Chapter 3
Gideon
Shopping with Ryder was exhausting.
And Gideon usually had damn good stamina when it came to searching for deals and fun stuff.
It was even better that it was winter. The longer nights meant they had access to the stores for more hours. Thank God. They needed every second they could get.
A week passed before they could go pick things out in person. First, Rafe had kept their schedules packed, and then Ryder had refused to do any shopping for his place until Gideon had all of his boxes emptied and items put in their proper places.
That part he wasn’t complaining about. It meant Ryder was in his place a lot after work. They talked—which was mostly Gideon rambling while Ryder grunted occasionally—as Gideon unpacked boxes. Ryder was happy to put things up in high places and hang pictures on the walls.
The moment Gideon had the last thing put away, they snuggled together on the couch with Gideon’s laptop as they ordered some random household items: bookshelves, a TV, and a few other basics that Ryder was sorely missing.
The furniture, sheets, blankets, and towels all needed to be picked in person.
Each item had to be checked for softness and fluffiness.
It was the one thing Ryder was adamant about.
Sadly, he had no opinion about color or style. He’d only ask, “Do you like it?” or “Do you think it would match?”
Gideon was developing an eye twitch.
By the fourth store of the night, Gideon learned that as long as Ryder liked the feel, it was up to Gideon to decide on the actual appearance.
“I’m sorry this has been such a hassle for you,” Ryder murmured, breaking the silence of the truck as they idled at a red light.
“What? No!” Gideon argued, but the rest of his words got stuck in his throat with a single skeptical look from Ryder. Gideon grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t say hassle. I guess I expected you to have more of an opinion on things.”
“Sorry.”
Gideon shifted toward Ryder and petted his right arm through his leather jacket.
“No, don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about.
Some people aren’t into this kind of thing.
It’s no big deal. I’m just worried about your place being too heavily influenced by me and not having enough of your own personal taste. ”
“I like your taste.”
Heat instantly suffused Gideon’s cheeks and he might have briefly choked on a breath while mentally repeating that Ryder did not mean that the way it sounded.
Shit! What were they talking about? His brain had completely stopped working. Now it was full of visions of Ryder’s mouth moving over every inch of his naked body. His tongue lapping at him as though he were a fucking piece of candy.
And now he was getting hard.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This was a disaster. He needed to think of non-sexy things. Nothing related to Ryder and what seemed to be an incredibly kissable mouth.
Gideon was wracking his brain when Ryder turned a corner and Gideon suddenly shouted, “There!” He’d never been so grateful for a thrift store in all his long life.
“Got it,” Ryder grunted and hit his turn signal.
They’d gotten all the main shopping done, and Gideon had talked Ryder into visiting one of his favorite thrift stores.
Ethan had shown it to him months ago, and they both liked to hit it for weird treasures and unique finds.
He wasn’t searching for anything in particular.
This was a chance to find something interesting for his place, and maybe even something for Ryder.
Ryder carefully navigated the slushy road and pulled into an open spot that wasn’t close to any other cars. As Gideon unbuckled his seat belt, Ryder leaned forward and glared at the parking lot.
“Wait for me to come to your side.”
Gideon was about to ask him what was wrong, but Ryder was already climbing out of the truck and walking around the vehicle like a man on a mission. Nothing was getting in his way. Gideon released his seat belt and tugged on his bright-yellow knit hat.
After Ryder pulled open his door, he reached in and scooped up Gideon in his arms as easily as if he were picking up a kitten. A tiny “Eep!” escaped Gideon, and he immediately wrapped his arms behind Ryder’s neck to steady himself.
“What are you doing?” Gideon demanded.
“Door,” Ryder answered.
Gideon took a breath to ask what the hell he was talking about when he realized Ryder’s arms were full. He needed Gideon to close the truck door. Duh. Stretching out one arm, Gideon pushed the door closed and returned it to Ryder’s shoulder.
“The parking lot is full of deep puddles and dirty, slushy snow. I don’t want your shoes to get dirty,” Ryder replied as he started forward through the parking lot, Gideon in his arms, as if it were the most natural thing in the entire world.
Gideon might have glanced at the rainbow galoshes on his feet. The very shoes he put on to trek through dirty slush and puddles. Who was he to argue if it got him service like this?
As they reached the sidewalk, Ryder stood holding him, the glow from the lights of the store gilding all the vampire’s harsh features and making his gray eyes seem even paler. Gideon cupped one of Ryder’s cheeks, his thumb caressing his high cheekbone.
“Why didn’t you warn me you’re a closet romantic? I had no idea.”
“I’m not. I’m not any good at romance. You…you need to be protected. Always.”
Part of him wanted to argue that he didn’t need to be protected all the time.
That he could make it just fine on his own.
But the words never came out because he was drowning in Ryder’s soft gaze.
Maybe Ryder protecting him wasn’t about Gideon not being able to do it himself.
Maybe it was one of Ryder’s love languages.
He leaned closer, drawn to those parted lips. Ryder’s hands tightened on his thighs and side, pulling him in tighter.
“Get a fucking room!” some asshole shouted from a passing car.
Ryder bared his fangs and growled, his eyes taking on a faint glow as if he were ready to launch himself at the idiot who’d interrupted them.
Gideon tossed his head back and chortled. He could feel the tension instantly roll off Ryder, who carefully set him on his feet on the mostly cleared sidewalk in front of the store. Yeah, he wanted to kiss Ryder more than anything, but he’d never imagined it happening in front of a thrift store.
“Come on, my big protector. Let’s see what we can find in the ‘weird crap we don’t need but gotta have’ category.”
Ryder frowned. “If we don’t need it, why are we getting it?”
Gideon shrugged and led the way to the glass front door. “Who knows? Because it looks cool. Because it’ll make Ethan jealous that I found it first. Because your place could really use some useless crap.”
A half smile lifted one corner of Ryder’s mouth, and Gideon practically skipped into the store. It wasn’t a kiss, but he’d take it as a win.
The thrift store was utter chaos, and he loved it.
They tried to organize things according to various categories, such as household items, decorations, clothing, and board games, but people had a tendency to pick things up and walk with them before putting them down in weird places.
He found a cute tiki statue shoved in among a bunch of old casserole dishes straight out of the seventies and a rainbow pillow among the shoes.
Nothing was catching his eye yet, but it meant that he needed to search each and every aisle to inspect all the goods.
Ethan had taught him that. Finding weird treasures required patience and diligence.
Also, the only one of the Varik brothers you could bring shopping at the thrift store was Bel.
None of the others had the patience except for the scientist Varik, who was curious about everything.
Ryder appeared to be quite patient. He trailed along after Gideon, not making a single sound of annoyance. Not that he appeared to be perusing the goods much. Occasionally, he’d stop and pick something up to inspect it, but he always returned it to the shelf.
With a smirk, Gideon wandered over to the books.
They’d packed the shelves with worn paperbacks and some hardbacks of popular fiction, but Ryder was hooked.
After patting Ryder on the shoulder and promising to come fetch him in a while, he left the enormous vampire to pick through secondhand books, allowing Gideon to wander through the rest of the store without a care.
Ryder wasn’t bad to shop with. He never complained. He was always happy to carry things. And he never made a peep about how much money Gideon was spending. Yeah, that was nice.
Oh! He also never teased Gideon about being too weird or impulsive. That was even better.
Gideon continued to wander through the store, catching glimpses here and there of the three other customers who were strolling the aisles in search of treasure.
An eighties power ballad was playing on the store speakers, and Gideon hummed along.
He was just about to consider the trip a bust when he found it.
A squeal might have erupted from him that was high-pitched enough to break glass, but he didn’t care.
He dropped to his knees in front of the old leather-and-wood trunk with worn brass accents on the corners.
The leather handles on the ends carried some wear and tear, as if someone had heavily used the trunk over the years.
There were even some faded vintage stickers proclaiming the thing had seen Paris, Berlin, and Sydney in its heyday.
It was beautiful and perfect in every way.
The sound of rushing footsteps drew his eyes from the trunk in time to see Ryder running toward him with his arms completely full of books. Gideon didn’t know how he was keeping all of them in his grip while running. It was kind of a miracle.
“Are you okay?” Ryder demanded, looking ready to pounce on anyone who’d dare to disturb Gideon.