Ethan (Alluring Indulgence) (6 page)

♂♂

While
he waited for Zane to arrive, Beau transferred the tools he had in his
roll-around over to the main toolbox and proceeded to load his personal items
into his own truck. He had just finished hefting the empty roll-around into the
bed of his truck while Ralph and Ricky tracked his every move. The only thing
left was his toolbox, which he had locked in order to keep Ricky out of his
shit. Beau was grateful when he heard the sound of the flatbed’s diesel engine
as it pulled into the parking lot.

Considering
he had told Zane what he needed, he wasn’t surprised to see the black F650
backing through the gate slowly, getting closer to the bay doors. Unlocking the
wheels, Beau rolled the heavy toolbox as far as he could, desperately wanting
to get out of there as quickly as possible. As it was, he’d already had to
stall for a solid fifteen minutes because, as usual, Zane was late.

Offering
a few hand signals for direction, Beau helped Zane back the truck in so that
the bed would lower just outside the bay door. Once the truck was parked, Beau
launched himself onto the bed in order to retrieve the winch cable.

Less
than a minute later, Beau hopped back down and took it upon himself to head
over to the controls that would lower the bed to the ground. No reason to wait
for Zane because he was ready to get the hell out of there. Listening to Ricky
whine like a fucking girl for the last twenty minutes had made him want to stab
something into his ears just to make the obnoxious sound go away.

Beau
wasn’t paying attention to anything around him, with the exception of the flatbed
sliding back and dropping down so that he could get the toolbox winched up onto
it. The minutes seemed to tick by slowly while he waited with Ricky’s beady
eyes boring into him from across the shop. Once the bed was down, Beau stepped
over to the storage compartment to retrieve the tie straps when Ethan came
around from the side of the truck.

Ethan.
Not Zane.

“Need
help?”

Beau
stumbled forward, barely catching himself before he face-planted into the side
of the truck. “Where’s Zane?” Wow, that was a stupid question, but at least he
knew his voice worked.

“He
had to meet with Travis.”

Figures.

Not
that Beau was complaining at all. The fact that Ethan was standing just a few
feet away, looking hot as sin, wasn’t going to make the task of getting his
tools loaded on the truck any easier, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was
happy to see him, even if the circumstances weren’t what he would’ve hoped for.

“Here,
hand me that,” Ethan instructed, nodding toward the tie strap in Beau’s hand.
“I’ll get it ready while you connect the winch.”

Without
hesitation, Beau handed the strap to Ethan and then moved around to the back of
the truck. For the next few minutes, Ethan and Beau worked side by side, paying
attention to nothing except getting their task completed. Once they had the
toolbox on the bed, strapped down tight, Beau made his way back into the shop,
grabbing the last of his things before returning to where Ethan was standing on
the far side of the truck, double checking everything.

“Hey!”
Ricky exclaimed as he came out of the open bay door. “That ain’t Zane!”

Captain
Obvious, Ricky was today.

Beau
turned to look at Ricky, their eyes meeting across several feet of concrete.

“That’s
that fucking faggot,” Ricky said with a snarl, pointing toward Ethan, who was
now making his way around to the front of the truck. “Hey Beau, did you get
your girlfriend to come pick you up?”

A
blind rage began churning inside of Beau, a whirlwind of both anger and fear
mixing together to form a storm so powerful, he wasn’t even sure what was
happening. The next thing he knew, Beau had erased the gap between him and
Ricky, lifted the scrawny little fucker right off of his feet, and was holding
him at least a foot off the ground by his shirt.

Someone
was yelling at him. He could barely hear the voice over the roar of his own
blood in his ears and the screeching noise that Ricky was making.

“Put
him down, Beau. Goddammit! Put. Him. Down!”

The
command was unmistakable. The voice reassuring as it continued to demand him to
drop the son of a bitch. Releasing Ricky’s shirt, Beau watched as he dropped to
his feet, and once he’d righted himself, a smug look on his ugly fucking face,
Beau used all of his strength and shoved him. Shoved him so hard, Ricky flew
back several feet, stumbling but unable to keep himself upright before he
crashed into one of the diagnostic machines and landed flat on his ass.

“Let’s
go,” Ethan said rigidly, wrapping his strong fingers around Beau’s bicep. When
he didn’t move immediately, Ethan yanked on his arm, causing him to move his
feet or fall on his ass. “I said let’s fucking go.”

Beau
turned to look at Ethan, noticing how calm he was on the outside, but he could
see the rage swimming in his stormy blue eyes.

“Get
in your truck, Beau. I’ll follow you home.”

“Yeah!
You heard him. Go home with your
girl
friend!” Ricky yelled from his
perch on the floor, sounding like an adolescent bully. “Told you he was a
queer, Ralph.”

Before
Beau could make Ricky eat his fucking words, Ethan had grabbed him again,
forcing him back several more feet. As calm and unruffled as Ethan appeared,
Beau was satisfied to see he was flipping Ricky off as he walked away.

Unable
to say a word, his body still a maelstrom of anger and outrage, Beau managed to
nod his head and allowed Ethan to steer him toward his truck. Once inside the
cab, it took him two tries to get the key in the ignition because his hands
were shaking, but once he did, the sound of the radio blaring and the roar of
the engine pulled him from the trance he’d been in. Glaring out the window, he
saw Ralph helping Ricky to his feet.

Beau
had to wait for the wrecker to pull out before he could follow, and while he
waited, he contemplated getting out of his truck and beating the shit out of
the little bastard just because he could.

A
horn blared, startling Beau. He looked out the front windshield to see Ethan
waving a hand in his direction. Stomping his foot on the gas, Beau let the
truck’s oversized engine roar as he bolted out of the parking lot, the back
wheels losing traction as he slid onto the main road before he easily got the
truck back under control.

Forcing
himself to calm down, Beau let off the gas a little as he headed back down Main
Street. His apartment wasn’t far from the shop, so it didn’t take long for him
to get home and obviously Ethan didn’t have any issues keeping up with him.

Once
his truck was parked, he sat with his hands gripping the steering wheel, his
mind settling as the adrenaline drained from his body. God he was tired all of
a sudden.

A
tap on the window had him slowly turning his head. Ethan was standing outside
the truck, the wind gusting around him. He made a motion for Beau to roll down
the window, but Beau opened the door instead. Rather than getting out, he
turned slightly to face Ethan, another shot of adrenaline tearing through his
already emotionally drained body.

Ethan.

He
was there. Not two feet away from him. The man’s calm mask was solidly in
place, but Beau could sense the tension in his body. He had to wonder whether
he was the reason for the way Ethan’s shoulders bulged against the black button
down shirt he had on over a dark gray t-shirt. Or maybe Ethan was still riled
from Ricky’s foul mouth.

“Where’re
you gonna put this?” Ethan asked, looking around as though he were trying to
find the secret place Beau might stash a fully stocked mechanic’s toolbox.

Apparently
Ethan was back in business mode.

Shit.
He hadn’t thought about that. It wasn’t like he could get the damn thing up to
his apartment on the third floor. Shrugging, Beau didn’t take his eyes off of
Ethan. “Hadn’t thought that far.”

Ethan
actually smiled and Beau found himself frozen in place. The man was so fucking
handsome. Blue-gray eyes that darkened to a deep, cobalt blue when he was
angry; a stern, angled jaw covered with at least a week’s worth of beard, along
with a slightly crooked nose that looked as though it’d been broken at some point,
although Beau couldn’t for the life of him remember when that could’ve
happened. And when he smiled, Beau wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything quite
like it.

He
had the urge to touch him, to reach out and run the backs of his fingers down
Ethan’s stubbly cheek. To grab him, crush his mouth to Ethan’s and take
everything he’d desired for months. The memory of the night he’d kissed Ethan
hit him like a surprise blow to the head.

Great.

Now
he seriously wanted to kiss him.

♂♂

Ethan
found himself staring at Beau, watching every nuance of his expression, even
the way his chocolate brown eyes stared back at him as though he weren’t
actually seeing him.

Was
he still in shock maybe? Or just reliving what had just happened?

Unable
to look away, Ethan tracked Beau as he climbed down from his oversized truck, a
fire red GMC Sierra 3500HD – the kind of truck chicks went crazy for and
threaded a ribbon of jealousy through the cowboys who got close enough to
witness its power. As far as Ethan was concerned, it suited Beau to a T, but
would be a colossal pain in his ass to work on for its sheer size alone.

When
Beau climbed down to the ground just a few feet in front of him, Ethan let his
gaze rake over him, hoping he wasn’t being quite as obvious as he felt. He
couldn’t help himself. Something about the man, the way he carried himself, had
Ethan’s entire body taking notice. He was absolute perfection.

Beau
lifted his ball cap from his head and ran his hand through his disheveled blond
hair and looked around, like he didn’t realize where he was. When he turned to
face Ethan, he felt the passion in his gaze dart across his entire body like a
physical caress. Beau obviously didn’t try to hide his attraction the way Ethan
hoped he had. If he would have to guess, Beau was still a little stunned by the
scene back at Dillinger’s, which was probably part of the reason he appeared to
be confused.

Ethan
had been down that road before. The one that led to anger so explosive, he
feared what he’d do. Now… well, now he treaded lightly because showing the hurt
or the anger only made things worse.

Remembering
the incident, the word that had come out of Ricky’s mouth, had his hands
trembling with lingering anger. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked
down at the ground for a minute, trying to catch his breath.

Ricky’s
reaction wasn’t something Ethan had to deal with on a daily basis – anymore –
but that was because he kept himself holed up as often as possible. He had
certainly handled his fair share of harassment over the years. More so when he
was younger, too confused to understand that he wasn’t like everyone else, and
too stupid to realize he should just keep his mouth shut.

Not
that Ethan could do anything to change how Ricky reacted, or anyone else for
that matter. It wasn’t the first time someone would take a stab at him, and it
wasn’t – by a long shot – the most he’d had to endure. It didn’t matter that he
never flaunted his lifestyle, nor did he talk about it, but there was always
someone who thought they could antagonize him. It was a small town. Rumors
existed. That was life and Ethan had accepted long ago that the only thing he
could do was keep his mouth shut, his eyes forward and try his best to ignore
them.

Ricky
Dillinger was a prick. Always had been and always would be. His “faggot”
comment hadn’t surprised Ethan in the least. In fact, he was surprised it
hadn’t come sooner than it had. There was no love lost between Ethan and that
little bastard. But what had surprised him was Beau’s reaction. If the guy was
going to get all up in arms about bigots like Ricky who spewed filth when they
opened their mouths, he was in for a world of hurt in the future.

“You
ok?” Ethan found himself asking, unable to hide his concern for Beau, even if he
knew the guy was going to have to get tougher skin if he expected to live his
life openly.

Beau
shook his head as though to shake out the cobwebs before looking at him, his
eyes seeming to clear somewhat.

“Good.
Sorry.”

“No
need to apologize to me. You’ll have to get used to assholes like Ricky
mouthing off like that. Trust me, that was tame compared to what I’ve heard
before.”

Beau
stood up straight, the muscles in his shoulders tensing, his brows furrowing as
he looked at Ethan. “I don’t have to get used to shit.”

Ethan
hadn’t expected Beau’s defensive response, but, as usual, his own defenses
locked into place. “Well, tough guy, if you’re gonna come out of the closet,
you’ll have to get used to people sharing their opinions. Right or wrong, they
aren’t nearly as accepting as you want them to be.”

Ethan
turned to walk away, wanting to find a way to busy himself so he could get the
hell out of there. He didn’t make it two steps before Beau’s hand was on his
arm, successfully spinning him back to face him.

“You
think that was because I give a fuck what that spineless little prick thinks
about
me
?”

Beau’s
statement forced Ethan’s irritation level even higher. He took a step closer,
getting right up in Beau’s face.

Fuck.

If
there was any difference in their height, it was maybe an inch at most – in
Beau’s favor – which put them nose to nose. Beau’s shoulders were wider, his
chest too, but aside from that, from where he stood, they were a pretty good
match.

Ethan
wasn’t quite sure whether it was Beau’s intimidating stance or whether he
actually was bigger than he was giving him credit for, but Ethan felt… smaller.
And he liked the fuck out of it for some strange reason. There weren’t all that
many men who could make him feel that way.

But
that wasn’t the only thing Ethan noticed as he stood so close to Beau. How was
it the guy could still smell so damn good when he spent the day rummaging
around in a greasy engine? His scent was potent; a fresh clean smell
interspersed with that sexy cologne he wore and a hint of engine grease.

“Well,
I know it damn sure wasn’t because you were defending my honor.” Ethan laughed
without mirth, remembering why he was standing so close as he pulled out of
Beau’s grasp.

Attraction
or not, he damn sure didn’t like the idea of Beau coming to his rescue. He
didn’t need anyone fighting his battles for him.

“Well,
I hate to disappoint you, but that’s just who I am,” Beau said, turning away
from him.

“No,
uh-uh,” Ethan growled, grabbing Beau the same way he had him seconds before. “Don’t
you dare walk away from me.”

Tempers
were high, evident when Beau took a step closer, coming nearly nose to nose
with Ethan again and forcing him back against the door of his own truck.

“Why?”
Beau inquired. “You want me to stand here so you can tell me to mind my own
business?”

Yes.
That was exactly what he wanted to tell Beau.

A
gust of wind whipped around them, a chill racing down Ethan’s spine. He wasn’t
sure whether he was more affected by the cold bite of the air or the glacial
look in Beau’s eyes.

“You
can’t fight my battles,” Ethan said forcefully, trying to grab hold of the last
remnants of his control. He tried to ignore the flex of Beau’s arm beneath his
hand, or the intensely sexy scent of that cologne Beau favored. Or the fact
that they were nearly chest to chest.

He
damn sure wasn’t interested in letting Beau see how fucking hot he made him.
Not to mention, he didn’t want to fight with Beau. Hell, he didn’t want to talk
to Beau period. He was here as a favor to Zane. That was the only reason he
would’ve signed up for this shit.

“That
wasn’t your battle to fight,” Beau said seriously. “But I can tell you one
thing…” Beau shoved his finger in Ethan’s chest, and the simple pressure had
Ethan sucking in a breath, and it wasn’t because it hurt. No, quite the
opposite. “I won’t stand back and let anyone talk shit about those I care
about.”

Ethan
released Beau’s arm and shoved the hand stabbing at him away. Hard. He wasn’t
going to stand there and listen to Beau spout bullshit about caring about him.
He might want to fuck him, but that was about all there was to this.

“I’m
not your business,” Ethan said lethally.

Beau
didn’t move an inch, but Ethan felt as though he were pressed fully up against
him. The heat from his colossal body somehow forced away the icy February
breeze and warmed him from the inside out.

Not
a good thing.

“I
want you to be my business.”

Ethan
shook his head. “You don’t know what you want. If you’re smart, you’ll stay as
far away from me as possible.”

He
had wanted to warn the man off of him for too long. Now that he had the
opportunity, Ethan almost wished he could take the words back. Only they were
the truth. Beau deserved better than what Ethan had to offer him or any man for
that matter. It was hard enough to engage in relationships that were strictly
sexual in nature, but that’s all Ethan had to offer. That was all he wanted to
offer.

Before
he could say anything more, Beau was closer, the warmth of his chest seeping
through the thin layers of cotton that separated them.

“I
know exactly what I want. And you’d be smart to give in because I can tell you,
I don’t have any intentions of giving up.”

And
just like that, Beau’s warmth disappeared as he took a step back. Ethan was
gearing up to give Beau a piece of his mind when a truck door slammed, and
Ethan jerked to see who it was. Beau growled, low and intimidating. Something
Ethan had gotten familiar with. It was Beau’s possessive response he’d noticed.
And, damn it all to hell, he liked the sound way too much.

“Son
of a bitch,” Ethan groaned, his eyes locking with Blake’s over the hood of the
wrecker.

“What
the hell is he doing here?” Beau growled from behind him, the deep, gravelly
sound of his voice causing an influx of heat to build inside of Ethan.

“He
doesn’t know when to give up,” Ethan muttered as he walked away from Beau.
“What do you want, Blake? I’ve got shit to do today. I don’t have time for
this.”

“But
you have time for
him
?” Blake asked, his green eyes narrowed to slits as
he stared past him at Beau.

The
guy looked like shit. And that was saying something because Blake had always
looked good. Always put together. A metrosexual, Ethan thought they were
called, Blake was known for his attention to detail when it came to his
appearance.

Not
today. Blake’s scruffy beard made Ethan’s normal disregard to his appearance
look stylish. His dark hair was a mess, obviously not combed that morning. His
long-sleeved, navy blue Henley shirt was wrinkled and untucked and as Ethan
moved around the truck, he noticed that one of Blake’s pants legs was tucked
into his boot as though he’d gotten dressed in the dark.

“This
is work, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“The
hell it is.” Blake’s anger seemed out of place, especially since Blake had
insisted on having the last word two weeks ago. “Work would be dumping that
shit off. What I saw when I pulled up wasn’t work.”

Ethan
had no idea why he felt the need to explain himself, but he had to catch the
words before he went any further. He didn’t want to intentionally hurt Blake,
but their time together had run its course, and Ethan did want to move on.
Having Blake show up every time he turned around was starting to seriously piss
him off.

“Look,
–” Blake promptly cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“He’s
been talking shit about me, hasn’t he?” Blake asked hysterically. “Is that why
you don’t want to see me anymore? Are you listening to his lies?”

What
the fuck? Ethan felt like he was in an alternate universe, one where Blake had
the ability to rewrite history and change what had happened.

Glancing
over his shoulder, Ethan noticed that Beau was watching them closely. He turned
back to Blake, trying to see what part of this that he’d missed. It wasn’t like
Ethan had any contact with Beau. Well, aside from one kiss that had rocked his
world and now this… today. But this was business, nothing more.

Ethan
had known Blake for a while. Spent a lot of time with him and was privy to
numerous sides of his personality. He certainly was extremely self-centered,
insistent that everything revolved around him, but this seemed a little much,
even for Blake.

Ethan
had no idea what Blake was rambling about. None whatsoever.

He
turned again to see Beau still staring at the two of them, his biceps bulging
through the tight sleeves of his short sleeved t-shirt as he crossed his arms
over his chest. How the hell wasn’t he cold? It probably wasn’t more than
thirty-five degrees outside, and that didn’t include the wind chill factor.

Turning
back to face Blake, Ethan mirrored Beau’s defensive stance, crossing his arms
over his chest and keeping several feet between the two of them. He raised an
eyebrow, signaling Blake to continue. If he knew anything about Blake, the guy
would ultimately end up putting his own foot in his mouth before it was all over.
He never had learned when to shut the hell up.

“I
helped him move his stuff,” Ethan explained, gesturing toward the hulking
toolbox still sitting on the flatbed, although he had no idea why he bothered
to say anything. He didn’t owe Blake any explanations.

“Are
you dating him?” Blake asked, not seeming to have heard a word Ethan said.