Read Edward Unconditionally Common Powers 3 for Free Online

about Jack?”
    “What about him?” Russell asked warily.
    “He wouldn't by any chance be gay too?” Edward turned and looked out the window, not positive if he wanted to know. It didn't matter anyway; Jack was not his type. Repeat. Not his type.
    “Here's the garage, Mr. Beauregard.” The cop pulled up in front of the door and waited for Edward to get out.
    “Thank you, Officer Russell.” Edward leaned down and smiled at him. “Nice to meet you.”
    “Same here. See you around.” Russell gave him a salute and pulled away, leaving Edward's question about Jack unanswered.
    Edward slung his jacket over his shoulder and went inside the shop's office.
    Behind the counter, a young man in a blue work shirt with the name PHIL embroidered above the pocket looked up. His eyes widened as his gaze traveled up and down Edward.
    “Can I help you?” he asked, trying to keep a straight face.
    Anger prickled Edward's skin as he read the man's expression. This guy was going to give him a hard time. He braced himself and walked to the counter.
    “Yes. I came to pick up the red Miata. The tire was flat.”
    “Oh, right. Hold on.” Phil stepped to a door that led to the service bays, opened it, and leaned out. “Is the Miata ready?”
    Someone called back something, and Phil stepped out where Edward couldn't hear him, then came back in.
    “It's done.” He stole several glances at Edward as he worked with the papers.
    Edward leaned against the counter and tried to see what the man was doing.
    “That's one hundred and seventy-one dollars and fifty-seven cents.”
    “Is that for a new tire?” Edward asked.
    “Yep. And the tow. Couldn't fix the old tire. You can't fix two holes in the sidewalls. How'd you manage to do that?”
    Edward just shrugged. He definitely wasn't telling this jerk.
    Just then another man, older and covered in grease stains, came through the bay door. “This the guy?” He had JIMMY embroidered over his pocket. With the grease on his clothes and his hands, Edward figured him for the mechanic. As the man stared at him, Edward's stomach started a slow slide down to the bottom, where fear waited.
    “Yep. That's him.” The younger man stepped back, not bothering to hide his sneer.
    “Un-fucking-be-liev-able. Well, aren't you pretty?” He gave a low whistle as he shook his head. “I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it.”
    Edward glared at Phil. “Is my car ready or not?” The office felt too small, and the urge to bolt washed over him, but he locked his knees and stood firm.
    “It's ready. What's your hurry?” Jimmy asked.
    Edward hadn't been in a hurry; he just wanted to avoid any more trouble. He'd certainly met his quota for today. Okay, for the next year. Besides, the next time he saw the police chief, he didn't want to be wearing a set of shiny new handcuffs. Or sporting a lovely black plastic body bag.
    He placed his credit card on the counter and pushed it at the young man, but the older man snatched it up. “Edward P. Beauregard I-I-I . What's that mean?”
    “May I speak with the manager?” Edward kept his lips tight, he'd dealt with people like this ever since he'd come out.
    The guy from the front desk stepped up. “Let me have that, Jimmy.” He took the card from the man, wiped it clean, and ran it through the machine. “Better get back to work.”
    Jimmy returned to the garage but stopped in the doorway and turned back. “I swear. Ever since those two faggots took up residence here, the place is swarming with them. Spring Lake is going to be the next San Fran-fucking-cisco, if you ask me.”
    How did three gay men make a swarm? Was that like a herd of elephants or a school of fish? Shouldn't it be something like a quorum of queers or a gaggle of gays?
    The young man snickered and held out the receipt and the credit card. Edward signed them, handed him the yellow copy, and held out his hand, palm up. “My keys?”
    “In the car. Jimmy'll bring it out for