“Great, thank you.” James appreciated the extra safeguards and someone watching the crew’s backs, especially if he wasn’t going to be around them to do it himself.
“So…were you serious about being bored?” Trevon asked James. “Because I, uh, could maybe use someone who knows how to build shit and make it strong.”
“Did you put your big-ass toolbox on that rickety shelf again this morning?” Quinn cracked up. “I told you it was going to bust.”
“Well, you don’t always have to be right.” Trevon knocked his shoulder into Quinn’s, though he seemed sheepish about having caused damage, unintentional or not. “Besides, you never complain about the size of my tools any other time.”
“True enough.” Quinn squeezed Trevon’s hand as Devra shot them both lovey-dovey eyes.
James knew what it was like to feel like you might not belong, even if everyone around you insisted you did. “Help me rummage up some tools from Gavyn’s shed and I’ll tell you all about the fuck-ups your hubby has made since I’ve known him. Remember that time you accidentally cheated on your girlfriend with her own brother after the prom?”
Ransom and Levi groaned and laughed, ragging on Quinn for being a dirtbag in his misguided youth.
No way was Trevon going to be the odd man out on James’s watch. He strutted over to Trevon, snatched his hand from Quinn, then led him to the red-and-black outbuilding James and Neil had erected on a previous weekend trip to Middletown.
Behind them, Devra turned to Quinn and playfully smacked his gut before hissing, “You didn’t really do that did you? You asshole.”
Quinn winced. “Still not a proud moment all these years later. Ugh. I promise I learned to be a better man for you two.” He drew Devra to him and showed her with a gentle, sensitive kiss that he’d matured plenty since then.
Trevon shook his head as James dragged him inside and pointed to the stuff he needed before they got off track and forgot about their project entirely. When they were both loaded down with saws, hammers, drills, and fasteners, plus a decent number of scrap boards, James figured he could whip them into something that was both useful and presentable for the shop before the afternoon was over.
“You need a hand?” Trevon asked as he set the load down near the wimpy AF shelf that had been obliterated by whatever mechanical whosie-whats-it Trevon had plunked onto it.
“Nope.” James shooed him away. “You go over there, fix things, and look sexy doing it.”
“Don’t be looking at my husband’s fine ass when he’s bending over,” Devra teased James as she returned from restocking the homemade snacks she spoiled them with in the breakroom. “That’s my job!”
From around the garage, Wren, Ollie, Walker, Dane, and Sevan—the rest of the Hot Rides gang—snickered.
“Noted.” James shook his head, thinking how much like the crew they were—open, loving, and accepting, along with a hint of naughty spice that would probably sneak up and burn you from the inside out until you were dying for a glass of cool water, or a solid orgasm, to quench your thirst.
So why didn’t he feel at home here like he did when working alongside Mike, Joe, Dave, Neil, and Devon? Because the Hot Rides were a gang, but they weren’t his crew and never would be.
James clenched his borrowed hammer and drove in a nail with two even swings. The familiar zing that traveled up his arm settled his anxiety, so he did it again, then again. He lined up a board, measuring it by eye, then sliced his pencil over it before trimming it to size.
What had been a single insufficient shelf quickly became an entire organization system with hooks for hanging tools beneath it and a cabinet that stabilized the entire unit. He anchored it to the cinderblock wall, which allowed for it to easily hold fifty times the load it had before.
While he worked, he didn’t have to think about anything but creating. Tidying and improving. Building instead of tearing stuff down. That at least was something familiar and soothing. But it wasn’t enough, because doing this well wasn’t the same as wanting to do it all the time.
He made it a game where he played against himself, trying to do things the most efficiently, to the best of his ability, which kept driving him forward. In addition to construction, he was great at coming up with systems for things. Hell, even his underwear drawer was color-coded. So this really ticked all his boxes. He measured each of Trevon’s tools, then custom fit the dividers in a drawer to cradle each of them perfectly.
Pretty soon, he couldn’t think of anything else to add to make the project better.
He stepped back and eyed his handiwork.
“Damn, James.” Trevon clapped an oversized hand on his shoulder, knocking him forward a bit in the process. “That’s incredible. I never could have imagined something like that but it kicks ass. There’s a place for everything and I can see what I have to work with at a glance. This is going to save me so much time and aggravation. Seriously. Thank you.”
Quinn stood shoulder to shoulder with them, admiring the new addition. “I admit it, I’m kind of jealous. You know, we always have shit like this come up.”
He waved at the storage racks. “Something falls apart, or someone crashes a bike into an equipment stand—ahem, Dane—or we want to add a feature to the shop, but we never have downtime to do it right. We’ve been slammed with new customers and never have a chance to expand properly. If you’re not wanting the hassle of a crew of your own, we’d be glad, and really fucking lucky, to have you here at Hot Rides working on…whatever.”
“Are you offering me a job?” James wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or horrified. He didn’t need Quinn’s pity or a spot as a lackey on someone else’s team. What he wanted…well, shit, wasn’t that the problem? He wanted what he’d had and that was gone.
Trying to replace it with something similar but not…well, it didn’t hold the same appeal. Not without some higher purpose. It might make him a fool to keep searching for something he couldn’t put his finger on. Shouldn’t he be grateful for what he’d had and do his best to contribute what he could going forward?
He must have hesitated too long.
“I mean…only if you want one.” Quinn held his hands up, palms out.
“Thanks, Quinn. I do appreciate the thought, but…”
“Ah, he’s letting you down easy.” Sevan patted her boss on the shoulder. “That was a good try, though, Quinn.”
“Yeah, we probably couldn’t afford him anyway.” Trevon smiled kindly at James. “You’re really great at this.”
“Thanks.” He scanned his work. It had been a quick build and, yeah, it didn’t totally suck. But what did you do when you didn’t want to do the thing you were best at anymore?
He looked up at the clock and saw they’d been at it longer than he’d realized. Neil and Devon would be home soon enough. And no matter what else he was unclear about in his life, he knew that he wanted to spend as much time with them as he could. “I think I’d better head back to our place if I’m going to get there before the rest of the crew comes home.”
“Want a ride?” Quinn offered.
James figured he’d had enough new experiences, and rehashed ones, for that day. None of them seemed quite right, and it only made him feel like a would-be Cinderella who couldn’t make the construction boot fit.