Page 7 of Pointy Ears and Purple Glitter
Groaning, Tynan let go of the catch. “I felt buzzed for the first time in my life. Fine. We’ll go into the office first – it’s business hours so Malik could have humans around, other people working with him, and that sort of thing. But we’ll both go this afternoon. No dashing off and telling stories about me before I get the chance to talk to him myself. Sparky,” he warned whenthat gleam in Sparky’s eyes didn’t dull at all. “We’ll go together. Later. All right?”
“Fine.” Sparky ruffled his feathers and then hopped onto Tynan’s shoulder. “I need to do some YouTube research anyway. I want to find out what this social media platform business is all about. I seriously think it could help your business.”
“I don’t need it,” Tynan said, although at the same time he was thinkingI need all the help I can get.But it wasn’t his business he needed help with.
Chapter Five
The next day, the workshop was very busy, something Malik was thankful for. He’d had barely any sleep, constantly thinking about the fae he had met the night before. Although it was difficult to know what was upsetting him more.
On the one side, his mate – and yes, in Malik’s head, they were very definitely mates even if Tynan didn’t know that yet – was a concern with his erratic magic. Not being able to glamor his ears made Tynan a target, even without the stunning looks and a talking bird as a companion.
The other matter was more personal and pressing, and one of the few times Malik cursed being a shifter. It would seem the stories he’d heard through the years were true. He could not get his damn cock to go down, no matter what he did. The moment the image of Tynan’s face appeared in his head –who am I kidding, it never left– Malik’s cock reminded him of the fundamentals of claiming a mate. A rough night in other words.
Ian’s chuckle as he arrived the following morning reminded Malik of another little matter he’d forgotten to take care of – the glitter on the pavement. Not a typical thing found among the discarded beer cans, take-out wrappers, and cigarette butts, Malik usually swept up every morning.
Fortunately, for Malik at least, by the time Ian actually came into the workshop, Malik was busy talking to a customer who’d come to pick up the truck he’d finished the night before.
That first customer was just the start, with people coming in and out for the next four hours. Whether dropping off or picking up, Malik’s regulars liked to talk to him, and usually Malik didn’t mind. Part of his reputation came from the personal attention he gave each customer and their vehicles.
He’d decided to specialize in older cars about a decade before, determined not to get caught up trying to fix disposable, modern cars that were rendered useless the moment something went wrong with one of the many computers apparently necessary for getting the driver from point A to point B. He was a mechanic, and he fixed mechanical motors – a skill his customers appreciated.
Unfortunately, the chat side of things wasn’t as easy as Malik usually found it. “You’re looking tired,” one man said just before lunch, slapping Malik on his shoulder. “You might have to take on more mechanics to give you a hand.”
“Ian’s great, and I don’t need anyone else in here.” Malik tried to stay focused. He yawned and quickly covered his mouth with his hand. “Business is good. There’re just a lot of people dragging their older wagons out of their garages in preparation for the warmer months at the moment.”
“Like me.” The customer had laughed. “No point in driving a convertible when the wind’s cold enough to freeze your balls off. Maybe think about taking a vacation.” He got in his car, and Malik carefully closed the driver’s door for him.
“Don’t forget to keep an eye on those oil levels, and if you notice any drips on the driveway, bring it right back.” Malik tapped the side of the door before standing back.
“Never had to do that yet. You know how to look after my baby.” The customer was still smiling as he left. Peeling a couple of twenty-dollar notes from the roll the customer had given him, Malik flashed them in Ian’s direction. “Lunch time – I’ll just have my usual burger – three of them – and whatever you want for yourself.”
“Best boss ever.” Ian straightened, brushed off his overalls, and hurried over, snatching the money on his way past.
“Only one soda,” Malik reminded him as Ian ran out the door, but he shook his head as he went and stashed the rest of the money in his old till, where it belonged.He’s going to come back with the biggest soda cup they have.
/~/~/~/~/
“I see the gremlins were so impressed at fixing that truck last night, they threw their own little party outside. Did you see the state of the pavement this morning? I’ve never known you to throw glitter bombs. I found traces of that stuff all the way down the street.”
Ian was back with their lunch order, and they were both seated behind the reception counter in their small front office, packages strewn across the table. “If there was a party, I didn’t hear any of it.”
Malik quickly munched on his burger. Despite having to stay hidden in a human world, Malik tried to lie as little as possible. That’s why he let Ian make up his little fantasies, wondering how some cars got fixed quicker than others.
He also never discussed what went on outside of the workshop at night. Ian didn’t need to know. He was a really good worker, who had a mam who loved him. Malik’s agreement with Ian’s mam was that Ian would only work during daylight hours. It made things a bit difficult in the winter months, when the days were a lot shorter, but Malik really didn’t mind.
Unfortunately, Ian was also persistent. “I don’t know how you could miss something going on outside in the middle of the night,” Ian said, shoving his burger papers to one side and slurping on a Coke that was in a cup bigger than his head. “Actual glitter, Boss, big flakes too, not the tiny dusty stuff.”
“I was working, then I was sleeping. There was nothing unusual about my night.” Malik shrugged. “Probably someone got theirhands on some party supplies, and the bag broke. Just try not to track it in here.”
“I didn’t step in it and checked the bottom of my boots before coming in.” Ian took a long slurp of his soda. “I wouldn’t have noticed it except it was purple. Like bright purple. Somehow,” he added, pointing his cup in Malik’s direction. “I just don’t see the people who haunt these dark streets at night being the type to buy purple glitter party supplies.”
“The only reason it’s dark around here is because too many idiots keep knocking out the streetlights,” Malik grumbled, keen to talk about anything else except glitter. His cock was getting an unnatural attachment to hearing the word. “I call about it every freaking week, but the last person I spoke to said that no one can be bothered replacing the bulbs anymore. Apparently, they don’t have the budget for it, which surprised the hell out of me given how much I pay in taxes.”
“Have you ever thought about moving?” Ian asked. “I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but your customers would follow you anywhere. Have you thought about a workshop somewhere that’s a little bit more lit up at night?”
Malik chuckled. “I’m happy here. I bought this place fair and square because I could afford it. No one messes with us – they tried back when I first moved in here, but that issue didn’t last. We don’t get mucked about because the gangs around here see the size of me and want to wet themselves if they have to have anything to do with me. That’s fine. I can live with that. It’s not like any of them have any vintage cars we service anyway. Face it, during the day, this place is as good as anywhere else. After dark, I have solid bolts on the garage doors.”
“Fair enough, I suppose. That’s probably why the gremlins like you.” Ian ripped open the wrapper of a large cookie. Malik frowned when he saw it.
