Acceptance

by Grace R. Duncan

  Chad turned to Quincy. “Do you have a weapon—other than your claws—with you?”

  Quincy nodded and got up, then hurried down the hall. A moment later he returned holding a handgun. “SIG Sauer P250,” Quincy said, checking the safety, then handing it to Chad.

  Chad checked it over, including the magazine, then handed it back. “I carry a Beretta. Jamie prefers a Glock. He hasn’t spent a lot of time with one, but he’s a pretty damned decent shot when he trusts his instincts.”

  Jamie blushed.

  “Anyway, the three of us will be armed, so Miles, with any luck, you can keep to your healing. I’m really hoping it won’t be necessary.” He took a breath. “Jamie and I will wait in the cafe across the street, then. We’ll get the call set up before you’re seated. All four of us will be listening. I’m going to record everything on this.” He held up an identical phone to the one he’d tossed Quincy.

  “Do you really think all this is necessary?” Quincy asked, frowning.

  “My instincts say something bigger than family issues is going on here. And if I trust them, then we’re going to want all the details we can get. Aside from not avoiding skunks, I’ve been pretty damned good at trusting my instincts.”

  Quincy burst out laughing. “Skunks?”

  Miles snickered. “Still?”

  Jamie nodded, grinning. “He keeps chasing them in wolf form.”

  “Damn things just look like big squirrels to my wolf.”

  Quincy grinned. “Still a big pup, huh?”

  Chad shrugged. “I’ll learn. I’m still adjusting to trusting my other senses more.”

  Quincy nodded. “That takes time. Especially if you’ve been human for a long time. You’re used to trusting your sight.”

  “Exactly. See?” Chad said, elbowing Jamie. “He gets it.”

  Jamie grinned and kissed Chad’s cheek. “I do too, but I’m your mate. If I didn’t give you shit….”

  “I’d wonder what was wrong with you,” Chad finished for him, chuckling. He cleared his throat. “Okay, so, yes. I think it would be wise to record it. It may be nothing, but there’s a chance things could get emotional and you might miss a detail one of us might pick up on.”

  Quincy sighed but nodded. Frustration hit Miles over their bond, and he kissed Quincy’s temple. “That’s true. And if you tell anyone, anywhere, ever, that I got emotional—”

  Chad held up a hand. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Quincy narrowed his eyes a moment, then nodded. “Fine.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m not sure if I want this to be my father or if I want him to not be involved. Because if he’s not—”

  “Things could get really ugly,” Chad said, nodding. “Yeah. It would be nice if this time my instincts weren’t right.”

  “But that’s not likely,” Quincy said, shaking his head.

  Miles kissed him, doing his best to soothe him as much as he could, sending calm over their bond. Quincy sat a little tighter against Miles, and Miles smiled when he felt the gratitude coming back.

  “Is there anything else we need to worry about?” Miles asked, still looking at the map.

  Chad shook his head. “I don’t think so. As dumb as the Three Ds are, I doubt they’ll try anything in the middle of Manhattan—again as long as we avoid alleys.”

  “All right.” Quincy sighed and checked the time. “Okay, we’ve got a little while, then. Let’s make sure everything’s charged and ready.”

  When Miles and Quincy got into the bedroom to get ready, Quincy flopped down on the bed, rubbing his face again. “I am so sick of this. I never wanted to get into this cloak-and-dagger stuff. I mean, yeah, I’m pretty damned sneaky when I get the information I need or fix things I need to fix. But… that’s not the same, you know? I never wanted to fight with my father like this. I just wanted to be left alone.”

  “Well, not too alone, I hope,” Miles said, sitting next to him.

  Quincy moved his hands and looked up. He pulled the tie out of Miles’s hair and played a little with the long, thick red locks. “Before all this, I would have fought you. I don’t think I’d have accepted you nearly as quickly. But now… there’s just too much shit. I don’t have the energy to fight you and the rest. I’m glad I didn’t.”

  Miles kissed his forehead, closing his eyes briefly to savor the sweet scent his mate had. “I’m glad you didn’t too. I’d understand, though, how it would have gone before. Hell, I’m pretty sure I might have fought it more. You know I’m bi, right?”

  Quincy nodded. “You said something about it in passing a while back.”

  “So I was all set to accept a male or female mate. To find out not only are we not the only shifters in the world, but my mate is a cat?” He chuckled.

  Quincy snickered. “Yeah, no doubt.”

  “So, I think we’d both have had a harder time, but all this other stuff just showed us how important we are, how ridiculous it is to fight what’s between us.” Miles tilted his head, brushing some of Quincy’s hair back. “Thankfully we’ve recognized that and we’re together.” He glanced at the clock and grinned. “You know, I think there’s just enough time for something.”

  Quincy raised his eyebrows as Miles slid off the bed and moved in front of him.

  Miles popped the button on Quincy’s jeans, then tugged the zipper. He pulled Quincy’s cock out, licking his lips. “Yeah, just enough time for an afternoon snack,” he said, then swallowed Quincy in one move.

  IT SEEMED the blowjob had done what Miles had intended: Quincy looked a lot more relaxed after. He’d tried to return the favor, but Miles had refused. On the way to the shower, he had finally confessed, despite being a bit embarrassed by how fast it had happened, that he’d already come while blowing Quincy.

  That stopped Quincy in his tracks, and he stared wide-eyed at Miles, who grinned at the new arousal. However, Miles was well aware they were getting short on time, so he managed to get them focused on cleaning, then getting dressed.

  He’d had to make an emergency run to a clothing store earlier in the day when he realized he didn’t have a suit coat with him, since the restaurant required one. Miles refused to wear a tie, though. He’d always felt like he was strangling in one. He’d worn them a few times, when he really needed to, and he really would have if Quincy insisted. But Quincy had just chuckled, kissed Miles, then pulled out his own—a deep navy with tiny Japanese characters on it—and finally was dressed himself.

  Chad whistled as they stepped into the living room. “Well, don’t you two look fancy. I’m feeling underdressed. What about you, baby?”

  Jamie snorted. “We’re not going to a prix fixe dinner either.”

  Chad stared at him. “A pre what?”

  “Prix fixe. That’s what they call those. Fixed price for each person.” He shrugged.

  “Huh.” Chad blinked. “I’ve never been to one. And how do you know about them?”

  Jamie wrinkled his nose. “My parents used to be big into stuff like that.”

  Chad winced and Miles frowned. He remembered all too well hearing about the shit Jamie had gone through with his parents over his orientation, culminating in him getting kicked out.

  Chad pulled Jamie in and kissed him softly. “Sorry, baby.”

  “You’re not missing much,” Quincy said, and Miles would have kissed his mate, but he didn’t want to draw attention to what Quincy was doing—comforting Jamie. Because he was well aware Quincy wouldn’t want attention drawn to that. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the food at Le Bernardin, but honestly there’s plenty of good food at much less expensive places.”

  As they walked the eight or so blocks to the restaurant, all four of them had to work to ignore the stench of New York. “I promise, a cab would have smelled even worse,” Quincy assured them. “Really.”

  “Should have gotten the Challenger out,” Chad muttered.

  “You’d probably have to park eight blocks away anyway,” Jamie said, shaking his head.
r />   Quincy laughed. “Maybe not, but it wouldn’t necessarily be right there, that’s for sure.”

  Despite the banter, Miles couldn’t resist looking at every person he passed, peering at doorways and stairwells. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the Three Ds were close. He’d only ever seen Dumber, but he had a feeling he’d recognize the other two as well. But by the time they turned onto 51st Street, he hadn’t seen them. Either they were hiding really well or biding their time.

  “I wonder,” Quincy murmured as they walked the last block. “Since I’m here in New York, I wonder if they might be thinking I’ve come back and are leaving me alone because of it?”

  Chad pursed his lips but shook his head. “Even though they know you’re here, if you were back, wouldn’t you have actually shown up at the Festival yesterday?”

  “Good point,” Miles said. “I’d think that would be enough of a tipoff.”

  Quincy wrinkled his nose. “Dammit, you’re right.” He scowled, and the now ever-present frustration coming across their link got even worse.

  Miles kissed Quincy again, squeezing his hand. “We’ll get this worked out, baby,” he murmured.

  Quincy took a deep breath and nodded. The frustration lightened a little, and Miles felt a little better at having helped him.

  At Le Bernardin they split up, Quincy and Miles turning into the restaurant and Chad and Jamie crossing the street. It took a few moments for them to get the call set up, but eventually all four of them were on the line.

  “Testing,” Quincy said.

  “Got it,” Chad replied. “Miles?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Good,” Jamie replied. “Let’s see what we can find out.”

  “Right,” Chad said. “Don’t forget to use that scary poker face you’ve got, Q. He shouldn’t know we’re listening.”

  “I got it. I know,” Quincy said, snorting.

  “Right. Good luck.”

  Quincy took a deep breath. “Thanks.” He turned to Miles. “Don’t let him get to you,” he muttered.

  Miles smiled and kissed his temple. “He won’t. I’ve got a half-decent poker face, myself.”

  Apparently Aubrey Archer was already waiting for them. The maître d’ led them to a corner table—probably one of the most private in the restaurant. A semicircular bench sat to one side, with two place settings in front of it, and on the other, Aubrey Archer sat, sipping at a dark brown liquid and doing something on his phone.

  Money could do so much, Miles thought.

  Up close, Miles could see small telltale signs that the man was stressed. He was lean and toned, the cut and fit of his suit reflecting that. Quincy had told him that his father had always insisted on making sure he looked the part of a strong leader, both physically and mentally, which, whether Miles liked him or not, made sense. The jaguars didn’t show age until they were quite a bit older than Quincy’s father was—much like the wolves—but the stress lines around Aubrey’s eyes and lips and the hint of dark circles under the dark eyes spoke of sleepless nights.

  “Father,” Quincy said when they stepped up.

  His father looked up and stood. “Quincy,” he said, holding his hand out.

  Quincy shook it, and Miles hid his surprise at the gesture. Quincy had told him more than a few times that they were not a demonstrative family. “Father, this is my mate. Miles Grant.”

  Aubrey looked him up and down before extending his hand. Miles shook it and held the hand as tight as Aubrey did. He would not show weakness to this man. He wasn’t interested in earning Aubrey’s respect. After the way he’d treated his son—whether he ordered it or not, there was too much he should have done and didn’t—Miles couldn’t give a shit what Aubrey thought of him. At the same time, he also wasn’t going to let this man think he was a pushover either.

  Finally Aubrey let go and they took their seats. “So, tell me what you do, Miles.”

  Miles smiled. “I’m a doctor. ER doctor, for the moment.”

  Aubrey raised his eyebrows, and Miles simply waited, knowing the man very likely already knew exactly who Miles was and what he did. It was obviously a test of some sort. “Any particular reason you do that instead of private practice?”

  Miles smiled, understanding the minor dig—that he might make a lot more in a private specialty, rather than as an emergency room doctor. “I care more about actually helping people than money. I make plenty of it without being greedy. Besides, any of our kind who are injured come into that ER if possible, so I can guide their care so as not to raise suspicion.”

  Aubrey studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “It’s good you’re there for that.” Miles wasn’t sure what to make of that reply, but Aubrey was already turning to Quincy. “And how have you been?”

  Quincy was saved from answering by the server. They both ordered scotch, then focused on the menu.

  Miles frowned at it, not even sure where to begin. It claimed “four courses,” but he couldn’t really figure out what four. He leaned in to whisper in Quincy’s ear. “Uh…. What… err….”

  Quincy smiled. “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course,” Miles said without hesitation.

  Aubrey’s eyebrows went up, but they both ignored him.

  “Then let me order for you.”

  “Happily,” Miles said, sitting back.

  Quincy flashed him another smile, then turned to the waiter. “My partner will have the wild salmon tartare, the warm Peekytoe Maryland crab, and the white tuna-Kobe beef. I will have yellowfin tuna carpaccio, the scallops with brown butter dashi, and the poached skate with braised daikon, charred scallion jam, and the confit-kimchi broth.”

  In his ear Chad said, “Damn. I’m glad I’m eating a burger. That sounds disgusting.” Quincy coughed and Miles cleared his throat, both of them obviously fighting snorts.

  Miles turned to Quincy. “Um… so what am I eating?”

  “Salmon, crab, tuna, and beef.”

  “Okay, then,” Miles said, chuckling. “That sounds good.”

  They waited in silence for Aubrey to finish ordering, then turn back to the table. Quincy took a sip of his scotch, and his anxiety spiked over their bond.

  Miles squeezed Quincy’s hand as he studied his father’s expression, then said, “Tell me, right now, to my face, that you didn’t order any of that.”

  They all knew he wasn’t referring to the caviar or lobster. His father looked back at him and said simply, “I didn’t.”

  Miles kept his gaze firmly on Aubrey, but he couldn’t see anything in the man’s eyes to say he was lying. Nothing about his smell indicated it either, though Miles was sure a tepey would have learned how to lie convincingly.

  Quincy deflated a little, apparently believing his father. “Then… what? Who? Why?”

  “I’m still working on that, but I have a few theories. I’m fairly certain we can speak freely, but let’s not go out of our way to be specific. And I would like to get to know your… mate.”

  Quincy sighed. “You could at least pretend to be nice to him, Father.”

  Miles squeezed his hand under the table. “I’m pretty sure we’re both leery of the other, and I think that’s fair.”

  Aubrey nodded. “We can agree on that much.” He turned to Quincy. “But why a d—wolf?”

  Quincy scowled, and Miles tried, again, to soothe him. Chad growled in his ear, but the “Oof!” that cut off the growl made him want to smile. He could totally picture Jamie elbowing Chad.

  He focused back on the people at the table with him as Quincy said, “He’s destined, Father.”

  Aubrey raised an eyebrow. “There’s no—”

  “Don’t. Just don’t,” Quincy said, raising his hand. “As much as I want to know what you know, I will leave.”

  The muscles in Aubrey’s jaw jumped for a moment, but then he nodded. “I didn’t know you believed in them.”

  “I didn’t used to,” Quincy said. “It’s hard to ignore when it’s happening, though.�
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  One of Aubrey’s eyebrows went up. “Oh?”

  Quincy nodded, glanced around, and lowered his voice. “You feel it. There’s a… pull.”

  Aubrey dropped his gaze to the glass. “I don’t know about that. But… I guess if you believe it….” He shrugged a shoulder, and it looked like Quincy wanted to reach across the table and punch him.

  Miles tried to send calm again, rubbing his thumb over Quincy’s hand, and Quincy seemed to settle a little. “I certainly do. I knew your son was my mate the second I saw him. I understand that, as few of you as there are, it would be difficult to believe. I imagine if they’re unusual for us, they’d be almost impossibly rare for you, especially as solitary as you are.”

  Aubrey considered him for a long moment, then nodded. “There are stories, of course. Most of them we’ve come to believe are nothing but legend.” He gave a small smile. He cleared his throat, but at that moment, the first course of the dinner arrived.

  They ate in silence for a while. The food tasted wonderful, though Miles still wasn’t entirely sure what he was eating. Aubrey was actually pleasant—asking about the hospital, Miles’s background, where he was from—and sounding rather nonjudgmental at the same time. Quincy looked downright stunned.

  Miles didn’t quite know what to make of it, but figured he’d just go along with it. In the end he was there for Quincy.

  He finished what turned out to be the salmon and, when Aubrey went to the bathroom, turned to Quincy. “Would you think me horribly crass if I said I still preferred the Japanese steakhouse?”

  “I know I’d prefer that and I’m not even eating it,” Chad said.

  Quincy snorted but shook his head. “Not at all. This kind of thing isn’t for everyone.”

  “I take it he’s not there?” Jamie asked.

  “Bathroom,” Quincy said.

  “Good. I know there’s quite a bit of the meal to go, but see if you can’t nudge him back to the issue at hand,” Chad said.

  “Yeah. We need to get this moving,” Quincy grumbled. “I don’t know what his game is, but it’s driving me fucking nuts.”

  Aubrey chose that moment to return. As he took his seat, he looked steadily at Quincy. “So… what have you been doing?”