CHAPTER 1

River's eyes were sunken from lack of sleep, but he snapped them open, a one-track mind to see the Maserati he'd just finished. He'd put in a nasty three-day marathon to get it done, sending Julian a text the moment he was finished. Even with seven days' lead time on parts, a three-week turnover was a coup. More importantly, he knew the job was flawless. He reclined on the breakroom couch, planning on a quick snooze before Julian came off work.

He awakened in a stunned sense of awareness, Julian towering over him, and a surge of adrenaline coursed through him. "What the fuck?" he shouted, standing up.

Julian held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Sorry, sorry. I knocked. Front's empty." He gestured over his shoulder. "You said I could come by anytime."

"Right, sorry. I just thought it would be later." River rubbed his eyes half asleep and took Julian to the central office. It was noon; his sister Sierra had taken their dad, Tomás, out for lunch. River moved behind the counter to process the payment when Julian suddenly tackled him to the ground.

"What the he—"

"Get down!" Julian's body covered him, his arms over his head and neck. A second after that, glass broke and a brick landed on the floor beside them.

Julian stayed over him for a minute, until he was sure the danger had passed. "Jesus, fuck! What the hell?" he shouted, springing up and running out into the parking lot.

"They're gone a long time ago," River yelled after him, slowly getting up on his feet and following him out. They stood there, looking down the empty street.

Julian turned to him, his face fierce as he scanned River for injuries. "You okay? Christ, that brick would've killed you. You cut?"

River was amazed that he was worried, but he looked at his arms and saw that they were not cut. "I'm fine. Thank you," he answered dryly. The continual pokes were familiar, but a brick was new and frightening.

"Has something like this ever happened before?" Julian asked quietly and with gravity.

"The window, yeah. But the attacks have been going on for around six months now. They're becoming more regular. At least the window is a simpler repair than trying to get dried animal blood off the bay doors.I hope it was animal blood," he added, a morbid consideration.

"What the actual fuck? Why are people doing this?" The words, often so misplaced from Julian's lips, felt surprisingly comfortable now.

"Who knows?" River answered, leading him back inside, the crunch of their feet on the broken glass. "We've always had our hands clean and our heads down." Grabbing a broom from the supply closet, he noticed Julian had a wound on his neck. "Oh, damn. You're bleeding."

Julian looked dazed, so River nodded toward his own neck. "The bathroom's this way."

Julian shrugged off his jacket to enter the room. His broad shoulders, usually hidden under his suits, were impossible to ignore. The dress shirt sleeves bulged around his biceps, and River's breath hitched. He untied his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons, and River, suddenly hot, retreated from the doorway.

"I'm going to fetch some boards to board up the window," he explained, needing space.

Julian grinned, dark eyes meeting River's in the mirror. "I'll be glad to help you after I've decided I won't bleed all over my suit. The rest of the office would have questions.and concerns about covering my dry-cleaning bill." The easy smile weakened River's knees. The thought of Julian's coworkers more concerned about a bill than his well-being turned his stomach inside out.

"Slow down," River told him, his voice sharper than he intended. He reminded himself that Julian was not his type. His previous girlfriends were all giant jocks. That he was a biracial, gay man made him want to be the master one, a bit of machismo imparted to him by his Mexican abuelo. While he hadn't had faith in the overwhelming, brutal elements of the culture, he'd never once been on his knees for any man. But Julian, with his strength and steadfast determination, was making him reassess everything.

Julian bulldozed out of the bathroom on his phone, jacket draped over his arm, tie clutched in one hand, and top few buttons of his shirt still undone. The sight of his smooth, rippled forearms and definition of his pecs was an unwelcome distraction.

His hard, brooding eyes snapped across River's face. "Do you have measurements on that window?"

River, flushed, shook only his head.

Julian held the phone away from his mouth. "Get a tape measure."

River floated into the shop on autopilot, finding Julian's belongings on the counter, the call continuing on the speakerphone. He grasped one end of the tape measure, and Julian unfolded it, recording the measurements.

"Beckett, the window is six feet wide by four feet high," he told the phone.

"Got it. What do you want?" Beckett's voice replied.

River snapped out of it at last. "Oh, uh, can we talk price first? I should shop around. We're doing well, but with property tax increases, we've got an enormous bill down the road, so—"

"Chill. I've got it," Julian broke in and paced back and forth in front of the desk. "I'd like the bullet-proof polycarb, both windows. They're the same width. His sister does the office, and things are getting hot. Can you grab one of those fire-proof, reinforced doors on the way? In fact, get two. I don't want the door to the shop to be a weak point." He looked upwards. "You got cameras?"

"Uh, yeah, but only on the garage bays and in back."

Julian told the voice in the phone again. "And pick up one of those new wireless security systems. The one with cameras that look like light bulbs." Julian laughed, a rich burr that made River's spine chill. "Absolutely, something like that. Just tell me how much I owe you. Any chance of getting this done first on the to-do list? It's pretty urgent." There was a silent pause, then laughter. "Thanks, man. I'll take care of the materials, but the labor, you're doing it for free. You still owe me from the lost bet."

River's eyes widened. "That polycarbonate is very expensive, man. We can't afford to pay for all of that."

Julian shrugged. "Beckett's a buddy of mine. He's a contractor, and he owes me. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? You just substituted a thirty-thousand-dollar favor for me."

"It's just money. Beckett'll be here in two hours."

Tomás and Sierra walked in before River could complain some more.

"What on earth happened here?" Tomás asked calmly, his expression indicating to River that he already knew.

"Hello, sir. Julian Ashford," Julian said, extending his hand to Tomás. "River just finished with my Maserati. We were about to sit down and work through the paperwork when someone threw a brick through the window. One of my friends is coming over in a couple of hours to install new windows and doors and board them up. I also had him bring some new cameras."

Tomás whistled softly. "Sounds expensive."

"No, sir. I took care of it."

"Why would you do that?" Tomás's eyes were narrowed, not glossing over anything.

Julian looked over at Sierra. "I know she works upstairs, and that brick could have done some serious damage." His eyes then shifted to River, his pupils seeming to widen for a moment before he cleared his throat and made a joke. "And now that I have found this place, I have some more business with you. It's not easy to get someone with this level of experience for both the Maserati and my old Corvette. If I'm going to have to leave them here overnight, call it protecting my investment."

"We don't accept doles," Tomás answered, a fire in his voice.

"Dad, Julian only wants to help," River interrupted, hoping so.

Tomás gazed at the glass on the sidewalk, then at Julian and River. "If you're sure, we appreciate it. But we can't pay you back. I want to make that clear, though."

"Understood, sir."

Sierra and Tomás exchanged a look before Sierra went on. "You and Dad can wrap things up. You two go take the Maserati out and get everything checked out so it's exactly how you want it. River reported that there was still a bit of a quiver when he turned right."

River's forehead furrowed in confusion. "I never s—"

"Uh, Sierra's right," Tomás cut in, though rather begrudgingly. "River, don't you remember? You mentioned you had no idea if it drove like that before the accident? Go with him and have him tell you."

Oh. My. God. My family is arranging for me to date a straight billionaire on a mission of heroism. So covert, guys.

River couldn't help but snort a laugh as he back-slapped Julian. "You got time?" he asked, deciding to play along. 

"I'll make time," Julian's deep voice sent a shiver down River's spine.

Sierra nudged him aside gently when he brushed past her, and Julian could proceed ahead of them and bring them to the bay. But Tomás caught hold of his shoulder, holding him back. "Just take care, son. That kind of money spoils men. Don't let me find your heart getting shattered when he realizes your differences are too much."

River heeded the advice, though it stung. But he was merely driving quickly in a dirty car with a hot guy. The keys, to which a Glass Saints bottle opener keychain was attached, lay on the board. He tossed them to Julian and headed for the passenger door, his heart pounding. Julian had a girlfriend, a gorgeous girl. He was likely straight. Worst case, he was bi, but River had to shut down these feelings immediately.

"You'll have to take me," Julian said.

"No problem. I know this side of the tracks." River meant it to be a joke, but Julian stopped, spread his stance, and placed his hands on the car roof.

"Just because my existence is on some other side of town doesn't mean there's anything wrong with this one."

River nodded, a nameless emotion tightening his throat. He was grateful Julian was content to overlook their socioeconomic status. The Maserati doors swung open like wings on a bat, and River, who had guessed the car was worth more like two hundred thousand dollars, took in every detail. The interior, though tight, was intimate.

Julian inserted the key into the ignition, and the purr of the engine hummed deep within River. He liked the feeling.

"Ready?" Julian asked, a smirk of half a grin on his face that caused River to grit his teeth.

Julian revved the engine, oblivious to the impact he was making. He rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing smooth, bulging forearms and erupted veins.

Fuck my life.

"You always do this ritual before going around the block?" River quipped, attempting to relax the knot in his chest—and his pants.

Julian just smirked, and River had a feeling that smirk would be the death of him.