Miguel was basically living at Nate’s. Buck and Joey had collected his belongings from the ill-fated studio and delivered them to Nate’s house, where they were now stacked in the living room waiting to be unpacked. Nate insisted, and then kept insisting, that the house was his place now too, which, frankly, Miguel was having a hard time wrapping his head around. Okay, in truth he was having a hard time with the whole thing. He was confused; a whirlwind was happening in his head, a waking dream. A bit like he had been spinning really fast on a merry-go-round for a few minutes too long. The merry-go-round had always been his downfall; he had the childhood scars to prove it.

It was like… he shook his head, trying to clear a path for his thoughts.

Nate had offered, was offering, Miguel everything he had ever wished for and never thought he could have. Nate claimed to want Miguel as he was, messes and all, and wanted to also give Miguel a place—an actual home. He did it so easily, like it was the most logical thing in the world for Miguel to just… make his life with Nate.

Some kind of pollen or something was in the air; his eyes kept watering this morning, forcing him to swipe at them as he walked along. He’d snuck out, leaving Nate a note about where he was going but wanting to visit Buck on his own—and he had remembered his new cell phone. The night before, after they’d returned from Otto’s, he and Nate had fallen asleep after making each other come at least twice. Nate, Miguel knew now, slept like the dead after sex. Nate was such an intense person, seeing him relaxed in sleep felt like a gift.

He rounded the corner, and Swanfeldt’s came into view. Seeing the sign and thinking about how the business had grown over the past year made Miguel’s heart swell with pride for Buck. He’d had a hand in that, and it was one of the things he was proud of in his life. They were finally going to expand into the space next door. Buck would be able to take on more restoration projects if he wanted. It was all good.

It was early, but Miguel knew Buck would be there. He always was during the summer and when his husband worked a night shift. If Buck stayed home, Joey would flit around the house instead of getting the sleep he needed. He peered through the small window in the front door, and the light in Buck’s office was lit, as he’d figured it would be. He tapped on the door.

“Hey! What are you doing here? I thought I gave you the day off. I don’t want you reinjuring yourself. Kevin is out today, probably trying to get Angel to invite him to the Booking Room’s summer picnic.” Buck led the way back into his office, where it looked like he had been doing some paperwork. “I’m glad you stopped by, though. I had something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Last time you wanted to ‘talk,’ it was to inform me I would be your best man.”

Buck laughed. “True, I forgot about that.” He shuffled the papers together and put them to the side of his desk. “Coffee?”

“Is it today’s?” That was an experience Miguel never wanted to repeat.

“One time, one time, I heat up old coffee and I never hear the end of it,” Buck groused.

“Yeah, coffee sounds good.” Miguel glanced at the other chair. The one Buck mostly used for stacking boxes of parts and old mail on. Buck moved the stuff to the floor so Miguel could sit before handing him a cup of coffee. The warm mug was a comfort in his hand.

Buck pulled his chair out from behind the desk, sat down, and put his booted feet up in the space he’d made. “So, you first. What’s up?” Buck was no dummy; he knew something was going on.

Where to start? It was as if Miguel’s mind had turned into a frightened pack of mice. His thoughts fled in all directions, and he wasn’t fast enough to catch a single one.

“Uhh…” His voice cracked, and a weird choking noise escaped his throat.

Buck leaned toward him, brows furrowed, concern in his searching gaze. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No,” Miguel rasped before clearing his throat to continue, “I mean yes, I mean Nate, uh…” Jesus Christ, why couldn’t he just say it? A little voice whispered that if he said it out loud the words would evaporate—not Miguel’s words, but Nate’s words. That somehow the past twenty-four hours would turn out to be a dream. No marriage proposal in a sex store.

Funny, it was that thought that got him going again. Not even he could make up a marriage proposal in Otto’s Erotica, and he had Otto as a witness.

“Miguel?”

“Nate asked me to marry him.” Miguel was barely able to push the words out.

“He did?” Buck beamed, standing to pull Miguel up and into a gigantic hug. “That’s great! It is great, isn’t it?” He pulled back, holding Miguel by the shoulders and looking carefully at his face, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Well, if Buck figured that out, Miguel sure hoped he would fill him in.

“I… I think so?” He sagged against his friend. The emotions of the past day had worn him out. “I spent the night watching him sleep. I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with me.”

Buck squeezed him again—there wasn’t much better than a hug from Buck except one from Nate—then let him go to sit back in his own chair.

“Tell me everything. If I don’t have all the details when I see Joey after work, he’s going to be calling.”

“Your annoying husband is going to be calling anyway.”

Buck just looked at him, waiting.

Now that he had said the words once, they weren’t quite so scary to say again. “When we were out shopping yesterday, Nate asked me to marry him.”

“Where? I need all the details. ‘Shopping’ is just going to make Joey call you to find out exactly where you were shopping.”

Miguel took a healthy sip of his coffee before answering. “We were at Otto’s.” Miguel rolled his eyes at Buck’s chuckle. “We were doing some other shopping, so I thought I’d introduce Nate to Otto and get a few supplies. The next thing I know, he’s down on one knee asking me to marry him.”

There was a rap on the front door, startling them both. Buck jumped up and glanced at the wall clock. “Crud, I totally forgot. That’s Adam, he’s stopping by to take a look at the car.”

Miguel and Adam didn’t hang out in the same social circles, and the last time he’d seen Adam, Miguel had been wrapped in a blanket suffering shock from falling from the roof of that house to the balcony. It hadn’t been as bad as it could have, because Miguel had grabbed the edge of the rooftop on the way down, slowing his fall. The balcony had then broken his fall and his arm. Angel hadn’t panicked; he’d called 911 and covered both Nate and Miguel with blankets from the bedroom. Adam had arrived on the scene, an avenging angel of sorts, and taken care of the rest.

Buck had been working for over a year on muscle cars Adam had discovered on his dad’s property. This one was about ready to go. Rumor had it Adam was going to auction them all off and donate the proceeds to the local LGBTQIA teen community center.

He heard Buck open the door and the two of them chatting as they headed back to the office. Really? Buck was going to make him talk to an officer of the law in the middle of an emotional crisis? Some friend.

“Miguel, how are you?” Adam preceded Buck into the office. There wasn’t anywhere for him to sit, so he perched against the desk while Buck leaned against the doorjamb. Miguel didn’t know Adam very well, but if he was donating money to the teen center on top of catching bad guys, he couldn’t be all that scary, right?

“I’m freaking out because Nate asked me to marry him and to move in. Not in that order. He’d already asked me to move in, pretty much.” Adam raised his eyebrows but didn’t interrupt. “I don’t get why I’m having this reaction; I know he’s nothing like Justin.”

Adam grinned. “Congratulations. Richardson is a solid guy. And you’re right, he’s nothing like Oakes.”

“Well, don’t get excited; we’re doing it at the courthouse.”

“Do I look like I care? I figure Joey got us all off the hook for big parties for a while.”

“You said ‘yes,’ right?” Buck interjected.

“Yes, I said ‘yes.’ That’s not the problem.” The problem was he didn’t know what the problem was. Normally he was the guy handing out advice, and here he was all tied up in a knot because Nate had offered him the world.

Buck looked at him, like he was trying to sort out what was happening inside Miguel’s head. If Buck figured it out, Miguel hoped he let him in on the secret. After a moment, Buck nodded. “Come check out the car with us,” he said. He stood, motioning for Adam and Miguel to follow him.

The 1968 Pontiac GTO was beautiful. Buck had restored it to its original factory paint, a glossy black—he’d restored everything, and it was impossible not to be impressed. Adam whistled his appreciation after Buck pulled off the protective tarp.

“It’s hard to believe it’s the same car.”

“Let’s take her for a spin,” Buck suggested. “See what’s she’s got under the hood.”

“Hell yeah,” Adam muttered reverently.

Buck backed the Pontiac out of the garage, Adam riding shotgun and Miguel in the back for the moment.

None of them spoke while Buck skillfully guided them along the swooping two-lane roads outside of town. They sped past pastoral farmhouses and pasture boundaries marked by white fences. In one spot a line of defunct farming equipment, decades’ worth, formed the demarcation line between properties.

The day was beautiful and only just starting to heat up. None of them spoke, just enjoyed the way the car handled, hugging the road and effortlessly taking the hills as they came along.

Eventually Buck pulled over. “Adam, your turn.”

Adam drove sedately for a short time, getting used to the clutch and the powerful engine before taking them out past the old lumber mill and then west toward the flats where there was a wildlife refuge along the edge of the bay. Soon he had her flying along, the engine still not breaking a sweat. As they drove, Miguel felt the tension seeping out of his system. His worries swept out the open car windows to dissipate in the atmosphere. He felt like he could breathe and think—and know.

How had Buck sensed this was exactly what Miguel needed, a reminder that he wasn’t trapped? The world was out there. He had friends, a job, and now… a lover. Miguel let out a huge lungful of oxygen. For the first time since Otto’s, when Nate surprised him, he felt like was on steady ground. Everything was right. Most especially Nate Richardson.

Miguel smiled.

Forty minutes after leaving, they pulled back into the garage. Kevin and Dom were opening the doors and swarmed the car like a bunch of groupies as Adam parked.

“Guys, guys, you’ve seen it for over a year,” Buck admonished, shooing them away before he and Adam put the tarp back over the car. “She’s good to go. Lemme know when you want to pick her up.”

“Right.” Adam turned to Miguel. “Again, congratulations. I’m happy for the both of you.” He shook Miguel’s good hand before sketching a wave to Buck and striding out to his very boring four-wheel-drive wagon.

Miguel’s pocket buzzed. After fishing around one-handed, he pulled it out to see a text from Nate.

Home soon?

Smiling, he texted back: Yes.

 

Buck caught him by the shoulder before he left. “One more thing?”

“Sure.”

Buck looked sheepish, rocking back on his heels with his hands in the pockets of his coveralls. “Before I tell you, I want you to promise you will seriously consider what I have to say.”

Kevin and Dom must have known what was up, because they had gleeful grins on their face and were giggling like twelve-year-olds.

“Okaay. I’m listening.”

“Joey and I have talked about it, and I want to offer you a partnership. In the business.” Miguel opened and then shut his mouth as Buck held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “See, Miguel, this was meant to be a family business… and you and Joey, you are my family. I want you to be a part of it, more than just an employee. Don’t give me any crap about money. We’ll draw up papers. Don’t forget I’ve been signing your checks and you lived with us; I have a pretty good idea much you have saved, so money wouldn’t be what would stop you. What do you think?”

What Miguel thought was that his best friend had taken one too many turns around the ill-fated merry-go-round and ended up with a head injury. All he could do was gape. After having Nate propose, this—this was—he didn’t know what to say.

“Well? I mean, if you need to think about it, I understand. But the way I see it, this way we are still family, even if you do go off and get hitched. I’m thinking we can change the name to Swanfeldt & Ramirez or something like that.”

Whatever was blooming must have blown into the shop. Miguel’s eyes got all watery again.

“Dammit, Buck.”

“Is that your way of saying yes?”

“Yes.”

Kevin and Dom whooped, rushing over to hug him. Miguel felt a little like he’d finally been adopted. His heart was full, the emotions overwhelming him again. He squeezed both of them back, planting a sloppy kiss on Kevin’s cheek. He blushed adorably.

“I need to get back to Nate, but—” he tapped Kevin on the chest, “I want to hear all about how things are going with Angel.”

Buck laughed. “Leave the kid alone, Miguel. Hop in Sheila; I’ll give you a ride home.”

A ride home sounded amazing.