that sort of contact either.
Quinn knew their regulars well, but he didn’t know all the particulars of their lives. The men, women and children who didn’t have a roof over their heads were too closed off for that. There was, after all, a reason why they’d ended up on the streets. For some, it was alcohol or drug abuse; others were socially inadequate, unable to function in a group well enough to hold a steady job. A not-so-small percentage simply didn’t have the mental skills to drag themselves out of a slump, and those people would need help for the rest of their lives. Quinn had found peace a long time ago in knowing he could only do so much. Now that he thought about it, he remembered a conversation he’d had with Haden about this. At the time, Haden had found it hard to understand that these people couldn’t be saved and that some didn’t even want to be saved. Quinn wondered if this visit had something to do with that.
Although the only people in the shelter that afternoon were those working to get everything ready for that evening’s residents, Quinn locked the office behind him out of habit before walking towards the hallway, which was also sealed off from the rest of the shelter by a trellis and a lock. Through the fine maze of the separating wall, Quinn could see Haden standing near the entrance door. He was wearing an expensive looking, long woolen coat and leather gloves, his collar turned up. His short, dark hair looked damp and his cheeks were rosy from the change of temperature between the outside air and the hallway.
Quinn unlocked the inside door. “Hi, Haden. What can I do for you?”
Haden looked up and Quinn was pinned into place by the man's ice blue eyes. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me,” Haden answered with a soft smile.
“Camille told me your name. Of course, I remembered you.” There was no need for Quinn to elaborate that Haden was his ideal physical type and that for a short while, he’d entertained a few carefully chosen sexual fantasies about the man. The daydreams had disappeared almost as soon as Haden had, so Quinn preferred to keep them to himself.
Holding the heavy metal door open, Quinn held out his hand and as Haden shook it, the firm handshake brought back all those unrequited feelings. Quinn gripped Haden’s hand just as firmly and mentally willed himself to push the lust to the back of his mind.
“I’ll cut to the chase,” Haden continued confidently. “I have a proposal for you. Can I take you out for coffee or something so we can discuss it?”
His mind racing all over the place, Quinn didn’t know what to think. A proposal? At least his curiosity was sparked. “We open in less than two hours and there’s still a lot of work to do. I can spare a few minutes for coffee if we can take it here,” Quinn suggested, pointing behind him toward the shelter.
“Works for me,” Haden answered. “Don’t suppose your coffee is any better than it used to be?”
“No,” Quinn admitted. “Still the same, I’m afraid, but you can add as much sugar as you like and it’s hot enough to burn your tongue. Just what you need with this blasting cold weather.” He turned around and almost immediately Haden followed close behind him. His hand still against the door, Quinn hesitated opening it farther, savoring the feel of Haden’s hot breath ghosting his neck until he couldn’t stand it anymore and he pushed the door all the way open. With swift steps, he walked inside and to the back of the dining hall without checking whether Haden was following him. He didn’t need to look back. The door locked shut behind them and he could hear the sound of Haden’s expensive leather shoes on the tiles of the dining hall.
“Stealing two cups of coffee from you, Cammie,” Quinn called into the kitchen as he rounded the corner and filled two paper cups. He handed one to Haden, who had entered just behind him, and added three scoops of sugar to his. “Let’s go to
Quinn knew their regulars well, but he didn’t know all the particulars of their lives. The men, women and children who didn’t have a roof over their heads were too closed off for that. There was, after all, a reason why they’d ended up on the streets. For some, it was alcohol or drug abuse; others were socially inadequate, unable to function in a group well enough to hold a steady job. A not-so-small percentage simply didn’t have the mental skills to drag themselves out of a slump, and those people would need help for the rest of their lives. Quinn had found peace a long time ago in knowing he could only do so much. Now that he thought about it, he remembered a conversation he’d had with Haden about this. At the time, Haden had found it hard to understand that these people couldn’t be saved and that some didn’t even want to be saved. Quinn wondered if this visit had something to do with that.
Although the only people in the shelter that afternoon were those working to get everything ready for that evening’s residents, Quinn locked the office behind him out of habit before walking towards the hallway, which was also sealed off from the rest of the shelter by a trellis and a lock. Through the fine maze of the separating wall, Quinn could see Haden standing near the entrance door. He was wearing an expensive looking, long woolen coat and leather gloves, his collar turned up. His short, dark hair looked damp and his cheeks were rosy from the change of temperature between the outside air and the hallway.
Quinn unlocked the inside door. “Hi, Haden. What can I do for you?”
Haden looked up and Quinn was pinned into place by the man's ice blue eyes. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me,” Haden answered with a soft smile.
“Camille told me your name. Of course, I remembered you.” There was no need for Quinn to elaborate that Haden was his ideal physical type and that for a short while, he’d entertained a few carefully chosen sexual fantasies about the man. The daydreams had disappeared almost as soon as Haden had, so Quinn preferred to keep them to himself.
Holding the heavy metal door open, Quinn held out his hand and as Haden shook it, the firm handshake brought back all those unrequited feelings. Quinn gripped Haden’s hand just as firmly and mentally willed himself to push the lust to the back of his mind.
“I’ll cut to the chase,” Haden continued confidently. “I have a proposal for you. Can I take you out for coffee or something so we can discuss it?”
His mind racing all over the place, Quinn didn’t know what to think. A proposal? At least his curiosity was sparked. “We open in less than two hours and there’s still a lot of work to do. I can spare a few minutes for coffee if we can take it here,” Quinn suggested, pointing behind him toward the shelter.
“Works for me,” Haden answered. “Don’t suppose your coffee is any better than it used to be?”
“No,” Quinn admitted. “Still the same, I’m afraid, but you can add as much sugar as you like and it’s hot enough to burn your tongue. Just what you need with this blasting cold weather.” He turned around and almost immediately Haden followed close behind him. His hand still against the door, Quinn hesitated opening it farther, savoring the feel of Haden’s hot breath ghosting his neck until he couldn’t stand it anymore and he pushed the door all the way open. With swift steps, he walked inside and to the back of the dining hall without checking whether Haden was following him. He didn’t need to look back. The door locked shut behind them and he could hear the sound of Haden’s expensive leather shoes on the tiles of the dining hall.
“Stealing two cups of coffee from you, Cammie,” Quinn called into the kitchen as he rounded the corner and filled two paper cups. He handed one to Haden, who had entered just behind him, and added three scoops of sugar to his. “Let’s go to
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