A/N: Prompt from EEG and CTBabe1202. Thanks!

---

Manolo Peña’s POV

I step back in line and watch Hector Gutierrez leave the gym.

Wow.

Just wow.

He told me that when he arrived in San Antonio he wouldn’t speak or acknowledge me, but . . .

I want to blush. He’s gorgeous. Well built, intimidating, no nonsense. Sexy as hell.

Great ass.

I shake my head mentally and stand at attention. I see his partner, Stephanie, up at the front. She was a sweetie. I see her grandmother in her. Even though we both knew we couldn’t speak to each other, her eyes said, So you’re Manolo, huh? Hiiiiii!

I learned how to control the blushing in the Navy. Thank god. I might’ve been pitched overboard if I had not.

Hector was putting my abilities to the test.

—oOo—

“Hello. Are you new?”

The guy in front of me is gorgeous. Hispanic. Not Cuban. Mexican, maybe? Black hair, chiseled six-pack, gorgeous smile. Five-eight to five nine. My age.

He’s handsome enough for me to take a chance. I saw him with a woman and child earlier, but his attention was on the men on the beach, not the women.

He turns and I’m caught by his eyes.

He has gorgeous eyes. Dark brown, framed by long lashes, his eyes are both guarded and curious. “Yes?“

I open my mouth to speak when I hear “Hey, Manolo!” I groan mentally. My luck sucks.

Edna Mazur walks up gingerly, Larry with her. The sand on the beach is hot and she’s barefoot. I smile and curse my rotten luck. The moment I meet a handsome man, the funniest woman I’ve met in a long time wants to talk.

“Hello, Edna!” I kiss her cheek and nod at Larry. “Hello, Larry.” He nods at me.

“I see you’ve met my buddy Hector.”

Buddy?

My head swings back around to his face. He has a half-smile on his face now. “Buddy?”

“Yes. Hector Gutiérrez”—well, that answers that question. Mexican—”this is Manolo Peña.” She slides next to Hector and pinches his butt. He rolls his eyes and pinches her back. “This is my friend who helped me get away from my bodyguards that first night.”

“Really?” he murmurs. She looks at me. “You’ll have to translate for her. I speak in Spanish only.”

I smile. “Thanks for the hint.” I turn to Edna. “He said, really?”

She turns to him. “Yes, really! I made sure Diego reviewed his application.”

His attention hasn’t left my face, but his focus narrows. “You applied to be a RangeMan?”

“Yes.”

He nods slightly. “I’m the head of tech.”

I turn to Edna. “I love you.”

She grins wickedly. “I bet you’ll love him more.” My ears turn red and she and Larry laugh and walk off.

“Edna is . . . interesting,” Hector murmurs, watching her walk off.

I grin. “I know. I loved her at first sight.”

He smiles and the eyes lighten. Curiosity is in full swing. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Originally from LA, I did two tours in the Navy before settling here.”

“Why here? Why not LA?”

I stare at him. “It was either here or Atlanta.” Unspoken: gay scene, dude. It’s on the East Coast.

This is the first time in my life I’ve been able to date and actually have sex. Not much sex yet, but I love living in Miami! I can finally see if there’s someone in the world for me!

His mouth twitches in unspoken agreement. “You took Edna to Swinging Dicks?” I nod. “Have you been to the one in Atlanta?” I shake my head. “It’s even better.”

Somewhere inside of me, my inner gay blade swoons. I know where I’ll be next summer!

“Well, you got my snapshot. You?”

“Jersey. I work for RangeMan, I take care of my son, and I spend time with friends.”

At the word ‘son’, I deflate. I have a hard and fast rule: no children. I don’t do down-low and if you have kids, chances are, you’re in the closet. When you come out, we’ll talk.

“Oh.”

His eyes harden. “Yeah.”

I’m stuck for something to say when a child comes running up. “Tío! Tío! Look!”

Tío? Maybe there’s hope yet.

The little boy’s hands open. He has some sand crabs. Hector grimaces.

“What are those, Mijo?” He bends to look.

Mijo? OK, the little boy calls him uncle and he calls him son . . . so is he an uncle or father?

“I dunno, Tío. They were in the sand.” The little boy is poking at them. Hector looks slightly disgusted. I peek.

“Sand crabs,” I reply. I smile at the little boy and wonder if this is his son. They don’t look anything alike. “Did they try to hide from you?” He nods, eyes wide and enthusiastic. “They’re good at burrowing under the sand. They’re scared of you.” I look at Hector’s face and decide to do him a favor. “Put them down. They’re scared.”

“Oh.” He puts them down and, in a flash, they’ve burrowed back under the sand. Hector brushes his hands. “Tío, can we get some ice cream?”

“Of course.” He nods at me. “See you around.” He takes the little boy’s hand and they walk off hand in hand.

I check my watch. My lunch is nearly over anyway. I head back to the lifeguard stand and set up.

Hours later, I realize I was so caught up in his eyes, those gorgeous dark eyes, and his sensual mouth, quirked in a half smile, that I missed the three teardrop tattoos on his cheek.

LA native. I know what that means.

He’s killed before. At least three times.

—oOo—

“You gay?”

I turn. Ellis. I’ve already determined that he’s going to be the bigot of the group. We’ve been recruits for one week and I’ve sussed out that I’m one of six gay men in this class. Three are in the closet. Two others are not, but they’re former bangers who are knife happy. No one messes with them. I refuse to lie about who I am and, now that I’m not in the military anymore, I’m never lying about it again.

“Yes.”

The entire locker room gets quiet. Most of the men look over at me and surreptitiously move to shield themselves.

“Oh, get over yourselves! I’m not interested in any of you.” I look at Ellis. “And you’re not my type. So get a grip.”

Twenty six years as a gay man means I’ve learned to expect an attack. I hear the whistle of the wind, the nearly silent grunt, and I turn, fast as lightning, and catch his fist in my hand while simultaneously twisting his arm. He goes down to his knees in a grunt.

“Weren’t trying to throw a punch, were you?” I ask quietly. His face is red. “Golden Gloves boxer. You wanna throw a punch? Do it in a ring. I might be small, but I pack a punch.”

“Good to know.” I look up. Lester Santos and he does not look pleased. Neither does Bobby Brown. They move silently and, as usual, snuck up on us. “Explain.”

The locker room is quiet. Even I’m not sure what to say. The Leadership was very clear about the fact that fighting, outside of training, would get you dismissed.

“That wasn’t a suggestion, gentlemen,” Brown says softly.

A few guys are dressed and ready to leave so they step forward.

“Ellis asked Peña if he was gay. Peña replied that he is. Ellis tried to sucker punch him and Peña caught his fist and forced him down.”

“This true?” Santos asks softly.

I nod and, slowly, everyone around the room nods in agreement. Santos and Brown are staring at us. Brown makes a small motion and everyone in the locker room moves back against the walls. Santos nods at me and I let Ellis’s fist go. Brown walks over closer to us.

“Gotta problem with gay people, Ellis?” Santos asks.

Ellis is silent and red.

“Fine.” He smiles. “I’d like to see you in action, Peña. Tomorrow morning.” He looks at Ellis. “Fair fight. I hate watching someone get sucker punched.”

“Like this,” Brown says.

I never want to fight Bobby Brown. I never saw him move but I heard the thud of his fist making contact. Ellis crumples like a paper doll. There’s a collective wince in the room.

That’s gonna be one hell of a bruise tomorrow.

Brown stares at him dispassionately. “We hire RangeMen of all races, creeds, sexual orientations, and as you saw last week, gender. This is a brotherhood and you love your brother regardless of who he chooses to love.”

He snorts. “There are gay and bisexual RangeMen,” he announces to the room at large. “Who they fuck in their spare time is none of your fucking business. What is your business is if they can hold their own in the field.” He looks down at Ellis. “Get up. Don’t bully if you can’t take getting hit by someone bigger.”

I smile inwardly. Hector told me that the leadership in this company tried to play fair all the time. I see he was right.

“0600. After PT. I’m bringing popcorn for this boxing match,” Santos says, and he and Brown walk out.

—oOo—

I can’t get Hector Gutierrez off my mind.

Chances are, I’ll never see him again, but he was gorgeous.

I’m on the lifeguard stand when Edna appears. Monokini today, cut high on the leg. It ends up near her waist. I wonder if I should tell her that, even at 80, a bikini wax wouldn’t go amiss. This is Miami. Gotta fit in with the beautiful people. I’m tempted to take her to see my wax girl.

“Hello, Manolo!”

I grin. “Hi! How are you today? Busy?”

“Busy enough. Have you seen Hector?”

No. I’d like to see Hector. “No. I need to keep an eye out?”

“Please. He has little Manny with him and Stephanie.”

I decide to ask. “Is Stephanie his girlfriend?”

She looks at me. “Are you trying to be coy?”

“Maybe.” I grin at her and she laughs.

“Stephanie is his partner. Like cops.” Ah. Glad she clarified that. “Hector swings your way.” And she made that crystal clear. I love Edna. “I know. I tried to get some action off that.”

I laugh. For some reason, that’s hilarious to me. “Struck out?”

“Nope.” She grins. “He promised to give me the ride of my life but we’d do it his way. I don’t do butt stuff so I figured I better let that pass me by.”

I wish I’d taped this. Holy hell! He has a sense of humor. “You might have enjoyed it.”

She shakes her head. “Nope. I grew up believing the good Lord only had one use for my bottom and I’m too old to change my mind on that now. But you go for it.”

I grin. “I will. Little Manny? That’s the son?”

“Yup.” She smiles. “Really his nephew or cousin some sort of way, but Stephie says he considers himself the boy’s daddy. He’s called Mijo.”

Ah. Mystery solved. OK. I can get with that. He has a strong attachment to his nephew. That’s admirable. “And Stephie is your granddaughter?” I think quickly. “Was she the curly haired brunette?”

“Yup!” Edna beams. “That’s my granddaughter.” I hear a shout and turn. Larry’s waving. “Well, gotta go. There’s my handsome man.”

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Truly.

Thanks, Edna. Now, to find Hector.

A few hours later, Paul grunts. “Hot brunette at 1400.”

He knows I’m gay so there’s no telling what I’m about to see.

It’s Stephanie and little Manny. I see why Paul’s watching Stephanie. She’s a looker. Tiny bikini, sculpted body, wide smile. She’s getting plenty of admiring glances. Manny is running up and down the shore, in and out of the water. Stephanie is doing it with him, giggling the entire time.

Hector is walking up behind them, shouting. “Angelita, make sure he stays safe!” and later “Nothing over knee high, Angelita!”

“You worry too much, Hector!” she yells back, laughing, but she picks up Manny and heads toward the shore with him. A stunning blonde joins her and they all start to make a sand castle. Others join them and get in on the castle building.

Paul’s mouth is hanging. “I don’t know which one is hotter. The blonde in the tiny bikini or the brunette in the tiny bikini.” He shakes his head. “I’d fuck ’em both.”

I snort. “The blonde is clearly with the massive guy next to her and I’d bet the brunette is off the market too.”

Paul laughs. “That leaves you with Mr. Well-hung six-pack.”

Thanks for noticing, Paul. Hector in wet swim trunks? I gulp another bottle of water down and reapply the sunscreen.

I try not to watch, but Hector and Manny are amusing me. Stephanie is right: he’s a worrywart. Manny is slathered in sunblock every two hours and, after he eats, Hector won’t allow him anywhere near the water. He eventually takes him out into the ocean to teach him to swim but it’s not going well.

Paul leans over. “Go teach the kid to doggy paddle.” I look at him. “Oh please, you’ve been staring all morning. I’ll cover. Just go.”

Thanks, Paul.

—oOo—

I’m in the ring with Ellis. The sucker punch from Brown was not a joke. His side has been taped. Brown weighed us in and I qualified as a super welterweight. So I’ve lost some weight. Ellis is a light heavyweight so he has at least 20 pounds on me.

Doesn’t matter. His punches hurt but mine are more frequent, and I learned how to throw a good one as an amateur boxer. Hell, no one in my weight class would take me on in the Navy. I’m light on my feet and barely bruised. Ellis is getting stung repeatedly. He was never trained.

Santos dings a bell and Terry and Levar come over and hand me a water bottle. I wipe myself with a towel and shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs, when Hector steps into the room.

He’s killing me.

Like last week, low slung pants, knives and guns in full display and an intimidating look on his face. He stands next to Santos and they whisper for a moment. He looks around for me and our eyes meet.

You OK?

I nod. I know what I’m doing.

He nods and snatches Santos’s popcorn, which starts a bout of good natured poking between them. The bell rings and I’m back into action.

Hector’s here. I feel the need to impress.

—oOo—

“Hi.”

“Hi!” Little Manny is all excitement. “I’m learning swimming!”

“I see.” I grin. Hector’s still holding him and not letting go. He’s learning how to splash in the water. “How about I teach you to doggy paddle?”

“You have time?” Hector asks.

“Yes.” I walk closer to Manny’s side. “OK. I’m going to teach you how to swim. Ready?”

“Uh huh!”

“OK, so I need you to watch my feet.” I dive head first into the water so I’m ass over elbows, situate myself right in front of Hector and Manny, and move my feet in a flutter kick in the air so he can see how it’s done. After a minute or two, I resurface.

“OK Manny, did you see that?” I ask, pushing my hair out of my face.

Hector grins. “Oh, he saw it. Look.” I look around and his little feet are going! I bet this kid doesn’t stop on land.

“Great job, Manny!” I slap his hand and he grins. “OK, now watch my hands.” I show him the paddle movements. We work on hand and feet movements, but getting Hector to let go will be the hardest part. He still has his hands firmly around Manny’s waist.

I finally have an idea. I swim behind Hector and tickle him on the side of his thigh, then on the side opposite side on his back.

He buckles in a laugh and Manny takes off like a shot toward the shore! Hector panics, running after him, but I pull him back (great ass!) and force him to watch his ‘son’ paddle confidently to land. He lands on the shore still flutter kicking.

“I did it! I did it! I did swimming!” He stands and turns around. “Did you see me Tío! I swimmed!” He’s jumping up and down again.

“You did an excellent job, Manny,” I call. Hector’s glaring at me. I’m still holding his swim trunks. “Can you swim back to Tío?”

Manny lies down in the water, starts kicking and makes his way back to Hector. I cop a feel and that incredibly hard ass tenses. I let go and Hector is all grins.

“Good job, Mijo!” Like all children, he quickly learns to maneuver and he’s moving around. “Uh oh. Not so good,” Hector moves and I grasp his arm.

“Mayday, mayday, the kid now knows how to get away on land and at sea,” I mutter from the side of my mouth. Hector stares at me for that and I smile. Manny’s swimming in circles around us.

“You’re laughing at my biggest fear,” he mutters.

“I’m laughing at the fact that you even fear it. Look at him.” Manny’s swimming confidently around his uncle. Even the waves aren’t deterring him from having fun. “No matter what, he always comes back.“

“True,” Hector says.

“Manny?” He turns back to me. “Want me to teach you another one?”

“Yeah!” He zooms back over.

“He’s a natural in the water,” I murmur. “He’ll want a pool.” Hector groans. I smile at Manny. “I’m going to teach you how to swim in one place.”

“OK.” I walk over, stand his little body up, and smile. “OK, so what I want you to do is kick your feet”—I feel a small tsunami start under the water—”and move your hands back and forth.” I look at Hector. “Do you know how?” He nods and starts moving his hands back and forth.

I move until I’m behind Manny and he’s moving his hands. I loosen my grip and back away until I’m not holding him anymore. Hector’s eyes are wide and he’s swallowing hard, but Manny’s treading water just fine.

I smile. “You’re a great swimmer, Manny. Now lean forward until you’re on your belly and doggy paddle to your uncle.”

Manny does exactly as I advise and he’s in Hector’s arms in moments.

I smile. “OK. You know how to swim, Manny! Great job!”

“Thank you . . .” He looks at me.

“Manolo,” Hector says. “This is Tío’s friend, Manolo.” He smiles at me and I wave goodbye and head back to the lifeguard stand.

All the RangeMan people are looking at me. I feel a bit conspicuous. I nod at them and the blonde smiles at me. The brunette, Stephanie, is missing.

I climb back into my seat and Paul hands me a soda. “The news called. You’ll be the featured human interest story tonight.” I flip him off and he grins. “Dude, it’s a shame you’re gay. Half the women on the beach are checking you out right now.”

—oOo—

Bobby is patching me up. I won the match. Ellis is going to have to do his duties for the next week with sore ribs, a bruised cheek, and a busted nose.

I wish I could feel sorry about the nose but he hit my kidneys. That shit hurt!

“Where are you from, Peña?” Bobby asks quietly.

“California, sir.”

“Siblings?”

“A brother. Two sisters.”

“Where do you fall?”

“Eldest.”

He nods. I’ve been iced down and taped up. I’m good to go. Bobby helps me off his table and I stand for a moment, waiting to be dismissed. Bobby is staring at me with what looks like approval on his face.

“Why did you apply to RangeMan, Peña?”

I’m quiet. “RangeMan’s reputation in Miami is the best, sir. It’s known as a place where a former soldier can be employed and use his skills and his training for something good. I liked the Navy, but . . .” I think of how to say it. “I was tired of denying who I am. I’m a gay man, sir. I don’t ask that anyone debate whether or not that’s right. Just accept me. I don’t argue anyone else’s right to screw women, but my right to love who I love was federally barred. I got sick of it.”

He nods. “So, we shouldn’t expect you to need us to fight your battles?”

“I would be pissed, sir, if you tried.”

Bobby has a small smile on his face. “Dismissed.”

—oOo—

“What are you doing this evening?”

I jump a mile in the air. I turn and it’s Hector. He smirks. “Gotta be more aware of your surroundings.”

“Yeah, I know.” I unlock my car, a Honda Civic, and toss my stuff inside. He peers in.

“Pack rat.

I blush. “Yeah, well, it’s my car,” I mutter. “I didn’t have plans. Why?”

His mouth twitches. “I hear Swinging Dicks moved.”

“Need directions?”

“I can get directions on my own.”

I grin. “Not if you don’t have my address.”

“Touché,” he replies.

—oOo—

There’s a knock at my door. “One minute.” I finish the email to my sister and stand to answer the door.

Terry pokes his head in. “The CIO is here to see you. You applied for tech?”

“Yeah.” I’m trying to hold the grin. Hector came to see me? In my apartment?

I’m in my loose linen pants, a remnant of the Miami culture. I look for a shirt and give up. The white wife-beater will have to do. I hope this isn’t my job interview. I walk out and I look for any kind of reaction on his face.

None.

Damn. He’s good.

The other three guys I share this apartment with are watching avidly. He merely gazes at them and they leave the apartment.

I’ve learned that Hector’s reputation as a killer and all-around ‘not to be fucked with’ guy is respected within RangeMan. The RMSA men told us stories about him that had everyone nervous. We were advised to treat his demands and requests with the same level of respect that we give the Leadership Core.

Do what he says. Immediately. Do not hesitate, do not delay, and do not question.

The only people who question him are those in tech and they’re very careful about how they do it. Not because he’s a bad boss but because he’s a respectful boss. He admits he’s a network and systems guy and a damn good programmer, but he hires men who are better at certain things than he is and trusts them. In return, they respect his orders and bring things to his attention when needed.

The bigots in our class were stunned to learn he’s gay. Everyone knows. Open secret. The other gay men in our class were as proud as me.

One of us is at the top of the pecking order.

In a militaristic culture like RangeMan, that’s a miracle, but the RMSA men are clear: RangeMan cares about your skills and abilities. Your background does not matter and neither does who you fuck. If you are a RangeMan, you are a brother. We’re down for you.

Good to know.

He steps closer and looks at me. “How are your kidneys?”

“Pissing blood.” I smile. “Bobby said he planned to keep an eye on me.”

Hector smiles. “Don’t give him too much leeway. Bobby will hover.”

I chuckle. “You needed to see me?”

“Yeah. I did.” That sentence just hangs. Hector drops the blank face long enough for me to catch the worry. “Anyone else here?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Good.” He steps closer and kisses me. His lips are soft and he shaved. He pulls me closer and I deepen the kiss. We both break apart breathing hard. I’m trying not to wonder how quick he could manage a quickie. Should’ve taken him up on it in Miami and I think he took my complaint about his scruff a little personally. I loved his kiss in Miami, but his stubble was a serious turnoff.

“Thanks,” I murmur. “What brought that on?”

He smiles. “The way you handed Ellis his ass in the ring. Nice. Mind teaching me?”

“You’re known as a fighter.”

“I’m known for my use of my blades. I could always stand a little refresher on how to use my fists.”

“I think you’re teasing me.” I grin. “Isn’t Bobby known for his stance?”

“Tank.”

I nod. No way do I ever fight Tank. He’s definitely a heavyweight.

“Les and I are known for the blades, Tank and Ranger are the best in a ring, and Bobby will break every bone in your body. Karate, Jujitsu and Krav Maga. Don’t spar with him.”

I make a mental note. None of the LC is safe.

“So, did you want to talk to me about tech?”

He shakes his head. “No one auditions for tech before becoming a full RangeMan. That was just my cover and if anyone asks, we discussed your skill set in preparation for your audition. You have skills I can use.”

“OK.” I know I blush. I can’t help it. “So . . . you just came to check on me?”

His lips twitch. “Don’t tell anyone. Can’t have people thinking I’m sentimental.”

“Right.”

“Right.” He stares at me for a minute longer. “The LC is watching out for you. Talk to them. They’re not going to give you a pass but they definitely won’t let anyone fuck with you.”

I square my shoulders. “I won’t let anyone fuck with me.”

He grins. “Good to know.”

“How’s Mijo?”

“Counting up to 100.” Hector beams. “He’s working on colors and shapes now. Trapezoid keeps tripping him up. It’s a rectangle to him.”

I laugh. Hector comes with a child. I never wanted kids but I saw him on the beach with his son. It was beautiful.

Hector is a worrywart. If not for Stephanie, little Mijo might never have gotten close to the water. If not for me, Hector would not have let go of him long enough to allow him to learn to swim.

“And Nikki?” I wonder if this . . . flirtation will last long enough for me to meet Nikki.

He rolls his eyes. “Dating Mark.”

I frown. “Boston Mark?” Good choice, girl. He’s hot!

He looks green. “Yes. Well, they aren’t dating but they’re definitely flirting.” He gags.

“Would anyone be good enough for Nikki?”

His lips twitch. “No.”

“Is that because of Nikki or Mijo?”

“Both, but more Nikki this time.” He sighs. “Mijo’s father was someone she met through me. He was an asshole.”

“Made a cute baby, though,” I murmur. Hector smiles.

“Beautiful baby. My son is handsome and smart.” His chest puffs out slightly in pride and I grin. “But still, I’m concerned about Nikki this time. I don’t want her to get hurt. Everything I know about Mark’s private life is good, but . . .” He shrugs. “I’ve been Nikki’s emotional support for years. I don’t want to see her get hurt again.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and force him to look at me. “That’s life. People are going to hurt you. In the words of Bob Marley, everyone is gonna hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for.”

Something about that quote must hit Hector hard because he stills completely. “Thanks. I think I know someone who needs to hear that one.

I smile. “Glad to help.”

He nods. “Gotta go. Stay safe. Good luck.” I watch him begin putting the mental armor back in place.

This time, I don’t hesitate. I kiss him. He’s startled but he eventually loosens up enough to enjoy it then try to take over. Definite top. He’s accustomed to being the aggressor. Again, I’m wondering about that quickie.

Hector walks to the door and shakes his head. “What are you doing in May?”

“May?”

He smiles. “Just keep your schedule open.” He opens the door and leaves.

Moments later, Terry, Levar, and Brian walk back in. “So, you make tech?” Brian asks, looking amused.

“No. No one auditions for tech before becoming a RangeMan, but I have skills he needs. Prelim discussion.”

They look disappointed. “Oh,” Terry says. “We thought he was coming on behalf of the ‘gay cabal’ at RangeMan.” They all laugh.

My smile drops. “Yeah, he was. He’s the local rep. We’re trying to figure out how to overthrow the black cabal, the white cabal, the Catholic, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, and atheist cabals. We’re wondering if our values line up with the Hispanic cabal and if it’s worth it to align ourselves with the small but flourishing women’s cabal. So I needed to know the secret limp handshake and how to flutter my eyelashes appropriately.” I sigh dramatically. “We’re coming up with our plan to take over the world!” I cry, raising my fist.

The smiles have dropped. “For God’s sake, Peña, it was a joke.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I reply. “Ask any gay man in America.”

—oOo—

He’s a spectacular dancer.

Smooth. Fluid. Graceful.

We’re dancing with six legs between us because we haven’t allowed anyone to break us apart. Hector’s the new boy, so everyone wants to dance with him. I’m known and I’m known for being picky. I haven’t been in the ‘scene’ for long and I don’t know all the Miami rules. I tend to take it slow.

Men in Miami like to fuck. And they don’t return your calls once they do.

He avoids all alcohol and sodas, drinking only water. I have the two beers. We sit and talk because if we don’t, this night will end in a bedroom and I don’t think either of us is ready for it. I’m too cautious and . . . I’m not sure what his issue is.

He scans every face that walks in. He always knows who is around us. He’s hyper vigilant.

“Relax,” I mutter. “No one is going to jump out and attack you.”

He gazes at me. “You know nothing about me.”

“True. But isn’t that the point of tonight?” Silence. “Or maybe I was wrong.” More silence. I’m getting a little irritated. “OK, so what was your plan? Wine, dine, and fuck me?”

“No.” That gets a quick response.

“Then what’s the issue?”

Silence. I’m trying not to allow this to crap on my evening. He’s hot. I want to fuck him if we can make it for a while longer. I like to know who is in my apartment. “Fine. Let’s dance.”

We finish the night wrapped around each other on the dance floor. He’s a great kisser, wonderful, but the five o’clock shadow has to go. We finally walk out at three AM and he walks me to my car.

“If you want to know about me, ask around about el Asesino,” he murmurs. He hands me a card, a business card. “Then decide if you want to talk to me.”

—oOo—

I’m on duty with Ellis. He’s silent. Thank god. I’m having a mental party.

The news of Hector’s elevation to the Leadership Core just hit the company. Everyone is stunned.

I’m proud. Hector’s a partner!

I sent him an email congratulating him and he responded with his thanks. Lots for him to do, but he’s excited.

For the first time, the bangers and the gays are in complete agreement: Hell Yeah! Hector is one of us and he worked his way to the top. He impressed men who had each other’s back in the most hellish places on earth and they allowed him into their brotherhood.

It is possible. Skills and abilities. That’s what RangeMan cares about.

“So, what made you decide to be gay?”

Ignorant asshole. “What made you decide to be straight?”

He glares. “That’s not a decision—”

“Neither was mine.”

“You chose to be gay. You chose that unnatural—”

“Please shut up.” I turn to him. “Which would you prefer: a life free of prejudice? Or one where you get spat at, bullied, turned down for jobs, threatened in the street, told by the federal government that you need to lie about your very sense of self, told by the authorities in your religion that you’re an abomination, sent hate mail and beaten up by ‘queer’ bashers?” He’s still staring at me. “Because I know which one I would have chosen. But you do not choose to be straight or gay. So don’t talk your shit to me until you can tell me why you chose to be straight.”

He’s silent for the rest of the night. Good.

—oOo—

I asked around.

I’m scared shitless.

He’s a notorious and deadly gangbanger. Shit! If I have a type, that’s it: hot and deadly. I’m always attracted to gangbangers, murderers, and thieves and I wanted to leave that shit in LA. Now the hottest man I’ve seen lately is another one.

God hates me. I really think he might.

I was hoping to find a nice quiet man in Miami. Someone with a stable job who liked dogs. Nothing stereotypical, like a love of show tunes, but physical fitness, travel, and fine dining might be nice. Extra points for being able to dance a paso doble and for having heard of the danzón.

I spend the next few days on the lifeguard stand thinking this through. I’m irritable and short with Paul because I’m agitated. I have no fucking idea what I should do.

My phone rings. I pick it up and the number is blocked. I just finished dinner and there’s nothing on. I’m thinking of working on my new app. “Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Manolo Peña?”

“Yes.”

“Hi. This is Diego Garcia at RangeMan. How are you?”

“Great.” I mute the TV and pick up a piece of paper, just in case I need to take notes. “How can I help?”

“Calling to inform you that you’ve been selected to join our newest RangeMan class. Still interested?”

I’m grinning. “Yes! When is it?”

“Starts November 2nd. The training will be in San Antonio, Texas. Your apartment and meals will be provided out there and you simply have to get there. Are you able to get to Texas by then?”

“Yes.” Good; I have six weeks to get my shit straight.

“Excellent. Training is paid for by the company. I’m sending you a packet of rules and everything you’ll need to fill out and take to Texas with you.”

“Great. I’ll review that ASAP.”

“Good. Any questions?”

I’m quiet. “Well, I have one.”

“Go on.”

“I recently met your CIO and I’m wondering about tech.”

“Everyone does. Hector’s rules are simple: No one can apply for tech until they pass RangeMan training. After that, you apply with him and it’s no joke.”

“Right.” I bite my lip. “This Asesino stuff I’m hearing—”

“That’s Hector’s past. He doesn’t like to dwell on that. He’s no longer a gangbanger and anything you’ve heard is probably an exaggeration.”

I sigh mentally. He’s put that shit behind him but he has a rep. He didn’t hide it from me. Good.

That’s still the hottest, tightest ass I’ve ever seen. I wonder if he’s a top or a bottom. I’m betting a top.

Thank god I’m versatile. Finally, I reach a state of calm peace and I go hunting for that business card.

—oOo—

We—RMSA men and recruits—decide to go clubbing.

I’m from Miami, club central. I wear my Texas-appropriate club clothes and get ready to have a party.

The ‘queer cabal’, as we’ve amusingly termed ourselves, decides to buy a bottle and silently toast Hector’s elevation. We’re proud. We hear that the only people happier than us are the tech guys in the company. Tech’s getting the respect they feel it should get. Finally!

Hector’s elevation means Nate in Atlanta took his position as CIO. He’s fucking thrilled! I can’t wait to meet him. He’s a mobile programmer and so am I. I can’t wait to learn from him.

I hit the floor and I’m soon surrounded by at least ten gorgeous women all dancing tight and close. Within an hour I’ve lost my shirt and the ladies have had their hands on my dick so often that I’m walking with a third leg. Hey, I might be gay but stimulation is stimulation!

I’m going to want my new cowboy hat back, though. I like that hat.

We’re dancing, liquored up and happy, when shit pops off, as Levar says.

Ellis has gotten into a bar fight. Figures. I wonder who he ran his mouth off at. I slide through the crowd and help him to his feet.

“Fuck you, asshole!” he screams before realizing it’s me. “Oh. Thanks.”

I help him to the tables we’re holding while the rest of the guys break up the fight with the bouncers. I grin at the girl at the bar and she smiles at me. I send Lonny to the bar to grab the ice baggie.

“What happened?”

“I didn’t realize she had a boyfriend,” he mutters. I look over. Yeah, the boyfriend is glaring in this direction. I raise an eyebrow, practically daring him to walk his ass over.

He’s stupid enough to try.

“You might want to tell you friend to find his own girl,” he growls.

“I won’t. First, he’s sitting right there. You want to tell him something, tell him. Second, if your girl was flirting with him, she clearly wanted some dick from the other side.”

I peer around him at his girlfriend, who looks upset but is actually smug. She wanted to provoke a fight. I guess she wanted to see if he really loves her.

Stupid bitch. Club fights are dangerous.

I anticipate the fist and it comes just as I expect. And just like last time, I hold it but this time, I send a pile driver into his gut. He drops.

“Go back to her, take her home, and fuck her till she can’t walk. This shit wasn’t about him. It was about you. Look at her face.” I turn his head so he can see her. Now she looks pale. “She wanted to see some caveman shit, wanted to see if you’d fight for her. Now that I’ve dropped you, she’s worried your ass might not make it home. So call it quits. He doesn’t want her now so you go fuck her.” I snort. “If you really wanna see some shit, walk out of here without her. Watch how fast she chases you.”

I let go of his fist and the guy stands, clutching his gut. His jaw clenches and his eyes flash angrily at me, but he turns and walks out of the club without a single backwards glance. His girlfriend runs after him, asking him if he’s OK.

I turn and the other recruits, and the RMSA men, grin and cheer for me. I smile. Slick hands me a beer.

“Psychological manipulation?”

I shake my head. “I’m from LA and Miami. That’s a standard Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday night thing.” Everyone laughs.

“Gay clubs too?” Ellis asks quietly.

I nod. “Gay clubs too.”

—oOo—

“Hello?”

“You have an interesting rep.”

He’s silent. “And?”

“I understand that that’s your past. You’re out of that.”

“Completely.”

“Then what do I need to know?”

“I’m the CIO for RangeMan. I’m unmarried—”

“Obviously.”

He laughs quietly. “My son is my first cousin, once removed. His mother’s name is Nikki. They live in Atlanta. Most of the tech guys in RangeMan are centered in Atlanta.”

“But you’re in Jersey.”

“It’s where I was born and raised. I trust my men. They know better than to fuck up.”‘

“Noted.”

“Same for my brothers. The Leadership Core. They’re fair in all things. Gave me a chance and that was definitely a gamble. I will never betray them.”

“OK.”

“What else do you want to know?”

“How did you get the body?”

He laughs. “RangeMan standards. Good luck.”

—oOo—

I check my RangeMan recruit email to find out my day’s assignment. The new corporate IM pops up.

Bar fights?

I smile. I’ve done a lot of different jobs.

You have tech skills. why that?

When I first got out, I didn’t want 2 b alone but I didn’t want 2 b around people.

Catch 22.

Right.

Ten minutes pass. I have to go soon.

Would you consider RMATL?

Why?

Tech is centered there.

Maybe.

I’ll keep that in mind.

—oOo—

I get a surprise letter during mail call.

“Peña?” I look up. Santos is approaching. “For you.”

Everyone is looking at me. I take it from him with a nod and start to walk away. Santos grins. “Oh no! I saw the return address. I wanna see.”

I check. Atlanta. I don’t know anyone in Atlanta. I open the envelope (9×13) and a drawing floats to the floor. I pick it up.

Manny.

It’s a picture of him in a pool with floaters on his little arms. Someone took his picture, turned it into a color by number, and he colored all over it. Not within a single line, but he used lots of blue. I grin; it’s adorable. At the bottom, there’s a message.

Thank you for teaching me how to swim! My mommy uses this to tire me out at the end of a long day now. Can’t wait to meet you!

Nikki and Manny.

I hear Santos laugh. “What are you doing in May?”

I look at him. “Why?”

“Because I’ve never gotten a hand-drawn picture from Manny but you have.” He grins. “We’re still gonna ride your ass, though.”

“Use lube,” I reply, and he walks off laughing, clutching his sides.

I put the picture back in the envelope carefully. I’ll need to get a frame.

—oOo—

I received a really nice thank you message from your son and his mother.

Don’t tell anyone. They’ll think I’m sentimental.

Santos saw it.

Shit!

—oOo—

“Peña!”

I turn. Lester looks both amused and pissed. “Sir?”

“What did you tell Gutierrez?”

I frown. “Nothing, sir. Why?”

All the recruits are staring at me. It’s now known that I met the CTO in Miami but I made sure everyone knew I met him after I applied to RangeMan and that the CO’s grandmother helped push my application after I helped her out at the beach.

I’m not an ‘affirmative action’ hire, as I heard someone mutter. That’s when they’re being nice. Some are wondering if he’s my boyfriend now.

I’d like an answer to that question too. I’d like to be his boyfriend.

“He’s cut off my fucking access to RangeWorld! Prick!”

I’m trying not to laugh.

“Completely fucking uncontrollable,” he mutters. “Why did we make him a partner?”

“Because of his skills and abilities, sir!” I reply.

He looks at me and groans. “Oh dear god. Not another one. Not another smart ass.” He snorts. “Please don’t encourage Hec. He rarely needs encouragement. I shudder to think what kind of trouble you two could get into in our Tech department.”

He walks off muttering about smart-aleck techies showing off and I smile.

My relationship with RangeMan and its CTO shows promise.

Now, what in the hell is going on in May?