Hagen, Lynn - Hunter [Zeus's Pack 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting ManLove) (2 page)

Quinn growled. The little redhead was going to drive him nuts.

“Go on in, Tristan.” He reached up and grabbed the top part of the door, holding it open for the man. Tristan stared up at him, his fair skin magnified by those brilliant green eyes of his.

Tristan took a tentative step in and then waited on him.

“Let’s see what this store has.” Quinn walked around, Tristan following obediently behind him. “You have to pick something out.

What do you want to wear?”

Hunter

11

“Anything you choose for me, sir.” Quinn could see the shorter man’s eyes roaming around. He was looking overwhelmed and excited all at once. There had to be a way to get Tristan to shop for himself without Quinn picking out every stitch of clothing. There was a restless energy about Tristan’s movements as he reached out and fingered one of the shirts hanging on the rack, but quickly pulled it away when he saw Quinn watching him.

He decided to turn this into a game. “What’s your favorite candy, jellybean?”

Tristan’s eyes grew wide and then a slight smile pulled at his lips.

“I tasted Skittles once, sir. I have to say, they were delicious.”

“I tell you what. For every piece of clothing you pick, I’ll buy you a pack. Sound good?”
Let’s see how big the man’s sweet tooth is.

“I’m not sure where to start.”

Quinn splayed his hands wide. “Anywhere in the store. But if that’s too much to handle, then why don’t you start with shirts, and then you can match pants with them.”

Tristan’s hand touched the shirt on the rack once more. “I can pick this one?”

“Anything you want. I’m going to go talk with the sales clerk, so start shopping.” Quinn walked over to the counter but kept an eye on the redhead.

“Can I help you gentlemen with something?” the man asked as Quinn leaned against the counter.

“I’m just waiting on my friend to shop. Name’s Quinn.” Holding his hand out, he introduced himself.

“Lassiter.” The man shook it. “He seems a little lost. Should I help him?”

Quinn watched as Tristan grabbed a loud lime green shirt and tried to match it with a pair of light blue shorts. “Nah, let him pick what he likes.” He chuckled. “As far as I know, it’s his first shopping trip.”

12

Lynn Hagen

“This should be interesting,” Lassiter stated when Tristan pulled a few hats from a shelf and tried them on. The one in hand was a large straw hat with small fake flowers attached to the brim. Didn’t Tristan know it was a woman’s hat? Quinn wanted to say something but didn’t want to interfere. The guy was shopping for himself and choosing his own clothes. Quinn was sure it was a monumental feat in the guy’s life. Why burst his bubble?

He walked over to Tristan, seeing the pile of clothing growing in his arms. “You want me to take some of those to the counter?” His jellybean’s arms were loaded with the most outrageous shirts, ranging from the lime green one to something that resembled a crayon box throwing up on it. Tristan must be colorblind.

“Am I allowed to pick a hat, sir?”

“Whatever you want, jellybean. You can pick four or five if you’d like.” Being single with no dependents, Quinn had managed to build a nice savings. This shopping spree wouldn’t even put a dent in it.

He watched Tristan try on one hat after another, smiling when he went back to the straw one. “I like this one.” He placed it on his pile of clothes and then reached for a red fedora with a white side feather, a very long and wide side feather. Quinn held back the laugh as Tristan tried it on. It looked good on him, complementing his pale complexion and big green eyes.

They finally made it to the counter, Quinn dropping the pile of clothes for Lassiter to ring up. From the amount of clothes Tristan picked out, they would be going to the dentist soon.

“Why don’t you pick out an outfit, give me the tags, and go put it on.” He was tired of looking at the large shorts hanging from Tristan’s slim body with a belt cinched tightly around his waist to hold them up.

“The dressing room is right over there.” Lassiter pointed to a small room in the back of the store. Tristan looked hesitant, his fingers strangling the lower half of his shirt again.

Hunter

13

“Come on, jellybean, I’ll stand guard outside the door.” Tristan’s coiled body relaxed as he grabbed a few items and hurried to catch up with Quinn. “No one is going to get in while you change.”

The wiry man slipped through the door, and Quinn could hear the lock engage. A few moments later, he emerged and handed him the tags.

“I like this, sir.” Tristan gave Quinn his first grin, and it was stunning. His whole face lit up, and those emerald green eyes sparkled like the stars in the sky at night.

But the outfit?

Tristan wore the lime green shirt he had first admired upon entering the store. He matched it with a pair of orange golf shorts that came to his bony knees. If that wasn’t bad enough, he still wore the purple socks, but had a new pair of flip-flops on…and they were brown.

And the cherry on the cake?

He had the red fedora hat on with the white feather sticking out.

He looked like the bag of Skittles had exploded on him. And Tristan couldn’t have looked more pleased with his choice of style.

He heard Lassiter choking from across the store. Quinn knew the man was fighting a laugh. His head turned as he gave a low growl, narrowing his eyes on the clerk. Lassiter turned and gave a pretense of stocking the shelf behind the counter.

Quinn gave his attention back to Tristan. “Looks good, jellybean.”

Oddly enough to Quinn, it did. He still couldn’t figure out the pull Tristan had on him. From the moment he saw him standing in Dino’s bedroom, Quinn had an overwhelming need to protect the guy.

“So how many bags of candy do I get, sir?”

Quinn chuckled. “Let’s go count your clothes and see.”

Tristan peacocked through the store and ended at the counter, looking pleased as punch with himself. As Lassiter rang the clothes up and put them in a bag, Tristan counted. “That’s twenty-four, sir.”

14

Lynn Hagen

Lassiter’s brows rose, but Quinn ignored him. “There’s a grocery store a few doors down. We can stop there and buy them.”

“Your total is six hundred and ninety-two dollars and thirty-six cents.”

“
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy…
”

Quinn grabbed Tristan and pulled him into his arms. The man stiffened, but Quinn held on, rubbing his hands up and down Tristan’s back. The only thing he could think of was that the man sang when he was nervous. “That’s not a lot to me, jellybean. I would have spent more. Never worry about the cost.”

The slim redhead pulled from his embrace and nodded. At least the singing had stopped. Tristan grabbed the bags and struggled to the door as Quinn paid for the lot. “Come back any time.” Lassiter smiled warmly at Tristan as the slim man dropped bag after bag. As soon as he picked one up, another slipped from his fingers.

“Thanks. I think I need to go help him. You have a nice day.”

Quinn grabbed the receipt and jogged over to the door to help Tristan.

“Let me have a few of those.” He squatted and picked up the ones lying haphazardly on the floor, and then grabbed a couple that were clutched in the thin grip of Tristan’s hands. “We’ll put these in the trunk and then head over to the grocery store.”

“Okay, sir.” Tristan nudged the door open and held it for Quinn.

His hat became askew as he fought to hold onto his purchases and keep the door open at the same time. He was an adorable mess.

“Go on to the car. I can get the door.”

Tristan plodded along to the car and waited at the rear of it as Quinn pulled his keys out and opened the trunk. He was already getting strange looks, but the guy didn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, off to the grocers we go.” Quinn led the way with Tristan beside him. He had to hold in a laugh at the way his little friend looked. The guy had no idea the attention he was drawing, and Quinn wasn’t going to clue him in on it either. It would only make him feel awkward, and he wasn’t going to have that.

Hunter

15

“Do I still get to have my Skittles, sir?” Tristan’s eyes were once again darting around, looking for a threat Quinn was clueless about.

“That was the deal.” He made sure he walked ahead so he could grab the door this time, allowing Tristan to walk in ahead of him.

“I understand if you don’t want to get them. Deals sometimes have to be broken.”

“Not when I make one.”
Just who in the hell had broken this poor
man?
“You grab a cart while I see what we need.”

Tristan struggled to get the cart from the row. It appeared to be hooked onto the last one. Quinn took mercy on him and unhinged the two carts, freeing it for his jellybean to push.

Tristan began to slowly move from side to side as the music played overhead. “You like that song?”

Tristan grinned and nodded. The feather almost looked as though it were taking flight as it flapped up and down. “It has a nice beat to it.” Tristan’s hips snapped from side to side as his finger pointed to the ceiling and waggled from side to side.

Wow, Tristan didn’t say
sir
. Maybe music was the answer?

Quinn, never caring what anyone thought of him, began to dance down the aisle with Tristan. “It does, doesn’t it?” He laughed as Tristan’s lips soured, and he began to snap his hips from side to side.

Quinn moonwalked back to the guy. “We should shop while we dance.” He did a pirouette and grabbed a few boxes of cereal, tossing them into the cart.

“Watch, watch.” Tristan said excitedly as he ran to a shelf and grabbed a few cans of soup, tossing them in as he danced around the cart. Quinn was having a great time and enjoyed seeing Tristan so at ease. He no longer resembled a broken puppy, but a man who was flourishing.

“I can top that.” Quinn grabbed boxes of Wheat Thins and made a jump shot, cupping his mouth as he cheered like a crowd was rooting for him.

“Try it again.” Tristan laughed.

16

Lynn Hagen

Quinn grabbed another box and jumped, Tristan running forward and batting it into the cart, making a one in a million shot.

“I did it, I did it.” Tristan jumped up and down excitedly.

He absolutely loved Tristan like this.

“Hey, look.” Quinn pointed to a rack of arts and crafts. “Get whatever supplies you need to draw with.” It wasn’t much coming from a grocery store, but it would have to do until Quinn could go online and order the more professional items. Maybe he could even get Tristan’s input on what he wanted.

Tristan picked the sketchpad up with the least amount of pages in it. Quinn picked up the one with the most. “That way we won’t have to run back here when you need more.”

“I won’t use all my paper up.” Tristan clutched the pad to his chest and turned away, as if it were the lost treasure of Atlantis in his arms.

“I would still rather you take this one.” Quinn tugged a little and Tristan released it, grabbing onto the one Quinn handed him.
Just how
much does he like drawing?

“Get the supplies, too,” Quinn said as he pointed to the selection of colored pencils and erasers.

“He looks like a colorblind pimp.” Two men came walking down the aisle, one pointing at Tristan as he laughed. “How much do you get for that boy next to you?”

Boy?
Quinn was no fucking boy, but a full-grown man and was about to show these two shitheads what this
man
could do. “I’d leave him alone if I were you.” Quinn took a protective step in front of Tristan, ready to add both of them to the produce selection if they didn’t back off.

The loudmouth’s lip pulled back in a snarl as he looked Quinn up and down in distaste. “I’m getting tired of seeing fags in this town.

Why don’t you and Sir Pimp-A-Lot get the hell out of this nice god-fearing town while you still can?”

Hunter

17

Quinn’s brows shot to his hairline as Tristan dropped to the floor and onto his knees, his head lowering as his hands rested on his thighs.

Oh shit, just what they didn’t need right now.

The two cowboys laughed maliciously, one taking a step toward the downed man. Quinn growled and got into the cowboy’s face. “Get the fuck away from him!”

“Is there a problem?”

Quinn didn’t look behind him to see who was asking. He couldn’t afford to. This Billy Bob would have a split-second advantage if he did.

“Taking up for the queers again, Sheriff?” The man took a step back from Quinn, his snarled lip pulling up tighter as they locked eyes.

“I warned you what would happen if you kept that hate crap up, Clancy. Get the hell out of here.”

Quinn took a chance and looked back. Sure enough, a man in a cop’s uniform was coming down the aisle behind them. He reached down, keeping his eyes on the two jackasses as he pulled Tristan up to his feet. What really pissed Quinn off to no end was the fact that he had finally had Tristan opening up and being himself, and then these two had to ruin it.

A muscle clenched in Quinn’s jaw when he saw Tristan backed against the shelf, his sketch pad clutched to his chest. His head turned back to the two men. “I want you to apologize to him, now.” Quinn’s voice was cold and unforgiving.

“I don’t say sorry to pansies.”

“That’s it, Clancy. If you don’t apologize to this young man, I’m taking you in.” The sheriff stepped up next to Quinn, squaring his shoulders.

“For what?” he asked in mocking disbelief.

“For being an asshole. Now do it.”

18

Lynn Hagen

“I’m sorry.” The man paled, looking past Quinn and the sheriff with fear. Clancy and his buddy shot out of the aisle, leaving Quinn to wonder what the hell had scared them.

“What’s going on?”

Quinn spun around, his arms blocking Tristan. Two large men swaggered up to the sheriff. He knew one of them to be Torem, one of the occupants of the new home the construction company Quinn worked for was building. The other looked familiar, but he didn’t know the guy’s name.