Here’s a little Migration Moment, a look into Rhys and Jason’s lives together. Takes place before book one.
“Jason Tambor,” Rhys said as he pulled the car into the gas station. “Have I told you how much I love you lately?”
“You’d better,” Jason replied. “Otherwise this is going to be a pretty awkward road trip for the next ten days.” Jason bobbed his eyebrows at Rhys, which never failed to garner a smile. He pointed towards the bustling store beyond the pumps. “Want anything?” he asked as he reached for the door.
“No thanks,” Rhys said as he relaxed in the seat.
Jason walked behind the car, Rhys catching his eye in the side mirror. A moment later, Jason was standing next to his window. “Oh, Boo?” Jason said as he tapped on the glass.
Rhys rolled down the window. “Yeah?”
“We’re in California,” Jason said as he glanced around.
“So this isn’t Oregon. You have to pump your own gas.”Rhys blushed. “I knew that,” he said, then stepped out of the car. Together five years and Jason could still get him flustered.
Rhys started the pump as he basked in the warm coastal weather. Theirs was the only car at the pumps until a convertible pulled in behind them. A woman with oversized sunglasses got out, her long auburn hair, the color of sand that gets stuck to your flip-flops, waving in a sudden breeze. She was wearing a bikini made out of the same amount of material that went into a roll of stamps, and even though Rhys was gay, the sheer amount of flesh on display made him gawp. The click-click-click sound as she walked caused Rhys to look down, and he realized her outfit was finished off with a pair of impossibly high heels. His mind flashed the word, ‘impractical.’
“Hi there,” she drawled as she pulled off her sunglasses. She put an arm under her ample bosom as if making an offering.
“Umm, hi.” Out of the corner of his eye, Rhys saw Jason stopped dead in his tracks. And even though he wanted to turn to his boyfriend for help, for some reason, all he could focus on was the sheer amount of flesh suddenly in his personal space.
The woman’s face broke into a broad smile, whitened teeth glistening in the sun as fingers twirled at her hair. “Can you help me? I’m ever so bad at this kind of thing,” and gestured for the gas pump.
“Uhh,” Rhys said as he blindly reached for the gas pump.
“Wrong tree, sister,” Jason called as he confidently strode to Rhys’ side. He put a possessive arm around Rhys as he gave the woman his best smile, then nodded to the woman’s breasts. “Those things don’t work on us.”
And just like that, the stupor that had wrapped up Rhys dissipated. A blush overtook his face as he made quick work of his own gas pump, then got in the car as the sound of retreating high heels looked for help elsewhere.
Jason handed him a bottle of water as Rhys pulled the car back out into traffic. He welcomed the coolness, first taking a sip and then rolling the bottle across his forehead. When Jason snickered, he turned. “What?”
“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Jason said, then dropped a kiss against his shoulder.