Chapter Five
chapter FIVE
W hile 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 F-650 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 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. God damn it! Put. Him. Down!”
The command was unmistakable. The voice reassuring as it continued to demand that he 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 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, forcing him to either 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 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 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.