Page 12 of Touch of Innocence
SIX
Maybe he should be proud of himself. It had been three days, almost half a week, and Gunner hadn’t fucked anything up. Other than that one slip where he’d let Sam kiss him again, where he, let’s face it, had pretty much dared Sam to kiss him, he had kept himself under control.
The phone calls had been made. Chad had been asking around, but so far, everyone was keeping Gunner’s secret. His job in Austin was safe, waiting for him to get there. It probably always would be, to be honest, because from what Gunner had heard, there was some pretty high turnover there.
In short, he had himself some breathing room, as long as he didn’t mess it up. He had a place to live, regular meals, and work. The American Dream. Too bad he couldn’t keep any of it, though it actually surprised him how much he wanted to.
At least he’d managed to keep his own grabby hands to himself when it came to Sam. The kid was the last person on the planet that Gunner should get involved with, and that was saying something because he really shouldn’t be getting with anyone. Not as long as his life was so unstable. And really, what were the chances that it would ever be anything else?
At least Sam seemed to be on the same page as him on this one. The younger man stayed away from Gunner, for the most part, except when he couldn’t help it. Even then, he always made sure that someone else was around. Or almost always, anyway, which suited Gunner just fine.
There was something about those sweet, desperate kisses that drove Gunner wild. Made it impossible to think about how careful he needed to be. After all, a one-night stand might be fine, but Sam didn’t exactly seem like the one-night stand sort of guy.
Oh, yeah. And he hated Gunner, and Gunner hated him right back. There was that tiny little detail, too.
At least he’d been helping around Mike’s shop. The backlog of cars was half cleared out already, and Gunner had already learned a ton. He seemed to have a talent for working with his hands—only he had never really realized it until he had gotten the chance to try. Not fully, anyway.
“Someday I’m gonna get my hands on that beauty,” Gunner murmured, not really realizing that he’d spoken out loud until he heard Mike laughing. Sam was around, too, doing an oil change and actually more or less doing it right, this time. Not that Gunner was watching.
“Don’t count on it, kid,” Mike said, smirking a little, but there was an undertone of warning in his voice as he laid his hand on the sheet which covered his pride and joy, the Jaguar. Gunner knew, even just from his few days around this joint, that Mike would pretty much die for that car.
Who could blame him? It was a beautiful car. Gunner’s fingers itched to touch it, to drive it, to listen to the purr of the engine. But somehow, Mike didn’t seem that interested in letting Gunner try. No shock there.
Shadow wandered over, sniffing at Gunner’s fingers and then licking them. Gunner leaned down and gave the sweet dog some scratches behind his ears, making the black lab sit down and blink his trusting, lovely golden brown eyes at Gunner.
He was a good dog. Gunner had tried to keep his distance, because what point was there in getting attached? But Shadow was the sort of dog who wanted to make friends with everyone, it seemed, and it turned out that it was just pretty much impossible for Gunner to resist those big, pleading eyes.
“Shadow, heel,” Sam commanded, and Gunner rolled his eyes. Sam’s pettiness really didn’t seem to have any limits. He was constantly calling his dog back whenever Shadow showed any interest in Gunner. And when Ruby tried to talk to Gunner, Sam was always right there to distract her, to bring her attention back to him.
It was just ridiculous, the sort of nonsense that let Gunner know he was right to think that he needed to take off as soon as he could.
“Hey, Mike?” Gunner asked as he turned back to the car that he was working on. Mike grunted, which Gunner took to mean that he was listening, so he continued on. “When do you think that part is going to get here, man? Tomorrow?”
“Should be tomorrow,” Mike confirmed, and Sam let out a little huff of air that Gunner was certain was one of relief. The sooner they were out of each other’s hair, the better.
“Okay. Awesome,” Gunner said and then winced as Shadow started to run around the shop, apparently chasing dust motes. Mike wasn’t going to like that, he knew.
“Sam, keep your dog controlled or you can’t bring him to work anymore,” Mike scolded, and Sam reached out, snagging Shadow by his collar and holding him tightly in response.
“It’s not his fault. He’s bored,” Sam protested. He stroked over the dog’s sleek head, and even if Gunner found him to be a pain in the ass, he couldn’t deny that it was cute to see the two of them bonding like that.
Mike turned to look, too, and something softened in his eyes. Gunner had noticed that the guy was pretty much all bark, no bite, acting gruff to cover the teddy bear that he was inside. Gunner liked him a lot, actually, and he was on the growing list of people that Gunner was going to find himself missing by the end of this.
“Take him for a walk,” Mike ordered, turning back to the engine he was tinkering with. “You go with him, Gunner. It’s lunchtime for you both, anyway.”
Gunner rolled his eyes, and he looked at Sam, who was, unsurprisingly, doing the same. It was hardly a secret that they didn’t get along, so Gunner wasn’t sure why Mike would try to toss them together like that. But it probably wasn’t worth fighting over, so he shrugged at Sam and the two of them, plus Shadow, left the shop together.
“Doesn’t he have a leash?” Gunner wondered, because Sam just walked, nothing connecting him to the dog. To be fair, Shadow trotted along at his heels well enough, cheerful and cooperative now that he’d gotten outside, but Gunner wasn’t really used to dogs being walked without leashes.
“Wow.” Sam shook his head, a sort of disgusted wonder on his face. “You really just have to criticize me for everything I do, don’t you? I know how to walk my dog, thanks. I’m not a complete idiot.”
Gunner sighed, his shoulders drooping. No matter what he tried to say to Sam, the touchy young man always took it the worst possible way. Gunner really hadn’t meant to pick a fight, but it seemed like Sam was always ready for one, at least when it came to him.
“Fine, never mind, forget it,” Gunner muttered, pushing his hands into his pockets as he moved through the early afternoon heat. It felt like an oven here, dry and so hot that he could swear he saw it radiating up off of the ground.
The sullen silence stretched between them, and Gunner wanted to break it. But anything that he could think of to say, Sam would surely take offense to. Hell, Gunner was becoming pretty sure that Sam could take offense to the sun rising in the morning, he was just that sort of guy.
So he walked, and he tried not to think of one specific way that he knew he could break the tension between them. It would be so easy just to take him by the hand, tug him behind a tree or a building, and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. But he’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to do anything like that, not anymore.
