Quinn Read online

  

  Fate & Felines 2

  Quinn

  [Siren Publishing: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection: Contemporary, Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifters, MM, HEA]

  Stevie Tucker has found himself in a world of trouble. His father is not only an alcoholic, but apparently a gambler. And not a very good one. When a hitman gets into Stevie’s car and tells him he has two weeks to come up with fifty grand, Stevie is beside himself. He’s had the hots for Quinn O’Brien for weeks now, and the guy just inherited a fortune, but Stevie is determined to keep Quinn out of his problems, until his problems suck Quinn into the mess.

  Quinn has never had any luck with dating. He tends to dive in feetfirst and ends up being tossed back onto the shore. He’s interested in Stevie, but wants to take things slow. Unfortunately that isn’t about to happen. He knows the human is in trouble, but Stevie refuses to tell Quinn what’s going on. When Quinn finds out that Stevie is his mate, the kid gloves come off and the real fight begins.

  Length: 33,000 words

  QUINN

  Fate & Felines 2

  Lynn Hagen

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  Quinn

  Copyright © 2020 by Lynn Hagen

  ISBN: 978-1-64637-126-6

  First Publication: April 2020

  Cover design by Emma Nicole

  All art and logo copyright © 2020 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart.

  You can find her on any given day curled up with her laptop and a cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their story.

  For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/lynn-hagen

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  QUINN

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  QUINN

  Fate & Felines 2

  LYNN HAGEN

  Copyright © 2020

  Chapter One

  “I have an announcement to make,” Clara said when she stepped into the salon breakroom. “The person who does the most cuts this month will win a hundred-dollar gift card.”

  Stevie hated these contests. Clara expected them to whip people in and out of their chairs like the salon was some kind of drive-thru. He liked taking his time, giving the person what they wanted but also making them feel like they were part of his family.

  “Now, Stevie”—Clara turned her eyes onto him—“so far, you have the lowest numbers. I’m really hoping this gives you incentive to do better.”

  “Oh my god.” Stevie set his snack bag aside and brushed the salt off his fingers. “Did you really have to call me out in front of everyone?”

  Marie snickered. The bitch. She was the biggest gossip in the salon, and her favorite topic always seemed to be him.

  “We’re a team.” Clara always loved reminding Stevie of that fact. “We discuss our successes and failures as a team.”

  There was no “gay” in team. Stevie knew every last one of these women didn’t like him. He was the only male employee, and they purposely talked about giving birth and menstrual cycles as if they were trying to gross him out enough that he’d run screaming from the shop.

  They wished they could get rid of Stevie that easily. They were just jealous because everyone in town wanted their hair done by him. That was why he knew having the lowest numbers was bullshit.

  Stevie might not be top, but he definitely wasn’t bottom. He snickered at that thought. He was definitely a bottom, but not for the salon.

  “Okay, so I’ll see you all back here bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  “How early?” he asked. His friend Layne had just given birth to a beautiful baby boy, and Stevie promised to go over there and help out. He was still floored that Layne had gotten pregnant in the first place, but Stevie had had enough time to digest that bizarre fact.

  “Why, do you have a date?” Marie asked. He saw the contempt in her eyes. She was in her late forties, was married, and one of those people in town who would prefer gay men stay hidden in the closet or simply not exist at all.

  Stevie didn’t want to let any of the women know that they hurt his feelings every time they talked about or poked fun at him. He had to stop being so sensitive.

  “Yes, your husband wanted me to stop by after you left for work.” He picked his snack bag up and popped a pretzel into his mouth. “He loves my lips on him.”

  Marie gasped and glared at him. Stevie smirked at her but refrained from sticking his tongue out. That would’ve been childish. “No, I don’t have a date,” he said to Clara. “But I do have an obligation.”

  Clara rolled her eyes. “Fine, come in at noon, but that kind of attitude won’t win you the prize.”

  Now that Layne had moved out, it was just Stevie, Horace, and Stanton living in their rental house. Without Layne’s added income, they were always short on bills. Stevie could really use that gift card, but he wasn’t treating his customers that way.

  And Stevie really wanted to see Layne and visit with the baby. Plus, he was hoping Quinn would be there. That O’Brien brother was hot and hunky, and Stevie loved hanging around the guy.

  He had to retract his one thought that everyone in the salon disliked him because, as they got up from their metal chairs, Karen hurried over and whispered, “I can’t believe you scorched Marie!”

  Karen was around twenty-two, wore dark makeup that didn’t flatter her features, but was the sweetest girl he knew. She’d shared the same childhood as Stevie had. Drunken parents who ignored her. Only her father hadn’t knocked her around trying to make her a man.

  Stevie’s had.

  Lord, he wasn’t about to cry in front of these women, because that was what always happened when he thought of his useless father. Wouldn’t Marie just love that? She probably would think those tears were from how she’d treated him.

  “She deserved it,” he said.

  “So, are you free for dinner?” She grabbed her purse from the chair she’d been seated in.

  Stevie’s plans had been to go to O’Brien’s Pub so he could flirt with the hot guys and maybe see Quinn there. Yes, he was addicted to Quinn. But although Quinn was friendly and flirted back, he’d never made a move on Stevie.

  Stevie was starting to think Quinn had placed him in the friend zone, and that was a depressing place to be. “Maybe some other time,” he said as he headed for the door.

  Karen was sweet, but he didn’t need a wingman…um, gir
l, to help him snare Quinn. Stevie also carried the panthera mark, though none of his friends knew that fact. It was on his lower back, right above his left butt cheek.

  Stevie now knew what that meant thanks to Layne. But he still had time. His birthday wasn’t for another two weeks, so he was safe from getting pregnant until then.

  After that? He was steering clear of all panthers. Including Quinn O’Brien. Stevie just wanted a quick roll in the sheets with him. That was all.

  But fate was conspiring against him since Quinn wasn’t catching a goddamn clue.

  Stevie made it to his car just as his phone rang. He was expecting the call to be from Layne. His friend was still new to this parenting thing, and Stevie thought Layne just needed someone to talk to, someone to tell him he wasn’t screwing this up.

  Stevie was not the person to ask. The only thing he knew about babies was that they grew up into adults. Diaper changes, feeding schedules, deciphering what a cry meant, and choking hazards were lost on him.

  If Layne left baby Connor in Stevie’s care, by the end of the day, they would be painting their toenails and talking about boys or heading to the mall to get some lattes.

  And that was if Stevie was lucky enough not to lose the kid in the parking lot or forget that he was in the car in the first place.

  It wasn’t as though Stevie had knowledge to draw from. He was an only child, and his only living relatives—that he knew of—were his drunk-tastic parents.

  And speaking of…

  He groaned when he saw it was his dad calling him. If Stevie didn’t answer, his dad would blow up his phone for the next hour. While gritting his teeth, he hit the green button and shoved the phone against his ear. “Yes?”

  Why couldn’t he have lost his dad in a parking lot? Then he wouldn’t have to deal with him.

  “I need twenty bucks until I get paid.” His voice was gruff, and from his tone, Stevie could tell Cliff had already hit the bottle today. That shouldn’t have surprised him.

  “I’m broke until you get paid,” Stevie said. “Don’t you still owe me like a hundred bucks from the other times you borrowed money from me?”

  Borrowed. That was hilarious. His dad should take his comedy routine on the road. The moon crashing into Earth would happen before he gave Stevie back what he owed him.

  Which was more than one hundred dollars. Since Stevie had become an adult seven years ago and moved out, he’d probably given Cliff hundreds of dollars, if not over a thousand.

  “It’s your mom who needs the money.”

  Stevie wasn’t sure what to believe. It wasn’t as if his mother was a saint. Lara Tucker knew how to manipulate people to get what she wanted. She might not have abused Stevie, but she’d mentally fucked him up.

  His parents were the worst, yet Stevie kept going back for more as if he couldn’t get enough of their dysfunction.

  “I don’t have it.” He opened his car door and slid inside. He was also flabbergasted that Cliff would ask him for anything after the abuse he’d doled out when Stevie was living at home. That was a regular routine for them, though. Cliff would call and ask for money, pretending he hadn’t tried to beat the gay out of Stevie, and Stevie had caved most times, pretending Cliff hadn’t crushed his world by being the shittiest parent alive.

  “I have to go. A client came in.” Total lie.

  “The salon is closed.”

  “Last-minute customer.” Stevie hit the End button and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. Frustration ate at his bones. He had the crappiest parents, but he couldn’t seem to quit them. As bad as they were, they were all Stevie had.

  Well, he had Layne’s mom and dad, and they treated him great. But deep down, they still weren’t his folks. And at the end of the day, most would deal with crappy people rather than be alone.

  Stevie took a deep breath and started his car. He wasn’t going to let his dad ruin his evening. Cliff would call back. Of that Stevie was sure. His dad didn’t like taking no for an answer and would harass Stevie until he got what he wanted.

  Until then Stevie would enjoy his time at O’Brien’s Pub. The place seemed to be a hit since opening a few weeks ago. Nash O’Brien had discovered a gold mine when he’d bought the rundown place. Stevie had helped with the restorations.

  As best he could, anyway. Quinn had been the carpenter on the restoration project, and he’d breathed life into the place. Layne had chosen the new design, and it was sleek, modern, and had spoken to the hipster crowd. Nash had provided the financing.

  Stevie? He’d been a lowly laborer, but it had been for a good cause, and Nash had paid well. More than Stevie made at the salon.

  The parking lot was across the street from the pub. Stevie found a place in the back and hopped out, ready to forget the meeting at work and his dad’s phone call.

  He stepped inside to the sound of the overhead speakers playing some Green Day song. The music could be heard but wasn’t loud enough to drown everyone out. There were plenty of people at the bar and some sitting on the couch that had nearly gotten tossed out the window when Layne had had a fit about its location.

  Nash was behind the bar slinging drinks, along with Horace, who Nash had hired. If Stevie had known how to throw mixed drinks together, he would’ve had the job instead of his roommate/friend.

  Horace’s face lit up as soon as he spotted Stevie.

  Then Stevie spotted him. His heart went into overdrive as he watched Quinn carry two cases behind the bar. His muscles flexed as he walked, and damn it, he smiled at the customers, and Stevie was so jealous. Quinn smiled at him the same way, flirtatious and friendly, and why had he friend-zoned Stevie?

  Squaring his shoulders, Stevie marched to the bar and found an empty stool. Horace hurried over, a rag over his shoulder. That rag wasn’t for show, either. The guy had OCD to the tenth power. Their house was so sparkling clean that you could literally eat off the floors.

  Not that Stevie had tried, but he might’ve been passed out on them a time or two when he’d been stupid dunk. He may have even drooled on them, too.

  “What’ll you have?” Horace asked.

  “That big beefy brother,” Stevie replied, nodding his head toward Quinn. “But since he doesn’t want me, just give me whatever you have on tap.”

  “One big, beefy brother on tap coming right up,” Horace sang out. The prick was teasing him. When Stevie got home, he was going to unmake Horace’s bed. That would throw his friend into a tizzy.

  Maybe Stevie would even rearrange the throw pillows on the couch.

  “It’s good to see you.”

  Stevie lost the ability to breathe when he heard Quinn’s voice behind him. He hadn’t even seen the sexy bastard heading his way. But Stevie felt the guy’s body heat, and damn if he didn’t want to lean into it.

  Stevie turned and smiled up at him. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  That was the lamest thing he’d ever said. Of course Quinn was there. He worked at the pub.

  Quinn laughed, either because he thought Stevie was an idiot or simply teasing him.

  When the lady next to Stevie got up and took her drink, along with her girlfriends, over to the couch, Quinn sat in the vacated stool. “Hard day at work?”

  “Hard,” Stevie said, but he wasn’t talking about his day. If he threw any more hints at Quinn that he wanted him, Stevie just might knock the man unconscious. His innuendos always seem to fly right over Quinn’s gorgeous head.

  “Perfect way to unwind.”

  “You don’t have to pitch this pub at me,” Stevie said. “I helped bring it to life.” Even if his help had consisted of throwing things in the dumpster and sweeping. He’d still been a part of the team. Quinn had even given Stevie an extra tool belt of his to wear. The dang thing kept sliding down Stevie’s slim hips, so Quinn had added a new notch to keep it in place.

  “Not throwing a pitch at you.” Quinn leaned his muscled arms on the counter. “I was being serious. You’re one of Layne’s best friends, so I con
sider you like family.”

  Freaking fantastic. First it was the friend zone, now “like family.” Stevie’s chance with Quinn was shriveling up faster than his balls. Next the guy would say he considered Stevie “like a brother.”

  “So, what’re you doing when you get off?” And the innuendos kept flying.

  “Sleeping.” Quinn grinned. “It’ll be three in the morning.”

  And they kept going right over his head. Stevie was so over today it wasn’t even funny. His plans of getting laid by Quinn O’Brien had once again failed. He needed to let that fantasy go. It was never going to happen.

  Stevie didn’t even say anything when Quinn got up and walked behind the bar to tend to the customers. If Quinn didn’t want what he had to offer, screw him. Or not screw him as the case was.

  * * * *

  Stevie wasn’t even drunk by the time he slid off his stool and headed for the door. Watching men and women hit on Quinn all night had been a real buzzkill. Only twice had Quinn glanced his way, and Stevie suspected it was because the sexy bastard was looking to see if he needed a refill on his soda.

  Yes, soda. After that first beer, Stevie had been dumb enough to hold out hope that he had a shot at Quinn, so he’d switched his drinks from alcohol to freaking soda.

  A lot of good that had done him. He should’ve gotten plastered and enjoyed himself instead of sitting there feeling like a complete idiot.

  Stevie stepped outside to the muggy night air, depressed as fuck that he was going home alone. A guy could take only so much friend-zone shit before he wanted to kick someone’s tires.

  “Hey, wait up.”

  Someone called to Stevie as he crossed the street. He turned and looked the man over. A complete stranger. The guy jogged over to Stevie until they were both on the sidewalk in front of the parking lot.