In a future where outposts swelter beneath a nuclear sun and run-gunners patrol dusty wastelands to protect against winged creatures known as devlars, Trin is the mech at the waystation in Arens. He has a thing for the gunners: rough men with strong hands and hard bodies, who roll through his garage like the hot desert wind. Gerrick’s the best gunner around, a quick draw with a deadly aim and a penchant for sharing his pallet with young men. He has a roving eye and roaming hands, and has left a string of broken hearts in his wake. Having heard the tales of Gerrick's bravery and seen the man in action for himself, Trin has fallen in love with the man he believes Gerrick to be, and he’s sure he can change the gunner’s mind if given the chance. Gerrick’s all he wants out of this blasted world, and he tells anyone who will listen. Then Gerrick rides through Arens. He’s heard the rumors of what Trin will do for a gunner who only mentions his name. What he wants to know is, what will Trin do for him?

Trin

“He’ll want to eat,” he explains. Closer now, the gunner flashes them a bright smile that Trin feels in the pit of his belly, a cocky, sexy, grin. Not taking his gaze off the man, he says, “There’ll be others right behind him. Go.”


She hesitates. The gunner’s eyes flicker over Trin’s shoulder, register her presence without really seeing her, then find Trin’s face again. One hand comes out in welcome. “Hey,” he drawls, that grin never slipping. Trin finds himself clasping the man’s hand in greeting. A strong hand, sure and steady. Hands that would feel right on his body. As if thinking the same thing, the gunner’s smile widens. “You the mech here?”


“Yeah.” Behind him, footsteps race away and Trin chances a look over his shoulder to see Aissa disappear out the back door, running for the kitchen. With a nod at the truck beyond the bay doors, he asks, “What can I do for you today?”


Chapter 43