Quinn narrowed his eyes at Spencer, who pretended not to have noticed. He helped Mimi get plates and cutlery from the cupboards.
“Are there more people coming?”
Like the rest of Quinn’s precinct? Because there was enough to feed several SWAT teams here. There was rice with beans,
yucca
, roast pork, Cuban bread with butter, salad, fried plantains, soft plantains, tamales, and two different desserts. He gasped and pointed to the sponge-cake thing with white cream frosting.
“Oh my God, I love that. What’s it called? Something milk?”
“
Tres leches
,” Mimi said proudly. “I made it.”
“Wow. That’s so good. Way more sugar than I should have, but it’s so tasty.”
Mimi ushered him to one of the chairs. “Come. Sit. Eat whatever you like.”
Quinn leaned over him, talking quietly. “I’d grab a plate and serve yourself before she does it for you. You’ll end up with more food than you could eat in a week.”
“Right.”
Spencer chuckled and took one of the dinner plates, making sure to serve himself a little bit of everything. Mimi tried to get him to add some more, but Quinn ran interference, promising Spencer would serve himself more if he were still hungry.
Quinn served himself his usual three-man meal, and they all sat around the kitchen island eating. Damn, this was good. Spencer let out a moan.
“Mimi, this is amazing.”
He was crunching down on a fried plantain when Quinn’s father spoke up.
“Are you and my son sleeping together?”
“Gabriel!” Mimi scolded.
Spencer almost choked on his plantain. He coughed and quickly sipped his soda while Quinn patted his back, a frown aimed at his father.
“Papi.”
Gabriel looked confused. “Que?”
“Excuse my husband,” Mimi said pleasantly. She patted Spencer’s leg. “He is not the most,
cómo se dice
….”
“Tactful,” Quinn offered.
“Sí.”
Spencer finished choking. When he could once again breathe, he shook his head. “No, sir. We’re just, um….”
“Friends,” Quinn said.
Spencer did his best to hold back his stupid smile. His heart was doing the cha-cha. That was twice now Quinn had told his parents they were friends, and although Spencer hoped they might become more, he couldn’t deny how ridiculously happy it made him that Quinn considered him to be a friend.
The doorbell rang, and Quinn let out a deep groan. “What now.”
“I’ll get it.”
Spencer jumped off his seat and headed for the door with Quinn deciding to follow anyway. Quinn looked through the peephole and cursed under his breath. Spencer stood to one side after opening the door. Half a dozen people flooded in—one of whom he recognized as Quinn’s brother-in-law, Rick. Was Quinn throwing a party and had forgotten to mention it?
Quinn gaped. “Seriously? All of you?”
“Ma called. She says you have a new boyfriend, and we wanted to come see. Is this him?”
Six pairs of eyes landed on Spencer. Now he knew what a deer in headlights felt like. He was getting ready to hide behind Quinn when the man’s face went up in flames. Quinn turned to his mother with wide eyes.
“Oh my God, Ma! You can’t just go around saying shit like that!”
“
Oye
, watch your language.” Mimi hopped down from her chair, her heels click-clacking on the tiled floor as she came over. She placed her hand on Spencer’s arm and smiled proudly. “These are my children.” She went one by one, pointing from left to right. “My youngest son, Robertico, and his
novia
, Marta; my oldest son, Alexi; my youngest daughter, Luz; and my oldest daughter, Beatriz. That is Rick, Beatriz’s husband. They have three beautiful children.” She turned back to Spencer. “You are homosexual, no?”
The sudden change in subject nearly gave him whiplash. “Um,
sí
,” Spencer replied.
“And you care about my son, no?”
Wow, how was he supposed to answer that? “Well, the thing is—”
“
Sí
,” Mimi said with a curt nod.
Spencer blinked. “What just happened?”
“Someone shoot me,” Quinn groaned. He covered his face with his hands, his younger brother giving him a hearty pat on the back.
“That already happened, bro.”
“Shut up,” Quinn snapped, and his brother cackled in amusement. He was clearly enjoying watching Quinn suffer. Meanwhile Beatriz was telling him to leave Quinn alone, while the younger sister was pointing furniture out to her older brother, saying something about trying to sneak in some flowers or something to make it look less like Quinn was getting ready to move out. As Spencer had suspected, the rest of Quinn’s family was as ridiculously good looking as Quinn. All the men were tall, tan, broad shouldered, and muscular, with chiseled jaws. The women were bronzed to perfection and curvy, with tiny waists and long legs. Spencer had never felt more out of place.
Quinn turned to his mother. “Look, Spencer and I are not involved. You can’t assume every gay man standing within a ten mile radius of me is my boyfriend.”
Mimi looked puzzled. “He takes care of you while you’re sick, cooks for you, makes you smile. Quinn, if he’s not your boyfriend, you tell me and I find him a good man who will appreciate him.” She brightened and turned to Spencer. “Miguel. Chicha’s boy.”
What or who was a Chicha? “Um… I’m not, uh—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Quinn warned, surprising Spencer.
Mimi placed her hands on her hips. “Miguel is a good boy.”
“Miguel is an arrogant, self-absorbed, overbearing prick.”
Mimi didn’t seem the least bit fazed by Quinn’s growl. “He is your cousin.”
“Exactly. I know him. Whenever he hooks up with someone, he uses them for their money, parades them around South Beach to his Ken doll friends, and then dumps them when he gets bored.”
“Quinn’s right,” Robertico said as he went through Quinn’s DVDs. “Miguel’s a total slut.”
Mimi gasped. “Robertico!”
“What? It’s true.” Abandoning the DVDs, he took hold of his girlfriend’s hand and led her to the counter, where he hugged his dad and snapped up a
tostón
to crunch on.
“No matchmaking,” Quinn warned his mother.
She pouted her red lips. “Pero—”
“No, Ma.”
“Está bien,” Mimi huffed, her arms folded over her chest.
Now Spencer knew where Quinn had gotten his pout.
“Have it your way. You’re going to be single forever.”
“Thanks,” Quinn muttered. He looked like he wanted to crawl under the nearest rock.
“
Cariño
, you’re embarrassing him in front of his not-boyfriend,” Gabriel pitched in.
Everyone laughed and swarmed around the counter, chatting and serving themselves food.
Spencer was about to join them when Quinn caught his arm. His cheeks were flushed, and he was having trouble meeting Spencer’s gaze.
“I’m really sorry about that. She gets a little ahead of herself at times. I understand if you don’t want to stick around.”
“Being accused of sleeping with you is hardly going to send me running,” Spencer replied.
Quinn looked down at him, relief etched on his handsome face.
“I’ve been accused of a lot worse.”
He winked at Quinn, who laughed and gave him a playful shove. Spencer gasped.
“That’s assault, Officer
Julian
.”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Quinn poked Spencer in the ribs, making him squirm.
“Stop. I’m ticklish.” In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have given away his weakness.
“Come on.”
Quinn headed back to the counter, and Spencer followed. He noticed Mimi pull Quinn in for a kiss on the cheek before whispering something in his ear. Quinn scratched his head, looking embarrassed before he nodded. He returned her kiss and whispered something back. Spencer didn’t get a chance to wonder what they were talking about before he was pulled into a conversation about Quinn’s apartment by Luz.
There were moments when Spencer thought they might be arguing. He couldn’t really tell since it was usually in Spanish or a combination of English and Spanish—which Spencer understood was the norm in Miami—but he quickly discovered it was just how they talked. When they did argue, it was brief, and the next minute it was as if it hadn’t happened.
It sounded like there were a lot more people in the room than there were, and Spencer noticed how they all tried to include him in their conversations. They pulled him over, laughed, and teased each other. They asked him lots of questions about himself and his life, but Spencer didn’t mind. They were genuinely interested in finding out more about him and who he was. Spencer mentioned his design services, and Robertico excitedly rambled off ideas for a website he wanted to put together and how he wanted to see some of Spencer’s work.
By dessert Spencer was winded. He tried keeping up with all the names of everyone mentioned—family members who lived in Jersey, family members in Cuba, and other family scattered across the globe. Mimi kept trying to get him to eat more food until Quinn stepped in and told her Spencer would have more later on. It seemed the only way she could be convinced Spencer wasn’t still starving. His jeans were tight from how much he’d eaten.
Once they were done, everyone kissed and hugged. They all hugged Spencer and kissed his cheek, even the men. Spencer was amazed. He’d never seen anything like it. They were all so affectionate. Mimi was constantly fussing over everyone, even Spencer. They invited him to a cousin’s daughter’s birthday. Mimi made Quinn promise to bring him along, and both of them nervously agreed to go. Spencer had never been to a
quinceañera
party. Apparently they were a regular occurrence and about as big an event as a wedding. It took the Quintero family another hour to make it out the door, and by then Spencer had been unofficially adopted. The door closed, and he joined Quinn on the couch.
“Wow.” He had no other words to describe the whirlwind he’d just been swept up in.
Quinn let out another one of his noncommittal grunts. “For the record, I’m not ashamed of my heritage. I mean, you saw what happened. That’s pretty much all the time. And that’s not even my whole family. You’d need a damn stadium to fit everyone in. Everyone’s always in everyone else’s business, giving advice, telling me what I should do with my life, who I should date, what I should eat. I know they mean well, but it just gets a bit much sometimes, you know?”
“Not really. My dad left when I was five, my mom did her best to raise me on her own, and the rest of the family didn’t want to know.” When he tried to recall his dad, his features were fuzzy, like a blurred-out photograph.
Quinn ran a hand over his hair with a heavy sigh. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
Spencer shrugged. “It’s hard to miss someone who was never there. Must be nice to have someone make a fuss over you. In your case, lots of someones. Shows they care. I’ve been heating up my own SpaghettiOs since I was six.” He stood and shoved his hands awkwardly into his pockets. “Anyway, I had a great time. I really like your family. I should probably get going, let you get some rest.”
“You don’t have to.” Quinn must have caught the surprise on Spencer’s face, because he quickly elaborated. “You can hang around, I mean. Put on a movie or something. I’m not feeling tired. Not after all that
tres leches
.”
“Tell me about it. But damn, that spongy stuff is so good.” Spencer toed off his shoes and walked over to the DVD rack, smiling when he spotted an unexpected title among several action movies.
“What?” Quinn asked, craning his neck to get a better look at the movie in Spencer’s hand.
“No way.” Spencer could barely contain his grin. He spun on his heels and held up the DVD.
Quinn’s eyes went wide. “Shit.”
“You have
Magic Mike
?” How had he not noticed it before? Spencer chuckled at Quinn’s sudden interest in the couch cushion. He brushed off some nonexistent dust.
“It was a Christmas present from my sister.”
“Right.” Spencer laughed. “Because nothing says family holidays like strippers.”
“Shut up.”
Spencer gasped. “They didn’t.”
Quinn folded his arms over his chest, his gaze everywhere but on Spencer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“They watched it with you, didn’t they?” This was too good. He dashed over to the couch and climbed up beside Quinn. He waved the DVD at him. “Admit it.”
Quinn shook his head but didn’t say a word.
“Oh my God!” Spencer fell back onto the couch, holding his stomach as he burst into peals of laughter. “You watched
Magic Mike
with your mom!”
“It’s not like I sat watching porno with her.”
“Close enough.”
Quinn swiped the DVD from him and tossed it onto the coffee table. “You think that’s funny?”
Spencer laughed until he had tears in his eyes. He could just picture Quinn sitting there mortified as his mom provided commentary. “I think that’s fucking hilarious.”
“I’ll show you hilarious.” Quinn grabbed Spencer around the waist and dragged him onto his lap before tickling him under his arms.
“Shit. Stop!” Spencer writhed and twisted. He curled up as Quinn tickled him relentlessly. He took hold of Spencer’s bare foot. “No! Not there,” Spencer squealed and kicked out in the hopes of getting his foot away from Quinn, but the guy was stronger. In a desperate attempt to get away, he made to sit up and threw his arm up, smacking Quinn in the nose.
“Fuck!”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” Spencer sat up and carefully shifted, mindful of his weight on Quinn. He took hold of Quinn’s face and looked him over. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
Quinn wrinkled his nose and shook his head, a broad smile coming onto his face. “Nah, I’m good.”
It occurred to Spencer then that he was straddling Quinn’s lap, his hands on Quinn’s stubbly jaw. He dropped his eyes to Quinn’s mouth, his dick twitching in his pants when Quinn ran his tongue over his bottom lip. His deep brown eyes darkened, and Quinn’s hands slid up to his waist before moving under his shirt, his thumb stroking Spencer’s skin, sending a shiver through him. Not giving it any thought, Spencer covered Quinn’s mouth with his.