Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

“ W hy are you calling me? You literally just left the diner.”

Tomas snorted. “Is that any way to greet your older brother when he calls?”

“It is when I saw him five minutes ago,” Jill sassed him.

He held back his laugh after years of practice, not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she was the funny one. “I forgot to ask you something. That’s obviously why I’m calling.”

“And here I thought it was because you remembered that you forgot to thank me for the tamales.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Jill. They were delicious.”

Mason thought so too.

He didn’t add that last part, but the reminder of the meal he’d shared with the gorgeous boy occupying a room in his clubhouse—and too much of his mental capacity—for the last few weeks made him recall the way Mason’s eyes had lit up as he’d scarfed down four out of six of them. He’d gushed out praise the entire time, going on and on about how delicious and spicy they were. Tomas had enjoyed watching him more than anything else, which had surprised him. His sister’s tamales oaxaque?os were delicious, the banana leaves instead of corn husks keeping them from getting as dry when reheated.

The fact he’d been more fascinated with Mason should have probably been concerning, but after finding Mason so dejected and then hearing him say Tomas’s smile made things a little better, he just couldn’t find it in him.

He was already so deep, and he hadn’t even kissed the boy yet.

Or met his other half.

“You’re welcome,” his sister said cheerfully. “Now, what did you forget to ask me?”

“Did Ollie invite you to Tank’s birthday party tonight?”

“He sure did. I told him I would bring some food since he said it wasn’t a gift sort of party.”

Tomas sighed. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea that you come… Did he at least tell you that it was an adults-only party?”

“Yes, hermano, he made that very clear,” Jill said, laughing. “Considering the things you’ve told me about the parties going on at your clubhouse—and all the rumors I hear at the diner—David and I only plan to stay for maybe an hour. Then we’ll head out before anything too crazy starts to happen.”

Knowing Ollie, there was no guarantee of that, but Tomas accepted it.

When the club had first started having their BDSM education classes and then parties, he’d been reluctant to let his sister and her husband know. He wasn’t ashamed of his interests, and they already knew he was poly, so it wasn’t like one more revelation would come as a shock, but the hedonistic intimacy of the parties made it uncomfortable for him to imagine his sister in the same environment.

No matter how old she got—or how much she teased him by saying she and David had a very healthy sex life—he just couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of it. But he’d still told her, mostly for the very reason she’d just said.

He’d known word would get out in the community since they were inviting people from outside the club to come to the parties. The last thing he’d wanted was for her to find out from someone else. Luckily, she’d told him she and David had no interest in attending any classes or parties like that, and so it had been a nonstarter.

Unlike what had happened to his best friend, Demarcus.

D’s sister, Cynthia, was the club’s lawyer, and her partner, Tay, worked at the tattoo shop run by their club’s Sergeant-At-Arms, Viper. Tay and Cynthia had been together for quite a while, despite D wanting to keep the club life away from his sister. He’d been furious when Tomas had hired Cyn, wanting someone he could trust and who was like family to him, to protect the club legally.

But D had nearly gone ballistic the first time Cyn and Tay had shown up to one of his classes. Luckily, D’s friend Zachary, who’d been helping with the education classes, had stepped in and reminded Houston that BDSM was for everyone, then told him that if he had a problem with that, he needed to go kick rocks.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew,” Tomas said. “Things tend to get a little wild around there nowadays whenever there’s more than a half dozen people.”

“And here I thought things just got wild when Ollie was around,” Jill said, a smile clear in her voice.

“That’s true,” Tomas grumbled, though really, he didn’t mind Ollie and his spiritedness, even if it did interrupt his day more often than not. “But even without him there, there tends to be a lot of?—”

“Freaky sex stuff?” Jill snickered.

He rolled his eyes, slowing as he saw a car pulled over on the side of the road ahead. “So mature.”

“Not as mature as you, big brother.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She loved to tease him about being ten years older than her.

Lately though, the jokes hadn’t been hitting quite as humorously as they had in the past. He was starting to feel his age in a way he hadn’t before. When he’d slid past forty-five and still not been in a long-term relationship—or even seeming to make progress on one—it had hit him hard, making him wonder ever since if it just wasn’t in the cards for him.

He’d always have his brothers and sisters of the Devil’s Hands. Not to mention Jill and her family and his mom, who’d moved out to Arizona a few years back, tired of the Michigan winters, but who he worried nonstop about being all alone thousands of miles away.

“Listen, I gotta let you go. Looks like someone’s having car trouble.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she said, sobering quickly. “Be safe, but see if you can help. Maybe get that garage of yours finished one of these days too.”

“From your lips to Remi’s ears.”

She laughed, told him she loved him, and then hung up. He tossed his phone onto the seat next to him and tugged at the tie strangling him.

He slowed his truck and pulled over to the right side, putting his hazards on. The car in front of him was at least ten years old, though it didn’t look to be in too terrible of condition other than the flat tire. The car’s driver was leaning his head out the window, craning back to look at him.

He had warm brown skin, a dark gray knit hat pulled down low over his ears, and a fierce scowl on his handsome face. He looked like he was maybe in his mid to late twenties, with sharp cheekbones and a strong chin.

Tomas pulled his tie off completely and threw it into the seat next to him, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt. He grabbed his leather jacket and stepped out of his truck, pulling it on over his white button-up. He’d worn a suit to the diner so he would look like a well-respected member of the community while the head of the county health department had redone their inspection. Tomas wasn’t so sure it was the tie that had convinced the guy not to fuck around with them again or if it was Tomas staring him down the entire time, arms crossed over his wide chest.

But all he’d dinged them for was a couple of small things instead of the major shit the last person had made up. It wasn’t the first time someone in the community had gone after one of the club’s businesses, though most people didn’t know that his sister’s diner was among those that the club helped and owned a part of. Members frequented it often enough that it probably had been a pretty easy guess, especially if people knew where to dig up the paperwork.

Tomas had been fending off attacks against the club since he’d started the chapter, but things had increased in the last year. A new mayor had been elected last fall, along with a hard-ass sheriff. The two had made no secret of their distaste for the motorcycle club in their midst, the sheriff running on a campaign of cleaning up the county of the degenerates putting their families at risk.

Fearmongering bullshit was what it was, but it had been effective enough to boot the former sheriff out of the job, and the new guy, Keith Winters, had been gunning for them ever since.

Tomas strode toward the car, the hard crust on top of the snow crunching beneath his boots.

The guy lifted his eyes to Tomas’s face, a frown tugging at his lips. “I’m fine. I’m just waiting for a tow.”

Nodding, Tomas eyed the flat. “You don’t have a spare?”

The guy shook his head. “Would I be just sitting here if I did?”

Snorting, Tomas studied the car for another second. “Can you pop the trunk for me?”

“No,” the guy said, looking at Tomas like he was insane. “Listen, man, I don’t know if this is some sort of Good Samaritan complex or if you plan on shoving me in that trunk and taking me back to your lair to murder me, but I said I’m fine. You don’t have to stick around.”

Tomas laughed—like, honest to god laughed. The mouth on this boy. “I just wanted to check and see if you had a spare in the trunk.”

“Don’t you think I would have noticed?” he said as he reached down and yanked on the lever to pop open the trunk. He shoved the door open so fast it nearly clipped Tomas as he jumped out of the way, and then he slammed it shut and stalked to the back of the car. “Do you think I’m some sort of idiot that I can’t see what’s in my own trunk?”

He was wearing the knit hat, but he hadn’t grabbed his coat when he jumped out of his car in a huff, and Tomas got lost for a second, staring at those well-built shoulders perfectly encased in a thin, long-sleeved shirt, long legs, and an ass that filled out his jeans like it was a gift from god. While Tomas was busy drooling over the angry man, he gripped the edge of the trunk and threw it open.

He disappeared behind it, and as Tomas reached the back of the car, the guy shoved a heavy suitcase into Tomas’s chest. He grabbed at it, making sure it didn’t hit the ground and get covered in dirty snow, and then the boy waved at the trunk. It still had some stuff in it, but without the huge suitcase, it was mostly empty.

“Do you see a damn tire? Or a jack? Because a spare tire in and of itself wouldn’t be that useful, would it? I might not be an expert on changing them, but even I know I can’t hold a car up with one hand and change the flat out with my other.”

Tomas ran his tongue over his top teeth, letting his gaze roam over the grumpy boy once more, this time from the front, which meant the guy actually saw it. He didn’t look flattered though. If anything, it pissed him off even more.

Why was that so hot to Tomas?

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Tomas said slowly, unable to stop his filthy mind from imagining all the fun ways he could work the aggression out of the young man.

“Oh, please, help yourself,” he said sarcastically, but he’d take it.

Tomas held out the suitcase with one hand, and that got the boy’s attention, his eyes widening briefly and running up the length of Tomas’s arm, seeming to take note of the size of him for the first time.

Clearing his throat, he took the suitcase from Tomas with both hands and stepped out of the way. Tomas carefully shuffled some of the other things—including a pair of running shoes, what was probably a toiletry bag, and a bundle of reusable grocery bags—out of his way, and then he popped open the bottom of the trunk to reveal the compartment beneath, finding a spare tire and a jack.

The suitcase smashed to the ground behind him, and the guy stumbled forward, meeting Tomas next to the open truck. “Son of a fucking bitch,” he breathed out, shaking his head. “How in the hell did you know that was there? I’ve owned this car for seven years, and I had no idea.”

Tomas smiled at him and shrugged. “I know a thing or two about cars. It’s no big deal. Why don’t you get back inside your car where it’s warm, and I’ll get it changed out for you out in no time.”

Shaking off his shock, he turned to Tomas and planted his hands on his hips. “What makes you think I can’t change it myself?”

“I didn’t say that,” Tomas said, holding his eyes. They were dark, almost black, but full of life. This boy wasn’t playing at being annoyed. He was, but he wasn’t just annoyed at Tomas’s insistence on helping. The quick glances to his shoulders and thighs let him know he was also annoyed that he was attracted to Tomas.

“Well, you implied it.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” he said, his own temper flaring. “You’re standing out here without a jacket in the middle of February. You want do it? That’s fine. But you’re gonna grab a coat and gloves, and I’m going to help you so we can both get out of the cold faster.”

He swallowed thickly, staring up at Tomas with an expression he couldn’t read. Finally, he said, “You shouldn’t just boss people around. It’s rude.”

It was not at all what he was expecting the guy to say, and it gave him pause. “My sister would agree with you,” he said slowly, “but it’s a hazard of my occupation. You get used to being the boss.”

“Well, you should listen to your sister. It sounds like she’s smarter than you. And maybe learn to turn that trait off when you’re not at work.”

Sounds like she’s smarter than you. Shit, he loved the mouth on this boy.

“Are we doing this together, or are you going to let me do it myself?” Tomas said, not rising to the bait.

“Together. I don’t trust you not to tamper with the new one, then follow me into field and?—”

“Drag you back to my lair and kill you,” Tomas finished for him.

“Yes, exactly.”

“Let’s get to work, then. I’ve got someplace I’ve gotta be.”

With one more wary look, the guy darted back to the front of the car, opening the driver’s-side door and leaning in. Tomas watched, running his teeth over his bottom lip as he unabashedly stared at the way he stuck his ass out in the air. He didn’t bother disguising the fact that he was looking, so when the guy climbed back out of his car, thick parka in hand, he caught Tomas red-handed.

He huffed, pulling on his coat with jerky motions, and then stomped back over toward him. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it was rude to stare at someone?”

Tomas pretended to think about it as he pulled out the spare tire and jack. “You know, I don’t think she did, but she did teach me to show appreciation for beautiful things.”

The guy stumbled, catching himself on the side of the car and jerking his head up to stare at Tomas for a long moment. There was no way no one had called him beautiful before. With his bone structure, long legs, and plump ass, it was impossible. So he wasn’t sure why it surprised him so much. Instead of pushing his luck to try and find out, Tomas got to work.

Even though it was apparent very quickly the guy had no idea how to change a tire, Tomas didn’t give him a hard time about it. He patiently explained each thing he did just in case he needed to know for in the future.

When they were finished, he stored the jack and the flat in the compartment in the trunk and then hefted the suitcase back inside after brushing off as much snow as he could so it wouldn’t get everything else inside wet.

He closed the trunk, gave it a pat, and then turned and found the guy watching him, that same strange expression from earlier on his face.

“You’re all set,” Tomas said. “But spares aren’t meant to be driven on for long, so make sure you get a new one.”

Whatever emotion the guy had been feeling, he shook it off and rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you, Dad. I know that.”

Tomas cocked his head and then moved toward him, slowly, just in case the guy really was scared Tomas would murder him. He backed him right up against his car and planted his hands on either side of his body. They weren’t touching anywhere, but he knew he had to feel caged in. Tomas was bigger, taller, stronger, but he didn’t tell him to back off. Didn’t shove at Tomas’s chest. Didn’t lash out with angry words. His chest moved a little faster as he stared into Tomas’s eyes though.

He was probably only three or four inches shorter, but this close, it felt like more, like he was towering over the boy. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to say thank you?”

He knew immediately the words were a mistake. The young man flinched, breaking their eye contact.

“Hey,” he said softly, pressing the side of one knuckle against his chin to urge him to lift his face. The beautiful boy sucked in a breath and met his eyes again. There was a new wariness there that hadn’t been before, and Tomas silently cursed himself.

“Thank you,” he said, a dullness in his voice Tomas didn’t like.

“You’re welcome, gatito.”

He almost asked what his name was and if he was from around there or just driving through. He could request his number, maybe see if he was interested in going on a date to scold him some more.

But in the end, he didn’t ask anything. He held his tongue, letting the moment between them surge with tension and then ease back down as neither one made a move to close the distance between them.

Shit was already complicated enough in his life. Mason hadn’t told him when—or if—Vinnie was coming back to Michigan, so the chemistry between them was stuck in a holding pattern. It didn’t feel right to try and drag this boy into the middle of things, even with his sharp little claws.

He should probably back off from Mason too, considering he didn’t know what was happening with his maybe ex, even if he’d implied they’d be open to a third in their relationship. Keeping space between them until he moved out of the clubhouse would be the smart play, but he couldn’t forget the way Mason had looked, sitting on the steps, hungry but too tired to face his friends hanging out fifty feet away from him.

Smart or not, he didn’t seem to have it in him to walk away, and as fascinated as he was with this boy’s mouth and attitude—and as much as he wanted to see if he’d push back or immediately cave under Tomas’s firm hand—it wasn’t meant to be.

“I gotta go,” he said softly, his voice a little brusque.

“Okay,” he said softly, all the sharpness from before having melted away.

“Remember what I said about getting a new tire.”

Some of the brattiness came back, and he rolled his eyes at Tomas, but there was a little twitch in the corner of his mouth. “I will.”

“Take care of yourself, gatito.”

He turned and walked away, wondering if he was making a mistake.

Because it sure fucking felt like it.