his greasy hands on a towel, then pushes the button to lift the garage door.

“Just pull right in, and Frank will take care of you.”

I get lost in customers and paperwork, yet I’m still keenly aware that the man has sat in the row of chairs customers use while waiting for service. We’re a no-frills station, offering water and soda but not much else.

Just as I’m heading over to point out the vending machine to the customer, Frank motions me to the garage, and I beeline for him instead. “The fuel filter needs replacing, and the head gasket is in bad shape.”

“That’ll go over really well,” I mutter.

Most customers don’t like being told bad news or paying an arm and a leg to get work done on their cars, especially costly engine parts. But maybe it’ll only be a drop in the bucket for this guy, whose shoes are so expensive-looking he could probably afford several pairs.

“What is it?” the man asks as we approach, presenting a united front.

“Have you noticed any smoke leaking from your tailpipe or your car overheating?”

“Maybe I’ve smelled some fumes recently, but I didn’t think anything of it.”

I nod. “That’s one of the signs your head gasket needs replacing.”

He winces. “Will I be able to make it home?”

Frank shrugs. “Hard to tell how many miles you got left before it conks out on you or damages your engine.”

“It’s not something you want to mess with,” I add. “Lucky you pulled off the freeway when you did.”

“This isn’t some sort of schtick, is it?” The man looks between us as he stands. “To drum up more business?”

“You’re joking, right?” I clench my jaw at the entitled comment. “Feel free to take your chances out on the road.”

“Sorry, that was uncalled for. I’m just stressing.” He holds up his hands and takes a step back. “How long will it take to fix?”

“We’ll need to order the part,” I say, then defer to Frank.

“Should be here in the morning, and you’ll be ready to hit the road again sometime tomorrow afternoon,” Frank adds.

“Well, fuck.” The man pushes his fingers through his hair. “Suppose I don’t have a choice.”

“We aren’t the worst town to break down in,” Frank mumbles. “Though some might disagree.”

I narrow my eyes at Frank, who’s always been curious about other locales but has never done much traveling. “He’s only teasing.”

The man nods, then glances out the window. “Where can I stay around here…? I don’t even know the name of this town.”

“Aqua Vista.” I throw Frank a pointed look. “Don’t you have some work to do?”

He snickers as he heads toward the garage. Truth be told, the pumps help keep our heads above water. Not that we don’t have a steady flow of customers for oil changes and the like. But we’ve had to count our pennies during the leaner months.

“What did he mean by that?” the man asks, his eyes trained on his car in the bay.

“Just that we’re more of a pass-through town. Nothing special, even with the beach in one direction and the foothills of the Santa Lucia mountains in the other. Too many other places in California to head for a vacation spot.” We aren’t Big Sur by any stretch, but there’s not a bad view anywhere you look. “Most old-timers don’t want us to become a flashy tourist location anyway, and others like to spread rumors that our town is cursed.”

His eyes grow wide. “Cursed?”

“A ridiculous old wives’ tale, but that’s a small town for you.” I shouldn’t have mentioned it, but Frank had reminded me.

“Figures,” he mutters under his breath, but I don’t call him on it. “So, a place to stay?”

“There’s a motel up the road.”

“How far is the walk?”

“Not too bad.” I point behind me to the hills. “About a mile.”

He lifts his cell. “Place to grab a bite to eat?”

“A few options, including my brother’s bar. I’m headed there myself for dinner.” I glance at my watch. “You want, I can drive you to the motel and then to get some grub.”

“That would be great. Are you sure?” he asks, and I nod. He unlocks his phone and taps at the screen, likely texting someone. “I’ll just need to grab my bag.”

He follows me to the garage, and as he opens his back seat, I head over to Frank. “You order that part?”

“Yup.”

“Okay. Gonna get him set up at the motel, then head over to see Johnny.” Frank tries to hide his smirk. “Hey, it’s called being hospitable.”

“Not at all because he’s a looker?”

“Even if he is, it doesn’t mean anything.” Frank is more of a horndog than me, so his comment is laughable. “Mind the cash register for me until Mike shows for the night shift?”

“Will do.”

I lead the stranger to my truck. “The name’s Jack, and yours?”

He glances up at the sign, maybe putting together that I own the place. My dad ran Jack of All Trades for most of my life. “Uh, Aaron.”

“Hop in, Aaron.” I open my truck door, and he slides in the passenger side.

“Mae owns Inn the Doghouse and the Hydrant Motel, which is a bit cheaper, but I don’t expect you to have that problem.”

He nods absently. “She like dogs or something?”

“Bingo. Both places allow animals.” When he wrinkles his nose, I add, “Don’t worry, they’re well-maintained. She also runs a rescue located behind the inn.”

“Well, that’s admirable, I suppose.”

Either someone doesn’t like animals, or he’s used to cushier accommodations. I would bet my left arm on the latter. At least he seems to have that air about him. The expensive clothes and car are a dead giveaway.

We head toward the Santa Lucia mountains in silence as he takes in the view, which is really just a lot of trees and flora. When we drive through the center of town and pass by Honeycomb—our general store—and other small businesses operated by local shopkeepers, something we take pride in around here, I wonder what he’s thinking, though I’m not sure why. His visit is transitory. Had his car not needed work, he’d already be on his way home.

“Here’s the motel.” He hasn’t told me which he’d prefer, so I pull into the first on our route. Besides, he’s only in town for the night, so I figure cheaper is better. Still, the place has a charm all its own, and as I told him, it’s well-maintained. No peeling paint, musty rooms, or shoddy pool area.

“It’s not so bad.” His voice holds a hint of surprise.

“What did you expect?” I ask as I pull into a parking space.

“Not colorful, nicely decorated entrances,” he says, referring to the lively paint on the stonework and doorways. “Most motels I’ve stayed at were drab and basic.”

“Mae calls it whimsical. The whole town is like that.” I open my door to step out, and he follows suit.

“My mother would love this place,” he says as we near the office, and it’s the first hint of something personal I’ve gotten from him, not that I’m fishing for it.

“Well, look who the cat finally dragged in.” Mae heads around the desk and busses my cheek. “We might not have been right for each other in the romance department, but we’ve always been the best of friends. I miss you. You should visit more often.”

My face heats. Does she really need to go there, now, in front of a guest? It’s been years since we dated, and she’s happily married with kids.

Also, I’m not the one on a tight schedule, but still, I reply, “You know how it gets.”

“Of course. I’m only teasing you. Now that the busy season is over, we should do lunch sometime.”

We might not be a popular tourist attraction, but we still get travelers passing through in the summer months, mostly overflow from other popular locales.

“Sounds good.” I can feel Aaron watching us with interest. “Mae, this is Aaron. He needs a room while his car is being fixed.”

“Sure thing.” Mae gets him checked in while I squat to show her golden retriever some love. He’s always in the lobby and is especially adored by kids. It sounded like Aaron’s mom would appreciate the decor. Does she like animals too, or is she fond of rescuing them? If that’s the case, Mae’s businesses would definitely appeal.

Five minutes later, we walk out with his room key in hand.

“I’ll wait in the truck while you get situated in your room.” I point to the stairs leading to the second level. “Then we’ll get some food in you.”

What am I even doing? Treating him like he’s a guest of my house rather than the town. Suppose I have my parents to thank for teaching me how to be hospitable to visitors.

Aaron is only gone about ten minutes before he emerges dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. And if I thought the suit was flattering, Christ, those jeans are even better, hugging his lean hips. Okay, maybe Frank is right and Aaron’s attractiveness is fueling some of my so-called hospitality.

“All set?” I ask as he gets in the truck.

When he nods, I back away from the curb. Just as we’re leaving the lot, Mae steps out for a smoke, a habit she’s been trying to break.

“So, she’s your ex?” Aaron asks as we both wave.

“That’s right.”

“Why is that?” he blurts, then shakes his head. “Sorry, none of my business.”

“It’s all right.” Is it? Why am I suddenly chatty with this stranger while driving him all over creation? But I’m never one to mince words. “It was, uh…a few years ago, right before I officially came out.”

Aaron falls silent, so he either doesn’t like the topic of my sexuality or something else. It might also be the reason he keeps stealing glances my way. Suddenly, I regret offering him all these rides.

“The Witching Hour?” he asks as we pull into the parking lot of my brother’s bar. “So far, I have to agree with your quirky comment.”

I smirk. “At least Johnny didn’t paint it all the colors of the rainbow.”

“It wouldn’t fit the theme. The dark wood helps, even better if it were painted black. Is there a cauldron inside?”

“No.” I snicker, wondering what on earth he could be imagining. “It’s a phrase my mom would use on us when we got overtired and whiny as kids. Looks like it’s the witching hour .”

“The witching hour is also folklore about terrible things fated to happen or something like that.”

“You’d fit right into this town.” I chuckle as I exit the car. We’ve had some tragedies happen around here, but they had nothing to do with a curse. Though maybe I’m wrong, who knows. “You stay long enough, you’ll hear things.”

“True things?” he asks over the hood of the car.

“Eh, depends on who you ask.” I roll my eyes. “ Folklore , as you say.”

He follows me inside, and I try to see the bar from his perspective, with its wooden booths and four-seaters, a pool table, and darts.

“No sorcery in sight,” he says, and I chuckle.

My brother is busy serving customers, so he doesn’t notice us at first.

“Hey, Johnny,” I say, pulling up two barstools.

He cocks a brow. “Who’s your friend?”

“Car broke down, so I told him where to find some good food and drinks.”

“Damn straight.” Johnny smiles. Always the charmer. He never lets anything get him down. At least not publicly. “Johnny McCoy.”

“Nice to meet you.” They shake hands. “Aaron Edwards.”

We order beers and burgers as my brother and I shoot the shit for a few minutes. I can feel Aaron scrutinizing me again, and this time, it feels like more than curiosity. I wonder if it has to do with admitting my sexuality on the way here. I’m not dumb and have been around the block a few times in my thirty-seven years. If he’s interested, it’ll have to be up to him to let me know.

Once Johnny walks away to help another customer, our eyes meet again. His gaze lingers before traveling down to my mouth. Well, damn. If that wasn’t an appreciative glance, I don’t know what is.

I return the favor, and he clears his throat and looks away. “So, it’s just you and your brother?”

“Hell no. There’s my aunt Dina, who’s married to Uncle Chuck, my sister, June, and her son, Cain.”

His eyebrows rise. “So you grew up here?”

“Uh-huh.” I take a sip of my beer.

“And your parents?”

My stomach drops, and it takes me way too long to respond because he blurts, “Sorry.”

“No worries.” It was an innocent question. “My parents and brother-in-law—June’s husband—died in a boating accident six years ago.”

His hand flies to his mouth. “Fuck.”

Thankfully, our burgers are delivered right then, but I can’t shake the tightness in my chest. That year was the most awful in my life—in all our lives.

Aaron digs right in. “Damn, this is good.”

I nod because my mouth is full.

“How about you?” I ask. “Family?”

“Just me and my mom.”

Right then, his cell buzzes on the bar top. Aaron frowns at the message.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “My business partner is gonna have to take a meeting for me in the morning.”

“What kind of business?” I ask because I can’t help being curious as well.

“I’m in sales,” he replies, and before I can clarify what that means, he says, “Rocco and I started a business together straight out of college.”

“Must be nice working with a friend. But also tricky,” I say, and he nods. “Sort of like what it’s like for me and Frank. He’s my best friend, but also like part of the family.”

“Yeah, sometimes we walk a fine line, but communication helps.”

“Sure does.”

As more townsfolk arrive, a few greet us before finding seats, their gazes landing on Aaron, curiosity getting the best of them.

“Does everyone know each other in this town?”

When his thigh accidentally brushes against mine, my skin pebbles. “Pretty much.”

“And they’re okay…with you…?”

Ah, there it is.

I hitch a shoulder. “Don’t give a shit if they aren’t.”

He grins. “I like that.”

“But it can be a bit much, with everyone in your business, something you probably don’t have to deal with.”

“Not much, no. The anonymity of a bigger city can be nice.”

When his eyes meet mine, I see the heat in them, and my dick takes notice.

“On that note…” I push my plate away and wipe my mouth. “You let me know when you’re ready to head back.”

“Yeah, sure. I don’t want to keep you.”

“I don’t have any plans tonight.”

Our gazes latch again and hold. I have the urge to take his mouth right there in the bar. I haven’t been this interested in a hookup in a while. But I’m also nervous I’m reading him all wrong.

When his gaze travels down the front of me, he can’t make it clearer that he’s interested too. “Then I suppose now is a good time.”

There’s electric energy between us the entire way back to the motel and as I follow him to his room. The moment he shuts the door behind us, we’re on each other.

Our mouths meet in a frenzy, our hands are everywhere, and when he pushes me against the wall, I’m already hard.

I pull him against me, my hands traveling to his tight ass, hoping against hope that he wants me to stick my cock between these tempting cheeks.

I turn him so his back is against the wall and cage him in with my arms while I devour his mouth. He groans into the kiss, his hands gripping my shoulders as he ruts against me.

“I want your ass.” And just as he nods, I drop to my knees. “Wanna taste you first.”

“Oh shit. I’m gonna blow if you don’t hurry.”

“Tell me about it.” I tug open his jeans, his bulge prominent behind his boxer briefs.

I’m torn between wanting to swallow his come and waiting until I’m deep inside his ass.

I shove his jeans and underwear down, then burrow my nose in the patch of hair at his groin. Inhaling his scent, I move lower to rub a cheek against his furry sac. Fuck, it’s been too long, and he feels so good.

Aaron knots his fingers in my hair, and though I recently cut it shorter, it still gives him plenty of purchase. “Suck me already.”

I smile against his thigh, enjoying how on edge he sounds. “Getting there.”

I run my nose up the length of his shaft, then wrap my fist around the base, admiring how stiff and veiny his cock is. Sucking dick is one of my favorite things, and it feels nice to have the opportunity again.

Unwilling to waste any more time, I take Aaron to the back of my throat. He groans, his hand winding in my hair as I bob my head up and down his shaft. His skin is smooth, his taste salty, which makes sense given his travel predicament. I revel in it, taking my time to appreciate the manliness of him by running my hands up and down the back of his thighs, noting the lean muscle, which likely means he works out.

Each time his erection hits the back of my throat, I swallow around him, which makes him cry out and tremble. “I’m gonna lose my load before you get inside me.”

I reluctantly pull off, then help him remove his shoes, pants, and underwear, leaving them in a pile on the floor. When I finally stand, Aaron removes his shirt and then helps me strip out of my clothes.

He works my shaft with his fist—it flagged a bit while getting naked but is now at full mast again.

He watches closely as his hand works me, uncertainty in his gaze, and I remember how arrogant he seemed in the service station when he asked if we were trying to swindle him. The juxtaposition between then and now brings a stab of longing to find out more, even knowing that won’t happen. He’ll be on his way back to San Jose tomorrow, and I’ll never see him again.

As good as his hand feels, I need more of him. “Get on the bed.”

“Thank fuck.” I watch as he walks to his bag first and retrieves a condom and lube. I can’t help wondering if he had some fun at the wedding in Big Sur. I push that thought away, questioning why it even matters, and focus on the fact that having protection is always a good thing.

Aaron tosses the supplies on the mattress and lies back. I hover above him, taking in how fucking hot he is, my shaft growing stiffer.

Our mouths meet as I rock against him, and before long, we’re rutting, our cocks slotting together as we devour each other. Precome leaks between us, and I have enough sense to draw back and push to my knees.

Panting heavily, I grab the lube and slick my fingers. Aaron lifts his knees to his shoulders, and I lose my breath seeing him on display like this. A puckered pink hole that’s practically bare. I push a finger inside while Aaron rocks toward me.

“Fuck yes. More.”

Desire rockets through me at the sound of his voice, and I give him what he wants, thrusting two fingers inside, twisting and rubbing. He clenches his teeth, trying to bite back a moan, but it sounds so fucking erotic that my balls tighten, ready to explode.

I withdraw my fingers, then fumble with the condom, more than eager now.

As I slide on the condom and drizzle it with lube, Aaron turns over on all fours.

And holy shit, from this viewpoint, with his spine arched, his ass on display and his balls hanging down, he might be one of the most enticing men I’ve ever fucked. Well, I haven’t fucked him yet, and if I keep this up, I might come before I get the opportunity.

I scoot closer and angle my dick between his cheeks. I press inside slowly, stars floating in front of my eyes because he’s so tight, so warm as he fits around my cock like a glove.

“Oh God, yes,” he says. “Needed this.”

I needed this too. Instead of telling him that, I tighten my hold on his hip. One final press, and I’m all the way inside. Aaron is too eager, pressing back against me and fucking himself on my cock before I even have time to take in the sensation.

This is only a hookup, I remind myself. As much as I wish I could take my time, that’s not what this is about. We’re both single, horny guys. I start moving, matching his thrusts and enjoying every minute. He lifts up, and his hand starts moving as he strokes himself.

Our dual panting fills the room as Aaron pleads for me to pound him harder. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Tell me about it.”

I can feel him tightening around me, and then he’s calling out, his come spurting out of his dick and onto the sheets. His hole spasms, milking my orgasm out of me. My entire body feels hot as I growl and my balls empty inside the rubber.

My head against his shoulder blades, I try to get my bearings. “Fucking hell, so good.”

“God yeah.”

I pull out, and Aaron flops onto his back, breathing heavily. His cock is softening against his stomach as I get rid of the condom in the wastebasket near the desk.

I’m a bit wrecked and want so badly to lie beside him, but I also know that’s not a good idea.

The room grows silent, and I lean forward to peck his lips. “Thanks for a good fuck.”

“See you in the morning,” he slurs as his eyes shut.

I don’t respond because I don’t plan on it. I get dressed, then let myself out.