“We’ll look ridiculous. A couple of guys with only two hands between them shopping at an adult toy store,” Nate muttered, mostly under his breath. He wasn’t certain how he had agreed to Miguel’s suggestion that they stop in at Otto’s.
They’d been holed up at Nate’s for the past week continuing to recover. Sleeping, eating, and watching bad TV. Natalia had been by several times with grocery deliveries, and Joey James had shown up on one of his days off and spent a couple hours making a mess in Nate’s kitchen, but the results were delicious. This morning Miguel had woken up with a mission. One that was going to have Nate bursting into flame from embarrassment.
“Otto’s carries good stuff. We’ll find something. It will be fun, grasshopper.”
“Again with the grasshopper.”
“Your New Jersey is showing.” Miguel shot him an amused grin.
Nate supposed it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to go inside the “adult entertainment store” with his lover/partner, the world-changing, undefinable Miguel Ramirez.
“Fine.”
Miguel had driven, because while his left arm was still in a sling, he could steer with his right as long as they were driving an automatic. Nate’s right shoulder was still wrapped, and while he’d graduated to a soft cast on his arm, everything was still a pain in the butt. The physical therapist and the doctor both said he was healing as fast as could be expected.
Not. Fast. Enough.
Note to self: do not get ambushed by a steroid freak with a shovel. He was lucky not to have permanent damage; as far as they could tell he would make a complete recovery. The initial headaches were gone, as was the lack of equilibrium. At his last appointment, his doctor had declared him healthy but recommended no more blows to the head. Miguel was expected back at work in the next few days mentoring Kevin—thank goodness, because a bored Miguel was dangerous. Buck had laughed when Nate complained about his antics at home, commenting that he had brought it on himself, insisting that Miguel stay at his house while they both recovered.
Otto’s was tucked amongst a mixed-use area on the north end of town. A few small strip malls lingered out this way, with requisite crumpled asphalt parking lots and long-dead weeds huddled along the edges, alongside grimy gas stations and a random beauty parlor that had to date from the 1960s. The neighborhood had once been residential, but the state had built a highway through this part of town, and the neighborhood had transitioned from residential to small businesses, most of the businesses operating out of old homes. As did Otto’s.
A red neon sign blinked on and off, announcing Otto’s Erotica and Fun Palace to all who drove this stretch of highway. Together, Nate and Miguel climbed the steps to the front door. It was propped open with a wooden chair with a handwritten Help Wanted sign taped to it. A bell jingled as they passed across the threshold.
A man with rakish dark curls popped up from behind the cash register. His cheeks pink from exertion (Nate hoped), he grinned at them and came out from behind the counter to hug Miguel.
“How’re ya doing, my man? I heard there was all sorts of trouble a few weeks ago.”
“Otto,” Miguel stepped out of Otto’s embrace, “this is Nate, my boyfriend.”
Now Otto grinned so wide Nate thought he might pop something.
“No way. Somebody finally pinned you down? And look, you have matching injuries. I think that’s going a bit too far.” He reached for Nate’s good hand, shaking it. “It’s great to meet the person who’s going to make an honest man out of Miguel.”
Nate found himself grinning back at the mischievous man. There was something inviting and fun about him.
“I’m not sure honest is the right term.” Nate waggled his eyebrows.
“What’s with the help wanted?” Miguel asked.
Otto grimaced. “Kira’s moving to Seattle for school. I need to break in someone new. Someone who’s not going to scare my shyer customers away.”
Miguel and Nate looked at each other. He knew they were thinking the same thing. This quiet shop might be just what Angel needed after all he’d been through.
“I may have somebody for you. Let me check, and I’ll let you know.” Miguel said.
Otto grinned again. “That’d be great.” He nodded toward the darker interior of his shop. “Check out the sales; I’m clearing out some inventory.” Now it was Otto who waggled his eyebrow. Nate felt way out of his league.
Miguel grabbed Nate’s good hand and dragged him away from Otto, toward the back of the shop.
“Come on, Romeo, let’s see what Otto has for us.”
Nate tried to focus on what Miguel was explaining about the various… items he was looking at, but Nate was distracted by the displays of… dildos? Racks full of condoms, all different types, sizes, and materials. He spotted a small selection of leather masks and harnesses.
“What are those for?” he whispered into Miguel’s ear.
Miguel looked behind Nate to see what he was looking at. “Ah, puppy play. Somehow I don’t think that’s something you’d be into. Maybe; you never know.”
The things Nate didn’t know about sex were going to send him to an early grave caused by mortification. He felt his face flame to a temperature close to that measured on the surface of the sun.
“But I think you will like this.” Miguel picked up a length of silk rope and a book, though Nate couldn’t read the title.
“You want to tie me down?” He tried to get his mind around the thought; it didn’t sound terrible, he supposed.
“No, I figure you might want to tie me down.”
That sent a charge directly to Nate’s libido. A fantasy quickly unfolded where he would have Miguel exactly where he wanted: sweaty, hot, panting and begging. Good god, he hadn’t even considered something like that before, and now he’d already played it out in his head?
“Is that a yes? Of course you’ll need two hands, but I think it could be a lot of fun.” Miguel pressed himself against Nate. Nate had missed this while they were recovering in separate houses, before he’d begged Natalia to drive him to Swanfeldt’s. Not that he’d had much of it before they were both injured, but he’d instantly been addicted to the free way Miguel shared himself with Nate.
The words popped out before he thought them through or even knew they were there waiting to be said. “I’d like to really tie you down.”
“Yeah?” Miguel leaned away from him, looking tousled and sexy. “That’s what these are for.” He jiggled the ropes in his hand.
“I mean with a ring and a ceremony. That kind of tying down. The kind that means I know you will be there at the end of each day. And you know I will be there for you all the time.”
Miguel’s mouth was hanging slightly open, his eyes wide. He shut his mouth. Opened it again. And still didn’t say anything.
Otto materialized out of nowhere, or possibly from the other end of the aisle where he had been eavesdropping. “Did I mishear, or did your boyfriend just propose to you?”
Miguel shut his mouth.
“I did. I think.” Nate nodded.
“Oh. My. God. This is so romantic!” Otto whispered, moisture flooding his eyes. He glanced between the two of them. “I’ll leave you alone. I think Miguel is in shock. I knew it would happen for you someday, baby.” Otto made his way back toward the front of the store, quietly humming the wedding march.
“You don’t have to say anything. I mean, my mouth kind of got away from me. I mean it, though, about the ring and the keeping.”
“It’s usually my mouth that gets me in trouble,” Miguel muttered, looking away to stare at the floor. Nate took the silken rope from Miguel’s hands, hanging it for the moment back on the rack. Gently he grasped Miguel’s chin, tugging upward so Nate could look into his eyes.
Whoever it was that said “Eyes are the window to the soul” had been thinking about someone like Miguel. Here he’d stupidly made a declaration of love in the middle of a sex shop, and Miguel was looking at him like he’d been offered a kingdom but was very much afraid it wasn’t real.
Letting go of Miguel’s chin, Nate got down on one knee. This wasn’t easy with his shoulder and arm all bundled up. Miguel tracked his movement, making a small sound of protest as Nate lurched sideways.
Reaching up, he took Miguel’s hand in his own. “Miguel Ramirez, will you marry me? I’m not a very good catch. I have some issues. But I think between the two of us we could make it pretty damn good. Whaddya think?”
From somewhere behind him, Nate could hear Otto whispering, “Say yes, say yes!” The door chimed, and now he heard Otto rushing over and whispering, “Sorry, we’re closed until Miguel makes up his mind!” The front door shut with a thump.
“My knee is starting to hurt.”
Miguel smiled tenuously, or maybe tentatively was more accurate. He lowered himself down to Nate, touching the side of Nate’s face with his good hand. Nate loved Miguel’s hands, how they were rough from working on cars and yet so very gentle. “You are the best man I have ever met. Maybe the most foolish, but the best.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“Yes, that’s a yes.”
“Whoop!” Otto cheered from the front of the store.
“Can we just go to the courthouse, though? I don’t think I can handle a big thing.”
Otto materialized next to them again, nearly knocking them both over. “Courthouse? Really?” Extending a hand to Nate, Otto helped him get to his feet. Miguel waved him off, standing up on his own.
“Yes, Otto, really. If you want to get married and have a big overdone thing, go out and get your own boyfriend,” Miguel replied. “Or girlfriend.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“I’m better on the sidelines.” Otto looked around at the piles of dildos, condoms, and bejeweled clothing that looked like nothing Nate would ever wear. “It’s safer there.” He smiled weakly. “Congratulations, you two.”
Miguel picked up the rope he’d chosen, handing it to Otto. “Ring this up?” Otto took the small package and headed toward the cash register.
Nate felt his face heat and knew he was blushing like mad. He felt Miguel’s lips brush against the shell of his ear. “Hmmm, I wonder what you’re thinking about…” He was thinking if he didn’t die of embarrassment first, he was going to take Miguel home and see what he could do with one hand.
Turning so he could look Miguel in the eyes again, Nate made sure Miguel knew his proposal hadn’t been a joke or spur of the moment. “I mean it, you know. I want to marry you. Not some caveman ‘You are mine’ crap or to keep you from doing the things you want to do, but to offer myself as a safe place. I will be your safe place.”
“I know.”