“Okay, off to the grocers we go.” Quinn led the way with Tristan beside him. He had to hold in a laugh at the way his little friend looked. The guy had no idea the attention he was drawing, and Quinn wasn’t going to clue him in on it either. It would only make him feel awkward, and he wasn’t going to have that.
“Do I still get to have my Skittles, sir?” Tristan’s eyes were once again darting around, looking for a threat Quinn was clueless about.
“That was the deal.” He made sure he walked ahead so he could grab the door this time, allowing Tristan to walk in ahead of him.
“I understand if you don’t want to get them. Deals sometimes have to be broken.”
“Not when I make one.” Just who in the hell had broken this poor man? “You grab a cart while I see what we need.”
Tristan struggled to get the cart from the row. It appeared to be hooked onto the last one. Quinn took mercy on him and unhinged the two carts, freeing it for his jellybean to push.
Tristan began to slowly move from side to side as the music played overhead. “You like that song?”
Tristan grinned and nodded. The feather almost looked as though it were taking flight as it flapped up and down. “It has a nice beat to it.” Tristan’s hips snapped from side to side as his finger pointed to the ceiling and waggled from side to side.
Wow, Tristan didn’t say sir. Maybe music was the answer?
Quinn, never caring what anyone thought of him, began to dance down the aisle with Tristan. “It does, doesn’t it?” He laughed as Tristan’s lips soured, and he began to snap his hips from side to side. Quinn moonwalked back to the guy. “We should shop while we dance.” He did a pirouette and grabbed a few boxes of cereal, tossing them into the cart.
“Watch, watch.” Tristan said excitedly as he ran to a shelf and grabbed a few cans of soup, tossing them in as he danced around the cart. Quinn was having a great time and enjoyed seeing Tristan so at ease. He no longer resembled a broken puppy, but a man who was flourishing.
“I can top that.” Quinn grabbed boxes of Wheat Thins and made a jump shot, cupping his mouth as he cheered like a crowd was rooting for him.
“Try it again.” Tristan laughed.
Quinn grabbed another box and jumped, Tristan running forward and batting it into the cart, making a one in a million shot.
“I did it, I did it.” Tristan jumped up and down excitedly.
He absolutely loved Tristan like this.
“Hey, look.” Quinn pointed to a rack of arts and crafts. “Get whatever supplies you need to draw with.” It wasn’t much coming from a grocery store, but it would have to do until Quinn could go online and order the more professional items. Maybe he could even get Tristan’s input on what he wanted.
Tristan picked the sketchpad up with the least amount of pages in it. Quinn picked up the one with the most. “That way we won’t have to run back here when you need more.”
“I won’t use all my paper up.” Tristan clutched the pad to his chest and turned away, as if it were the lost treasure of Atlantis in his arms.
“I would still rather you take this one.” Quinn tugged a little and Tristan released it, grabbing onto the one Quinn handed him. Just how much does he like drawing?
“Get the supplies, too,” Quinn said as he pointed to the selection of colored pencils and erasers.
“He looks like a colorblind pimp.” Two men came walking down the aisle, one pointing at Tristan as he laughed. “How much do you get for that boy next to you?”
Boy? Quinn was no fucking boy, but a full-grown man and was about to show these two shitheads what this man could do. “I’d leave him alone if I were you.” Quinn took a protective step in front of Tristan, ready to add both of them to the produce selection if they didn’t back off.
The loudmouth’s lip pulled back in a snarl as he looked Quinn up and down in distaste. “I’m getting tired of seeing fags in this town. Why don’t you and Sir Pimp-A-Lot get the hell out of this nice god-fearing town while you still can?”
Quinn’s brows shot to his hairline as Tristan dropped to the floor and onto his knees, his head lowering as his hands rested on his thighs.
Oh shit, just what they didn’t need right now.
The two cowboys laughed maliciously, one taking a step toward the downed man. Quinn growled and got into the cowboy’s face. “Get the fuck away from him!”
“Is there a problem?”
Quinn didn’t look behind him to see who was asking. He couldn’t afford to. This Billy Bob would have a split-second advantage if he did.
“Taking up for the queers again, Sheriff?” The man took a step back from Quinn, his snarled lip pulling up tighter as they locked eyes.