No One But You Page 2

  Something had disturbed me around four o'clock, maybe Stacy's restlessness. I turned my head and found him watching me in the moonlight, his eyes brimming with some unvoiced emotion. Under the sheet, his hand found mine, and my need for him seized me in a merciless vise, one I couldn't break free of even had I wanted to. Afterward, we lay in the dark, Stacy tucked into the curve of my body while I struggled to breathe.

  Stacy had always been the one to curl around me.

  Intellectually, I knew as we matured our relationship would develop some different dynamics, but the only time I could remember holding him like that, except immediately after sex when we were too hot, wet and exhausted to move apart, was two years ago when he'd had the flu. That didn't count. I was by no means passive in our relationship, but I tended to defer to my older, wiser lover. Now I wondered if he were sick and not telling me.

  I was poised to do something I never did--sneak a peek at his calendar. The man recorded everything. He wasn't working today, but tomorrow I'd make damn sure to get home before him and look on his computer for doctor appointments.

  Aaron gave me a curious look as I slipped the wide silver band I wore on my left ring finger into my pocket for safekeeping.

  Stacy and I had never exchanged formal vows, but I'd gotten him to wear my ring. It usually kept other men from hitting on him. It didn't seem to stop the ladies, though, but I didn't worry about them. He insisted I take off the ring he'd given me when I worked in the shop, for safety reasons. I wouldn't be working on engines today, but I'd formed the habit and didn't want to break it.

  "Okay, Levi, I have the first segment as gear ratios. This is a three-minute closer, right?"

  I nodded, and Aaron and I went over the script, double-checking we had the right parts on the workbench in the right order. I'd had gear grease on my hands since I could walk. The hard part of doing these segments, for me, was remembering to explain everything in the proper detail. I'd been filming the show for almost three years now, and I still sometimes forgot to slow down.

  The segment went off without a hitch, and we moved on to the longer clips about some of the fancy custom upgrades available on the market these days. Halfway through, with spoilers finished and running boards to go, Stacy walked in, and my concentration snapped.

  Aaron walked over to me, grinning, his voice low. He nodded toward Stacy. "He pulled up in a Z06. Somehow I don't think that car is just wishful phallic symbolism for him."

  I gave my new director a much closer look. Aaron met my gaze, then nodded slightly. Well, this wasn't good. If he tried to cruise Stacy, I'd have to clog up his injectors. I drilled him with my best warning stare. "Oh, it's symbolic all right, but not wishful. He's hung like a Thoroughbred stallion, and if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your mitts off him."

  His brown eyes intensely curious, Aaron gave me a look. "Yours?"

  "Mine. Definitely."

  I watched my dad walk up to Stacy, thankful again they'd become pretty good friends. Both men turned, looked in my direction, exchanged some comment, and laughed. I hated when they did that because neither ever told me what they said. Stacy meandered over, and I introduced Aaron to him. Stacy shook his hand.

  "Aaron, welcome to The Chop Shop, the show and the garage."

  Something in Stacy's body language told me he'd pegged Aaron for gay--and didn't like it any more than I did for the equal, yet opposite, reason that he didn't want Aaron cruising me. He smiled politely at my new director. "What time does Levi get to break for lunch?"

  "Just as soon as we finish lighted running boards."

  I groaned. "That's about an hour at the screw-up rate I'm going today. Can you stick around?"

  "Sure. Luke and I have a few things to go over."

  I snorted. "Right. You and Dad are going to his office to drink coffee and talk about me. I know you two." I shooed him on his way. The sooner I finished with flat diamond plate versus tubular, and lit versus unlit, the sooner I could get a better take on how Stacy felt today.

  Aaron gave a few directions to the sparse crew, and I smiled into the camera. Some days I wished I were just a plain mechanic again. We were almost finished when Stacy came back.

  "Levi, I'm sorry, but I have to go. There's a problem at the office, and Jeremy's nowhere to be found. Here." He dropped the keys to the Corvette in my hand. "I need your pickup because I may have to drive out to the site on Old Canal Road, and I don't want to rip the bottom out of the 'Vette. Why don't you take Aaron out for lunch to welcome him?"

  Shit.

  I looked at Aaron and didn't wait for an answer as I took Stacy's arm and headed for the door. "I'll be right back."

  Outside, I fished my keys out of my pocket and handed them to Stacy. Standing by my truck in the bright sunshine, he didn't look sick at all. He looked sexier than ever. I shouldn't let him out of the house in those crotch-hugging jeans. So what was this strange vibe I was picking up again today?

  "Stacy, are you okay?"

  His blue eyes sparkled. "You weren't that hard on me last night, lover."

  I rolled my eyes. "Nice try to distract me, but it didn't work. Are you feeling alright?"

  He sighed. "I'm still tired from the trip, and I'm pissed that Jeremy...is off being Jeremy, when he knows I needed today to get back into this time zone."

  "Oh, so old man Mayfield's trying to get laid? That's funny. You're not keeping something from me, are you?"

  Stacy hooked his fingers under my belt and pulled me closer. "Would I do that? Your new director is sorta cute."

  I raised my hands skyward and rolled my eyes. "God save me. He thinks you're cute, too. I told him you're hung like a horse and the whole thing is mine. Now don't force me to have to snip off both your dicks."

  "Ouch." He laughed softly. The old, cocky Stacy grinned. "He's watching. You gonna kiss me?"

  I backed him against the pickup, thigh-to-thigh and pelvis-to-pelvis. My cock started to swell. The man always had that effect on me. "You're too eager, Stacy James."

  "You've got some nerve, calling me eager."

  My mouth slanted across his. Stacy's lips opened; his tongue licked into mine. I pressed closer, wanting to crawl inside his skin with him. He relaxed in my arms, and my hips surged forward. Stacy broke off the kiss, his hands steady on my ribs.

  "Whoa, lover. Last night not enough to hold you over?"

  "I never get enough of you. I keep telling you that."

  "It's great to hear, too." Stacy gave me a little shake. "You need to get back to work, and I need to go."

  I groaned. It wasn't fair. I had to go face my new gay director with a hard-on, while Stacy could drive off and no one would tease him over his. Except me. And I would, later tonight.

  "Get outta here, old man. And bring home something hot and spicy in little bitty boxes for dinner. Surprise me."

  Stacy nodded, then cupped my cheek. I opened the truck door for him, closing it after he hopped in. Aaron yelled out the door at me. I mouthed, "'Bye," at Stacy and turned away. I whipped back around as Stacy laid down a long, squealing patch of rubber with my truck. The guys inside the shop howled with glee, including Aaron, only Aaron didn't know I could count on one hand the times I'd known Stacy to burn off a set of tires like that.

  "Damn, he's hot for an older guy, Levi."

  I grinned at Aaron. "Yeah, he's smokin'. Let's get this clip wrapped, then can I treat you to lunch?"

  My director looked rather pleased I'd actually taken Stacy's suggestion and asked. He nodded.

  We finally finished the segment, and I left Aaron with his crew while I went out back to find my father and tell him I was going out for lunch. He had a customer and motioned for me to join them.

  "What do you think?" He handed me the title.

  I looked at the wreckage of an orange 1969 GTO. A Judge, no less. The hood and front fenders were mangled, and the engine had been pushed into the firewall. This one would take a lot of work, inside, outside and under the hood. "How much?"
<
br />   The seller looked at me, then at my dad. "I'd like a grand for it."

  Dad didn't blink, and it would have surprised me if he had. I hoped my father added a few hundred to the asking price to be fair because we could clear at least twenty grand on that car at the southern auction.

  "Where'd you find it, if you don't mind my asking?"

  I was curious about that, too. The tile appeared to be legitimate, but once or twice we'd been burned on wrecks.

  "It was mine. My first car, actually." He got out his wallet, and I compared the names on his license and the title. "I was young and stupid. Had it three months and did this to it. Daddy had 'em drop it out behind the barn because I was headed to Nam. It's been there for forty years." The man sighed heavily. "Daddy died, and I have to sell his place, so the car has to go, too."

  My father looked at me. I nodded and Dad closed the deal. "We'll take it. Come inside and I'll write the check."

  I made a quick decision. "I want to feature this car in the next restoration series. Do you have any old pictures of it intact?"

  The fellow perked up. "Sure do. I'll bring them over. It'll be great to see her restored."

  "I'll make sure you get the unedited DVDs of the work." I shook his hand. "I gotta go, Dad. I'm taking Aaron to lunch."

  Dad didn't say anything, but the uneasy look he gave me stayed with me. What the fuck was wrong with him now? I went back through the shop, motioning for Aaron to hurry up. He dropped into the passenger's seat of the Corvette with an appreciative whistle.

  "Man, I've never had the pleasure of a ride in one of these before."

  I turned the key and engine roared to life. "Yeah, this is a sweet machine. Pizza or burgers?"

  "Pizza. The segments look good. My packet says we need to choose a restoration project soon."

  I slowed for a curve, then accelerated. God, the 'Vette was a smooth ride. Could I really accept it from Stacy on top of everything else he'd done for me? Anything he did that came close to sugar daddy stuff bugged the hell out of me. If I said yes, he'd simply have it titled over to me.

  "We're doing a 1969 Pontiac GTO Judge. Dad just bought the shell this morning."

  Aaron bristled a bit. "Oh? That's, like, your decision?"

  I shrugged. "Beats me, but I wanna do that car bad. It's got a great history. The previous owner is local so, if you hustle, you can get some footage of the weeds it's rusted away in for the last forty years." I eased into a parking place at my favorite pizza joint.

  This probably hadn't been my best idea. I recognized two of the cars. Next thing, Stacy would be hearing gossip, even though he'd suggested this little jaunt with Aaron. I reached into my pocket and slipped on my ring.

  "Levi, I need to okay the project. There's paperwork I need to sign and get in. We'll need a timeline so we can break down the shows. We don't want to duplicate too much of the work either."

  I waved at one of my buddies and his girlfriend as I slid into a booth. Aaron sat across from me.

  "Aaron, this is a great car. You'll have me rebuilding the engine, Uncle Danny working the body, and Dad on the interior, all going at once. And you can follow this one to the auction. We've never done an auction segment."

  He agreed, his capitulation surprising me. I was glad because I knew this restoration would be difficult, more so with the time constraints to meet filming deadlines. Even though the shows wouldn't air for almost a year, we had to get them finished and to the network months in advance.

  The waitress arrived and I ordered us a large pepperoni and mushroom with a pitcher of soda to go with it. Aaron looked out the window. When she left with the order, he looked at me. My heart sank. I'd seen that interested look before, just before some guy tried to hit on me.

  "So, Levi, are you and Stacy, like, married?"

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  * * *

  That wasn't exactly the question I'd expected, but I knew it was a prelude to it. If I answered carefully, maybe Aaron wouldn't pursue things, including Stacy or me.

  "We're very committed to each other." I didn't feel like telling him that Stacy and I were disgusted with the marriage laws, but that, with Stacy's background, we kept away from politics.

  My hand rested on the table. He tapped my ring with his middle finger. "What's this then? Stacy wear one, too?"

  I grinned at him. "Yeah, he does. I got tired of beating the guys off him every time I let him out of the house, so I convinced him to wear my ring."

  Aaron laughed. "That's funny, but I believe you. How'd you meet him?"

  That old sheepishness came over me. I'd been such a hothead back then. Stacy used to walk around the house muttering, "Young, dumb and full of cum," at me. And he was right. I thought I'd mellowed out, at least a bit. I hadn't heard him say it in a long time.

  "Well, Aaron, I was about to get the shit kicked out of me, and Stacy stepped in and saved me. Decked this big motherfucker with one punch." I made a few gestures of how big the man had been. "I asked Stacy out, and five years later, we're still happy together."

  The waitress brought our pitcher, and he poured for us.

  "So, you and he don't ever step out? You don't, like, have one of those 'open' arrangements?"

  "Nope. We never cheat."

  I hoped that would satisfy him, but it didn't. Maybe the pizza would come soon, and he'd be too busy eating to keep after me. He seemed like a nice guy, but way too persistent about this subject. If he wanted to talk shop, I'd wear out his ears.

  "Ever been tempted? C'mon, Levi, a great looking guy like you must have a lot of opportunities."

  Okay, it was time to lay it out for him.

  "Opportunities, yes. Desire for anyone but Stacy? No. I've never met another man who I got the urge for."

  Aaron watched me, his gaze level and calculating. I wasn't lying to him. He must have made up his mind to believe me because he turned the conversation back to business, asking for a few more details about the GTO. The pizza came, and we wolfed it down, conversation set aside for the time being.

  Back at The Chop Shop, Aaron and I looked at tomorrow's schedule. One of the cameramen went out back and took some footage and stills of the GTO. The crew and Aaron left about four o'clock, and I went in my cubbyhole to call Stacy. Too bad we hadn't added office space when we'd enlarged the building three years ago to accommodate filming the show.

  Stacy's cell phone flipped straight to voice mail, so I called his office. Stuart, his executive assistant, hadn't heard from him since before lunch. Out of curiosity, I asked Stuart if he knew where Jeremy was. He said he didn't, but I knew by his tone he suspected, and Jeremy wasn't with Stacy, filling his head full of ideas about what I did while he was away on business trips.

  I still had two hours of prime workday left, so I slipped on a pair of coveralls and crawled in, around, and under the GTO for a quick look. Damn, this was going to be a job and a half, but worth every bit of the aggravation. Just before I left for the day, I went online and ordered the decals, the very last thing we'd put on the GTO when it was finished.

  Yep, she'd purr like a kitten when I got her bored, stroked, and blueprinted.

  * * * *

  I found Stacy working in the back yard when I got home. He loved to putz around his garden, and I loved to watch his body flex as he moved. It still amazed me he had designed and planted the entire landscaping himself after he bought this place thirteen years ago.

  His T-shirt was soaked with sweat, his dungarees were dirty up to the knees, and he looked sexier than ever. He finished spreading a bag of mulch around, then leaned back on his heels.

  I plopped down on a chaise lounge and waved at him. "You know, Stace, we have a gardener."

  He shook his head. "We had a gardener. There was a message on the recorder from his daughter. They took his gall bladder out yesterday. We're on our own for the rest of the summer."

  I glared at him. "Don't think you're going to be out in the afternoon heat working every day, buste
r. I've got go-fers at the shop always looking for extra cash. They can mow the grass."

  Stacy rose to his feet, strong and graceful as the black belt fighter he used to be. "Well, send one of them over here tomorrow. You pay 'em. I'm paying the gardener for the rest of the season. He'll need the cash." He plopped down on the end of my chair and wiped his sweaty face with the tail of his grungy T-shirt. "How was your lunch with Aaron?"

  "I owe you for that, old man. He came this close to hitting on me." I held up my hand, thumb and index finger about an inch apart.

  "He's a cute fellow. Maybe you should have hit on him."

  Hitting sounded like a good idea. Maybe I should hit Stacy. I did not want to have this conversation with him again.

  "Drop the subject, Mr. James. It's fucking annoying. We bought the wreckage of a 1969 GTO Judge today. It's got a 400ci engine, Ram Air III. The bitch will crank out more than the factory three hundred sixty-six ponies easy when I'm done. I'm gonna feature the work for next season."

  Stacy grinned at me. He loved the sound of a well-tuned V-8 engine as much as I did. "Cool. I always wanted one of those. Can I help you tear it down?"

  I thought of him working around Aaron. My director would probably have a permanent hard-on. It would serve him right for not believing he wasn't on the menu, for Stacy or me.

  I grinned at him. "Sure, you can help. I'll even let you test-drive it. I already ordered the decal and stripes."

  "There was another phone message, this one for you. The magazine wants to know if you've made up your mind to do an interview with them."

  More than a few gay publications had approached me for interviews, and I always refused. I told them the show was about the cars, not a gay mechanic being a partner in a successful business and doing national cable television. My family expressed their relief my face wouldn't be on the cover of "that sort" of magazine. I understood why they'd feel that way, but my cowardice in not standing up and explaining to them I needed to do it so other, younger gays could see being homosexual didn't mean you couldn't do what you loved to do bothered me.