Page 2 of Nicks and Cuts

He rubbed his side even though the scars no longer hurt. Real life wasn’t as neat.

CHAPTER

TWO

Ugh. The last thing Shannon wanted was to make himself presentable to go to the horse-riding school to look at a possible room to rent. However, he also wasn’t ready to go looking at rentals and sign leases—they felt a little too permanent—and he was over living in the motel.

So even though he’d stormed off, leaving LA behind, starting over was not as easy as he’d expected. He’d forgotten what it was like to start a new job. To be the one who didn’t know the routines everyone else could do in their sleep. To have to ask a question what seemed like every other minute.

At least on a call out, he knew what he was doing.

Though aside from one kitchen fire, one fall in the shower, and a dog bite, his first week in Foggy Basin had been pretty low-key. He had to keep reminding himself that it was exactly what he wanted.

The whole point of moving was to get away from the hectic, desperate energy of LA…as well as his ex.

At least he’d kept his promise this week and not slipped and fallen on another dick. He bit his lip and turned the corner, and the sun almost blinded him. He swore and adjusted the visor blocking most of it.

In his defense, it had been Pride and the guy selling knives and chopping boards had been looking for an excuse to hook up. He may have implied that he was passing through, but it didn’t really matter as he wasn’t going to hunt him down for round two.

He drove past a sign that said ‘Nicks and Cuts’ and his map told him he’d arrived. Err, no. He was looking for the horse place.

He drove up the road a bit further, hoping the map was out by a few hundred yards. Nothing. Shit. He used a dirt driveway to turn around and headed back to ‘Nicks and Cuts’. On the back of the sign was a very faded picture of a horse.

“Weird name for a horse-riding school, but okay.” He turned into the dirt driveway and followed it up the hill, wondering if this was the start of a horror movie where he was playing the role of dumb blond… His mother would be thrilled it was actually a film.

The house came into view, and it did not look like it was owned by a serial killer or possessed by demons. It had a friendly ranch vibe with a big wrap-around deck, complete with pot plants and a swing.

He’d been told to park around the back. Given that there was a sign pointing to parking, that was what he did. There was one other SUV, and in what appeared to be stables someone was moving. The serial killer vibes were back…

He was meant to be meeting a man called Dante. Was that him?

A man stepped out. He was dressed head to toe in black, and there were dark smears on his arms. Arms that he’d seen on either side of his head last weekend.

“Fuck.” He was tempted to throw the car into reverse and flee. That was the smart thing to do.

His anonymous hook-up lifted his hand in greeting.

“Fuckity fuck.” His own personal horror movie.

This was going to go down as well as a match in a gas leak. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be renting a room from a man the memory of whom may have entertained him in the shower more than once since their hook-up.

Be polite, agree that this isn’t going to work, and come up with a new plan.

He turned off the car and wiped his hands on his jeans as he pocketed his keys before getting out. The man’s face hardened immediately, all pretense of welcoming gone.

“You’re Shannon?”

“Yeah.” His parents had given all their kids gender neutral names, thinking they were cutting edge without considering how it may impact their kids. “New paramedic…errr… We met at Pride.”

Or should he have kept his mouth shut about that?

The man pressed his lips tighter together. If there were a scowling contest, he should be representing the state.

“You’re Dante?”

The man nodded but made no effort to walk over or change his expression.

Shannon hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and drew in a breath. “I can go. This is obviously…” weird because Dante was making it weird. “Awkward.”