His Stepdad Wears Leather Read online

  Stacey gave Geena the stink eye, and all Brody could do was laugh. Geena shrugged. “I wink. So what? That’s all I do.”

  Stacey sighed and shook her head in what appeared to be exasperation. “Why I married you, I don’t know.”

  “You love me,” Geena answered. “And I love you.” She leaned over and forced Stacey to give her a kiss. Stacey tried not to smile, but lost that battle.

  The waiter returned with his beer and leaned a little too close to place it on the table. Brody’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

  “I see a gift bag—is it someone’s birthday?” the waiter asked.

  “My son,” Brody answered. “He’s turning thirteen later this week.”

  The waiter grinned as he eyed Parker. “Well, happy birthday, young man.”

  “Thanks,” Parker said. “Do you like my dad?”

  Brody groaned as Stacey whispered an admonishment at the boy. He saw the waiter’s face go blood red.

  Parker wasn’t done. “Well, my mom said you guys were flirting, but I don’t think you were.”

  “Honey, your dad and I are old friends,” the waiter grinned at Brody. “We met at his club.”

  Brody was at a loss. “Um… yeah… sure. Old friends.”

  From the rigid guise carved into the waiter’s face, he apparently realized Brody didn’t have a clue who the guy was. He took out an order pad. “Is everyone ready to order?” he asked stiffly.

  Brody hadn’t glanced at the menu, and it gave him a reason to look anywhere but the waiter. “You guys go ahead—let me peek.”

  They all ordered what they wanted. When it came time for him to order, Brody tried not to glance at the guy. “I’ll have the Honey Shrimp.”

  “White or brown rice?”

  “Ah… whatever’s easier.”

  “Easy. Yeah,” the waiter said, dotting the order pad viciously. “I’ll go put that in.”

  Stacey laughed at Brody as soon as the waiter was out of earshot. “You don’t remember him, do you?”

  Brody shrugged, his face going a bit red. As owner of one of the most popular gay clubs in the area, he met a lot of men. A lot. And he enjoyed his time with each and every one of them. How was he supposed to remember all of them?

  “I don’t know if I’d eat whatever he places in front of you,” Geena said before busting out with a laugh.

  “Thanks,” he replied sardonically.

  “When did you start going after twinks?” Geena asked.

  “What’s a twink?” Parker asked.

  “Damn it, Geena,” Stacey mumbled before gazing at Parker. “I’ll tell you when you’re eighteen.”

  “As if the internet doesn’t exist,” Parker said, lifting his cellphone in one hand.

  Brody snatched the cell from his son’s hands and rested it on the other side of his silverware. “Not at the table.” He might not be able to stop him from searching eventually, but damned if he wanted to be sitting beside the boy when he figured out what a twink was—as there would most definitely be many more questions to come after.

  “That’s my phone,” Parker cried.

  “And you’ll get it back when I leave,” Brody replied.

  Parker grumbled under his breath. He lifted a handheld console and put his new game into a slot.

  “Is this the new one?” Brody asked.

  “Yup,” Parker replied, already tuning them out and playing the game.

  “You gave him his gift already?” Brody asked. The boy’s birthday wasn’t for another three days.

  “Well, if you’d given him the game first, it’s not like he wouldn’t have guessed what else was coming,” Stacey said.

  They were doing birthday dinner early because of Brody’s schedule. Weekends were hard for him to get away from the club – it was their busiest time—and now that the boy was getting older, he was more interested in hanging with his friends than his part-time dad anyway. Brody appreciated them celebrating early for his sake. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Brody sighed and eyed Parker playing away before he turned his sights back on Geena and Stacey. “I thought it was one that hooked up to the TV?”

  “It does both… it’s vers,” Geena said with a wink.

  Fuck me. The game’s a literal switch. He shook his head.

  “Will you stop giving our son things to look up on the internet?” Stacey whispered loudly.

  Parker’s head popped up. “What? What else do I need to look up?”

  “Nothing,” all three adults said as one.

  Parker glared at them before once again becoming engrossed in his game.

  Geena pulled out her cellphone and typed something. Brody’s phone vibrated. He fished it out and gazed at his screen.

  The twink?? Are YOU playing daddy now?

  “Maybe,” Brody answered. “Why not?” He wasn’t. Brody didn’t do the whole daddy thing, but it was no one’s business but his own.

  Stacey grabbed Geena’s phone from her hands and eyed the text. She lifted her stare to Brody. “This is not appropriate family meal conversation.”

  “When have we ever been appropriate?” Geena asked.

  Brody chuckled. “Why not tell me how the two of you have been?”

  Stacey regaled him with her new promotion at the university library and their upcoming vacation plans. Geena grumbled about the hospital and how she was getting too old for the long hours she pulled as an RN. They asked him how business was at the club, which was booming. By the time he was done, their food arrived.

  He glanced down at his plate. “Is this safe for me to eat?”

  Their waiter put one hand on his hip and smiled. “Probably.”

  Brody eyed the guy, lifting one brow.

  The waiter ambled closer and whispered. “Look, I’m not losing my job because some jerk forgot me after I rocked his world. Give me a real big tip and we can forget it, hmm?” He paused. “Or you can buy me a couple of drinks… and maybe I can remind you, daddy. I’m off tomorrow.”

  Daddy. That word never really worked on him, especially considering his past. He narrowed his eyes, but thought better of saying anything. “Tomorrow we’re having a huge luau—I’ll be busy with setting that up and managing the crowd.” He paused, noting the sharp arch in the waiter’s eyebrow. “I’m heading back after dinner tonight if you want to stop by after work,” Brody replied. He’d buy the guy a drink or two if it ensured his food was safe… but he wasn’t sure there would be anything but drinks.

  If the guy hadn’t been memorable… what was the point of a round two?

  “You got it. Tonight.” The waiter winked and walked off.

  Brody sighed with relief.

  “Oh no… he’s not flirting,” Stacey stated. “Not flirting at all.”

  “Eat your dinner,” Brody said before lifting all his shrimp and checking under them, for safe measure.

  They all dug in. Once they were done eating, the waiter was back, asking about dessert.

  “We brought a cake,” Stacey said. “We gave it to the hostess.”

  “I’ll have it out with some plates and silverware in a moment,” the waiter replied happily. He was back moments later with a full crew. They sang a hearty rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ and lowered the flaming cake before Parker. Parker beamed before making his wish and blowing out his candles.

  Another waiter placed a stack of plates, forks, and a cake knife on the table.

  They dug into the cake.

  “Ladies, I apologize. I just noticed a lone cupcake was also in the box. Am I too late?” Their waiter placed a lit cupcake in the center of the table.

  Brody stiffened, immediately realizing who it was for.

  Stacey snatched the cupcake and quickly blew it out. “We can take that home with the leftovers of the cake,” she replied, her jaw tight.

  The waiter smiled, but Brody could see the man’s confusion. “Is it your birthday, too?”

  “No,” Stacey murmured before resting the cupcake back on the table.
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  The waiter’s frown deepened before searching Brody’s face. “Is there anything else I can get you guys?”

  “No,” Geena smiled solemnly. “We’re fine.”

  He walked away, still frowning. The table was quiet for a few moments, focused on Stacey. Her pain was palpable as she eyed the cupcake.

  “Mom?” Parker whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry you’re sad.”

  Stacey grasped Parker’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m not sad, baby. It’s a happy night,” she obviously lied.

  Brody could see how much pain she was in. It happened every year. Parker’s birthday just so happened to be two days after Noah’s—and every single year, Stacey and Geena remembered the son ripped from their arms in some small way.

  “We should light it… and make a really good wish, Mom,” Parker said.

  Stacey smiled at Parker and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Geena fished out a pack of matches from her bag.

  “Smoking again?” Stacey asked with a raised brow as she snagged the pack.

  “Nope,” Geena said wide-eyed.

  After the candle was relit, Stacey stared at the dancing flame a moment, a melancholy expression on her face. She then closed her eyes and perhaps made a wish before she and Parker blew out the candle.

  Stacey smiled. “He’s eighteen tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll hear from him soon.”

  Geena took Stacey’s hand and kissed it. “Maybe. Once he’s an adult and can do as he wishes—maybe he can be free.”

  Brody turned to a glum-looking Parker. He didn’t want his son wallowing in grief. “Excited to hit Adventure Island this weekend?”

  Parker’s face lit up. “Yeah! Buddy Trimble had his twelfth birthday there, and we had a lot of fun. They’ve added laser tag since then. I can’t wait.”

  “No adults… a bunch of kids, trampolines, and too much energy. Sounds like an injury waiting to happen,” Brody said with a chuckle.

  “It’s not no adults,” Stacey countered.

  Brody chuckled. “The grownups are going to bounce, run around like mad, and play laser tag, too?”

  “I might,” Geena said with a wink. “There’s also a space where the grownups can hang out while the kids go wild. Win-win.”

  “Big screens with the game. Food. They serve beer,” Geena said with a wink. “We’ll be just fine.”

  “Drink and then drive the kids home,” Brody said. “What a novel idea. And I get shit for serving alcohol. At least I don’t add kids in the mix.”

  “I don’t know, Brody—you’ve got some kids around your place by the looks of your little friend,” Geena said with a wink.

  “Touché,” Brody replied. He gazed around and saw their waiter eyeing him from a drink station. The guy gave him a sultry smile. If he could only remember his name. No worries. I’m sure he’ll remind me later tonight.

  The check arrived, and Brody reached for it. Geena refused, slapping her credit card inside and waving the little leather booklet in the air for their server.

  “At least let me eyeball it and see if his name’s on there,” Brody whispered.

  Geena grinned wickedly. “And make it easier on you? Not a chance.”

  “Really?” Brody asked. “I thought we were friends?”

  “Friends take care of one another,” Geena replied. “Great friends laugh when you trip. You’re falling face-first, buddy. I almost wish I could be in the club tonight to see it happen.”

  “Love you, too, Geena.”

  Geena winked at him.

  It was nearly midnight when Noah stepped off the Greyhound, lone duffel in hand. The stop wasn’t an actual terminal, but an old, dusty sign and a bench placed outside a small, older strip mall that held a Mexican tienda inside the shell of an old 7-11, a Chinese joint, and a T-Mobile with a bright neon sign advertising their name hanging inside the plate glass window. The latter two were closed, but the lights were on at the grocers—to the relief of his bladder. There’d been a bathroom on the bus… but someone had destroyed it midway through Nevada and he’d chosen to hold on as long as he could. He followed the only other passenger to jump off with him into the tienda, bells signaling their arrival. The smell of bleach almost burned his nose and eyes when he first walked in, but hell, at least he knew it was clean.

  “Hola,” the man said behind the counter as he entered. “¿Como estas?”

  “Sorry… I don’t speak Spanish,” Noah said. “English?”

  “Lo siento… no hablo,” the man said, shrugging. “No inglés.”

  Fuck. Picking through his brain for the little bit of Spanish he recalled from high school, he asked one of the only full sentences he remembered. “¿Dónde está el baño?” Where’s the bathroom.

  The older man pointed toward the back. “En la espalda. A la derecha.”

  Noah nodded his head, with no real idea what the guy said. Going by the direction of the pointed finger and the fact he was almost positive ‘derecha’ was ‘right’, he’d look for a door on the right and hope for the best. He soon found one marked ‘Hombres’ and entered. Again, the bleach smell was overpowering and he wondered if someone had been murdered somewhere inside. His bladder plus the big bottle of soda he’d gotten at the last stop really didn’t care.

  Before he could finish, the knob to the door jiggled.

  “Occupado,” he called out over his shoulder. It jiggled again, and he frowned. “Occupado!”

  The knob stilled, and he finished his business. As soon as his bladder was relieved, his mind was free to consider the next move. Noah was in the middle of nowhere, and he wasn’t a hundred percent sure where he was going. He’d had to ditch his phone or his parents might’ve been able to track where he was. Noah zipped up and washed his hands quickly before opening his duffel. Digging through his bag, he searched for the directions he’d printed out before leaving. He found the paper with his mother’s address, but no map.

  Fuck!

  Had he left it at home? Would his parents find it and realize where he was headed? All he had was an address. An old address that might not be up to date. The phone number he’d found online had been scribbled on the back of the directions.

  Along with his best friend’s phone number. He wouldn’t be able to check in—he didn’t have the numbers memorized.

  I should’ve called her before I left… Fuck, why didn’t I?

  His inner voice chuckled within. Because you’re chicken shit. And an idiot.

  The address would have to be enough. After closing his duffel, he opened the door. No one was waiting to get inside. He frowned, wondering who’d needed inside so bad only moments before. Moving on, he returned to the front counter and eyed the friendly older man. “Um… yo tengo… un map?”

  “Sí, un mapa,” the clerk said, pointing to the newsstand beside him.

  Noah walked over and perused the rows of Spanish language newspapers and magazines—but only saw one map. It showed a chunk of the U.S. where the Greyhound traveled taped to the wall above the newspapers. “Shit.”

  “Can I help?” the guy who’d gotten off the bus was suddenly beside him.

  There was a curious mien to the guy’s eyes—obvious interest. He’d noticed it a few times on their trip, but he’d been too wound up between running away from home and the prospect of meeting the woman who’d abandoned him face-to-face to think about a quick fuck with a bit of rough trade.

  And rough the guy was, in an almost kinda hot and dangerous aspect. Tousled dark blonde hair. Beard scruff. Tight, well-worn jeans with what appeared to be a decent bulge. Tattoos, though some of them definitely appeared like the prison variety. Strong muscles—the kind that could hold someone up in the air while he thrusted hard.

  Or choke you to death behind the store.

  “You from around here?” Noah asked.

  “Not exactly… but I’ve picked up a little Spanish here and there, so I could help… maybe.”

  Noah dug the address out of his pocket and handed it over. “Can you ask him
where this is?”

  The man wandered closer to the counter. “Él necesita direcciones…” He offered the scrap of paper. “Aquí.”

  “Ahh,” the clerk said. Rapid Spanish directions were rattled off between them and the scrap of paper returned. Noah watched as the two men spoke—and for once he wished he’d paid better attention in class. A few words here and there made sense, but on a whole, he got pretty much nothing.

  “He said to take a left outside the door and it’s on the other side of town. Take another left when you see the big church with a bell and the community is on the right. He also said it’s about fifteen miles. You got a ride coming?”

  “No,” Noah said too quickly. He paused, realizing he’d told the man he was all alone out in the middle of nowhere at nearly midnight. Smooth move.

  A smile played over the man’s lips. “Maybe a cab? If this place has cab service? We seem to be out in the sticks here.”

  “I don’t have any money left,” Noah murmured, lying. He didn’t have much left, but unlike the last question, he was smart enough not to announce the fact to a complete stranger. “Thanks for the directions. I appreciate the help.”

  “No problema,” the guy said with a wicked grin.

  He returned the guy’s smile though he sensed he shouldn’t.

  With a wave to both men, he exited the tienda. Little bells over the door jingled as the door opened and closed. Remembering the directions, he took a left—but didn’t get far before he was stopped.

  “Hey!” Mr. Greyhound stood in the open doorway before slowly jogging a bit closer. “I could… get you a ride. But it would cost you,” the man said after leaning a little closer, his voice growing deeper and huskier.

  The light from the inside of the tienda washed over his devilish features and caused him to look all the more dangerous. Noah’s gut twisted, sensing he wasn’t safe.

  “Cost me? I said I don’t have any money.”

  The man inched closer, closing the gap. A glimmer in his eye changed… and Mr. Rough Trade transformed into Mr. Dangerous Trade. “There are other ways to pay.”

  “You just showed up on a bus… which would lead me to believe you don’t have a vehicle.”