Love in the Dark

by 12 Book Boxed Set (epub)

  He dropped his head back, closed his eyes, and willed his partially hard cock to wilt instead of going full erection. It was a constant struggle around Trevon and Devra, who’d taken to hanging out with them during the afternoons after she’d spent a few hours cleaning, working on reviving the cottage’s garden, and cooking them some of the most delicious lunches he’d ever had.

  Sorry, Ms. Brown.

  In fact, his stomach growled then as he smelled spicy, foreign food. When he opened his eyes, Devra was there, holding a tray at least half as big as herself, grinning down at him. “Asleep on the job? Don’t worry, I won’t tell your worker.”

  Quinn scrambled to his feet, embarrassed both at being busted daydreaming about their sweet asses and for looking like a slacker. He took the tray from her and carried it to a table in the break room. “Just needed a minute.”

  “You’re the boss. I’m sure you could go take a half-hour nap on your lunch break if you need. Trevon and I can handle stuff here. Gavyn said he’d be around later in case you’d feel better if we were supervised.” She looked down at the spread she’d prepared and fiddled with the dishes, straightening things for no reason.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you two here.” Oddly, that was the truth. Though he’d only known them a few days, they already felt like part of the Hot Rides family. Nothing they’d shown him yet had given him even a moment to pause and consider their dependability. “It’s more like… Well, honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if it wasn’t for Hot Rides and working here.”

  Right then, the phone rang. Quinn jogged over to the office, on the other side of the wall from the break room, and answered it. He rummaged around Gavyn’s desk until he retrieved the appointment book and found an empty slot that worked for the customer who wanted to put fancy new tires on his bike. When he hung up, Devra was watching him thoughtfully.

  “You know, you might as well let me help with that stuff,” she said as he hung up the phone. “I spend a lot of time hanging out here. I think I can manage to take calls and write down some messages when you’re working on a motorcycle so that you don’t have to pull double duty.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Quinn was happy enough to have Trevon taking half the workload in the shop. It really did leave him some time to relax. Time to realize how much he’d been overdoing it lately.

  “It’d be nice to be useful for once.” Devra’s smile didn’t quite make it past her mouth. The sad twist of her burgundy lips made Quinn want to reach out and hug her, except he didn’t know what Trevon would think of that. “You’ve been so generous with us. I’d like to give back in some way if I’m able.”

  What would it hurt? It wasn’t a terrible idea. Amber and her sister, Nola, took care of some administrative stuff when they could, but that wasn’t their primary focus.

  Quinn made a snap decision. “I’m willing to pay you for your time. No one’s asking you to work for free.”

  “Thank you, but…” Devra glanced over at Trevon, who didn’t appear to be listening to their conversation. “I can’t accept that.”

  “Of course you can.” Quinn tried to ignore their weird dynamic. Or at least to treat them as individuals instead of a unit. They were both fascinating to him in their own ways. Devra deserved a shot at least as much as Trevon had. Maybe more now that he’d gotten to know her a bit. She was strong, independent, and yet reserved, as if afraid to overstep.

  She’d taken initiative and he’d much rather nurture that than squash it.

  “No. Legally, I can’t.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not a US citizen. I don’t even have my green card yet. We haven’t been married that long and once I was eligible to apply, we didn’t have the money to submit my paperwork. Besides, it can take a while to process…”

  Devra sighed. “So yeah, I’m kind of useless. Can’t drive, can’t work, can’t vote. Can’t do much of anything. Sometimes I feel like Trevon’s child more than his wife, to be honest. We’ve been struggling and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m just another burden for him, really. I even got turned away as a volunteer for the soup kitchen downtown because of the background check. So I guess you’ll have to put up with my cooking instead.”

  “I love your food.” Quinn reached out and took her hand. He held it for far too brief a moment, caressing her soft, warm skin before letting it go. He should bite his tongue, but instead he said, “I didn’t realize. Sorry. So where are you from?”

  He had to know where she’d gotten that seductive accent that lent a bit of a roll to her R’s. It drove him wild, and made her seem even more different than the Midwestern women he’d known before. To him, that was a plus.

  “Yemen.” She rocked back when she said it, almost as if the memory of her home made her flinch. “It’s a beautiful country, but it’s not…safe…for me right now. My father sent me here with a one-way plane ticket.”

  “So you’re a refugee.” Quinn paused, setting the appointment book down next to the tray of dishes she’d lovingly prepared for Trevon…and for him.

  He wasn’t the greatest at geography, but he knew she was from somewhere in the Middle East. That explained her gorgeous skin and dark, wavy hair. In a flash, he imagined her wearing more traditional clothing, her eyes outlined heavily, and her hair peeking out from beneath a lace head wrap. He cleared his throat as he pictured how stunning she would be in her native environment and how beautifully she’d adapted to his. He admired her flexibility and the courage it must have taken to adjust to an entirely new world under difficult circumstances.

  Devra wrung her hands as if she was as nervous talking to him about this as he was about prying or learning something that might take his admiration to someplace deeper. Someplace strictly off limits. “I was supposed to go to college here. But my father disappeared and so did the funds in our bank account. I heard from one of my cousins that…he was killed along with most everyone else in our town who spoke up against the injustices that are being committed there.”

  “Jesus, Devra. I’m so sorry. That’s…sick.” Quinn reined in his outrage and disgust lest she think it was aimed at her and a situation out of her control. But he couldn’t help it—he hugged her although he knew too well it wouldn’t do much to soothe the hurt.

  “It is.” Her voice was monotone, as if she had accepted it by now, or maybe as if she was still in shock and numb to the horror of it all. “I had to drop out. I lost my work-study position at…um…the place where I met Trevon. I was stranded. Utterly alone. He took me in and made us family. I owe Trevon everything. He saved my life.”

  “I’m sure he would do it a million times over for the woman he loves.” Quinn knew he sure as hell would. No one deserved to live in fear like that. No one deserved to be cast aside instead of being welcomed with open arms.

  Devra winced and turned away. The heavy conversation must have been too much for her.

  Just then, the phone rang again. She lunged for it without asking this time. Quinn wouldn’t have had the heart to tell her not to anyway. Not after what she’d shared. He’d felt useless once, too, until his brother and Hot Rods—then Hot Rides—had given him a purpose.

  Her voice was loud and clear when she said, “Hot Rides Garage. How can I help you?”

  Trevon whipped his gaze to Devra. Then to Quinn, who shrugged.

  He understood what it was like to rely on the kindness of strangers. Hell, he’d been all alone, thrust into a foreign setting, after his brother had rescued him from their mother’s home and the abuse he’d suffered at her hands. It paled in comparison to Devra’s situation, but he had a taste of what she must have experienced. If he hadn’t been allowed to chip in at Hot Rods, he probably would have gone crazy or run away before they’d become family in the truest sense of the word. He had no desire to be a pity case. A proud woman like her would feel the same.

  If answering a dumb phone call was what it took to make Devra feel like she belonged and had some worth, who the fuck was he to
tell her not to do it?

  “Yes, sir. Wednesday at 3PM would be fine. We’ll see you then.” Devra jotted down a note in the planner, then hung up the phone.

  Her smile nearly blinded Quinn. Straight, white teeth stood out against her rouged mouth and the color infusing her cheeks for the first time since he’d met her. So he figured he’d do one better and show her how much he enjoyed her meals as well.

  “Trevon, you better get your ass in here for lunch before I eat yours, too.” Quinn froze when Devra covered her mouth with her hand. She looked away, blushing.

  Well, he hadn’t meant it like that, but… Yeah, that, too.

  “One minute, I’m cleaning up.” Trevon hustled, joining them in less than half that time.

  Meanwhile, Quinn had already heaped his plate with a helping of each dish Devra had whipped up. “So, what is it I’m eating here? I like this orange stuff you made yesterday, too.”

  Devra laughed, making Trevon pause. He grinned at her, then flashed Quinn a grateful smile. Apparently he liked it when Quinn made his wife happy. Good. Because Quinn thought it might be his new favorite pastime.

  As he stuffed his face, Devra told him the names of each food and its ingredients. Hummus, shafoot, falafel, and lamb mandi. He was stuffed by the time he’d eaten half of what he’d taken. That didn’t stop him from finishing every last bit and licking his fingers at the end.

  He looked up to find both Devra and Trevon staring at him. “What?”

  Hell, he hadn’t even belched.

  Trevon cleared his throat and shook his head. Devra beamed. She asked, “You liked it that much?”

  “Uh huh.” He grinned a little self-consciously.

  “Trevon tells me it’s good, but I thought he might be just being nice. That’s how he is.” Devra smiled shyly. “I was studying to be a chef and taking business classes before…you know.”

  Trevon put his hand on her knee and squeezed.

  “My dream was that someday I could open a restaurant with a traditional menu so I could introduce more people to our food.” She sighed and shook herself, then stood to clear the dishes.

  “Wait…why was?” Quinn asked.

  “We’re so far from making that possible. For now, we need to concentrate on getting by.” Devra reached out and took his dirty plate and crumpled napkin. “Because of you, we’re in a much better place than we were a week ago. I can imagine, someday, things could be different than they have been lately. So thank you, Quinn. Thank you.”

  Trevon didn’t object when his wife circled the table and smothered Quinn in a hug.

  It startled him so much that he wasn’t sure if he should hug her back or pretend like her embrace hadn’t touched him so much deeper than his chest and back. He felt her energy radiate straight to his soul. For the first time in forever, it felt like he was doing something right.

  Like he was where he was supposed to be and doing shit that really mattered.

  They might not know it, but Trevon and Devra were as good for him as he was for them.

  He made a mental note to pick up a bunch of seeds on his next trip to the hardware store. Things that Devra had listed as her main ingredients—zucchini, garlic, eggplant, and tomatoes—to start. It was the least he could do if he planned to eat her food every chance he got.

  Plus, it would be interesting to see what they could grow together.

  9

  “That was my last appointment for the day.” Quinn sank to the floor next to where Trevon was cleaning his tools. Though Trevon tried not to stare, he couldn’t help taking a quick scan and absorbing every detail about Quinn. The guy rested his back against the metal cabinets and draped his tattooed arms over his bent knees while he kept his boots planted on the concrete. His muscles were casually on display. He was the very definition of masculinity.

  “I’m finished, too.” It was just the two of them holding down the garage. Since Trevon had come on board, Gavyn had been taking the opportunity to travel to conventions where they could rack up some more work from collectors and enthusiasts.

  Stuff more interesting than routine maintenance. Knowing they had more varied and specialized work coming in was exciting for Trevon, too. Working here would definitely boost his resume.

  “You know my friends are probably grilling your poor wife right now.” Quinn picked at his jeans. Though he said it casually, Trevon could tell he was kind of worried. About what?

  Devra had gone with some of the Hot Rods ladies to get a manicure or a massage or some other spa shit. Whatever girls did at those fancy places. Devra had originally turned down their offer, since they didn’t have the cash for those kind of luxuries, but the women had refused to take no for an answer. A gorgeous, no-nonsense lady named Sally had rolled up in a neon-pink convertible classic Mustang and convinced Devra by explaining they were getting freebies in exchange for reviews of a new establishment.

  Quinn had let it slip later that Sally had fudged the truth a bit. He’d promised that the women were happy to chip in so that Devra could join them, especially since they were truly getting a hefty discount for being guinea pigs. Trevon would ordinarily have objected, except Devra deserved to be pampered. If he couldn’t do it for her, he would accept help to provide the things she needed. Ego be damned.

  “She can hold her own.” Trevon grinned, thinking of his petite yet fierce wife. “She might be soft spoken, but she’s tough. Besides, it would be awesome for her to have her own friends to hang out with instead of being stuck with me all the damn time. I’m not always the best company.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve enjoyed my time at the shop a lot more since you arrived. Having someone to talk to makes the days go by a lot faster.” Quinn didn’t look at Trevon when he admitted it.

  The declaration alone made Trevon’s heart race and his palms sweat. He was in serious trouble. The more time he spent with Quinn, the more he realized that the guy was every bit as generous, compassionate, and sexy as he’d first appeared.

  “You’re a hell of a lot better to deal with than Vance,” Trevon managed.

  Quinn cracked up at that. “God, I hope so. That guy is such a dick.”

  Trevon shrugged. “I don’t blame him for giving me the boot. Anyway, it turned out for the best.”

  He had finished wiping grease from his fingers and was mid-stretch when he noticed Quinn staring at the flexing muscles of his chest and abdomen. Maybe he should have kept his shirt on despite the heat of the waxing summer. Or maybe that odd look on his face had something to do with what he was about to say and not Trevon’s body being on display.

  “Why don’t you go get your bike and bring it in here? I’ve been thinking…if you want, we could tinker around with it when it’s slow or after hours,” Quinn suggested. The way he said it made Trevon sure it wasn’t as offhanded a comment as he’d like Trevon to think.

  “First, is it ever slow here?” Trevon wondered. Truth was, there was enough work for two additional mechanics and they turned down nearly as much business as they could accept. The waitlist for even routine maintenance stretched out for weeks.

  Gavyn was throwing money away by not staffing this place appropriately. There was plenty of room for more workstations. So why were they so shorthanded?

  “Not lately.” Quinn puffed up. “Hot Rides is gaining a reputation good enough that people bring their motorcycles from up to two states away for us to modify them. Between you and me, I think Gavyn has been a little hesitant to expand because he’s afraid of the pressure. When we were a small shop, it was easy to manage and success was guaranteed. Taking on more means risking more. And for him that’s a lot to handle…”

  Quinn scrubbed his hand over his mouth as if he was debating revealing more.

  “What?” Trevon was curious sure, but he felt like maybe he could help them. And the thought of being useful instead of a problem for once…well, that was damn attractive.

  “Gavyn’s a recovering alcoholic. Stress could be a trigger for him falling into
bad habits. He knows it and so do we.” Quinn met Trevon’s gaze then, as if daring him to think badly of the shop’s owner. If anything, though, it raised his esteem. To know that Gavyn had overcome his struggles…it was damn impressive. Maybe someday Trevon would be able to say the same. Although his issues didn’t stem from substance abuse, they often seemed insurmountable. All they could do, any of them, was try their best.

  “I know. He told me when I asked him to share a beer with me on the deck the other night.” Trevon admitted to himself that he’d been hurt by the guy’s emphatic rejection until he’d explained why he’d declined. It had also made Trevon feel like less of an outcast to know that even these men, whom he looked up to already, had problems. Life wasn’t easy for any of them. If they could overcome some pretty steep hurdles, so could he.

  “Oh. Yep.” Quinn smiled wryly. “Don’t take this personally, but I’m so glad he did. It’s been a while now, maybe five years, even still…”

  “I won’t make that mistake again. In fact, I won’t bring anymore booze to the house.” Trevon didn’t mind. He’d really only bought that six pack in the hopes of bonding with the other guys.

  “Probably for the best. My brother, Roman, and Gavyn met in rehab. I don’t drink at all, since I’ve got shit genes for it. Saw what it did to Roman and my mom. That was plenty for me. Anyway, I think for a while Gavyn was making sure he had everything under control, you know? The fact that he’s willing to take these next steps now makes me really happy and nervous, too. You showed up at the perfect time.”

  “You have no idea.” Trevon released a deep breath. Each day that he worked at Hot Rides and nothing imploded, he relaxed some. He was still amped up enough to realize how close he’d been to his limit when he’d met Quinn. Hearing more about these guys and learning they had their own vulnerabilities made him more willing to share his own. “That tent and the ratty sleeping bags we have aren’t only for fun. It’s not so bad this time of year, but last winter sucked. I don’t want Devra to have to go through that again. Ever.”