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“We might have a child. In a little over a year. My Wellsie’s pregnant, but our females have a very difficult time in childbirth.” Tohrment shook his head, lips growing tight. “As you get older, you’ll learn to fear pregnancy. It’s a goddamn shellan robber. Frankly, I’d rather have no kids than lose her.” The man cleared his throat. “Anyway, let’s head in. We’ll eat, and then I’ll take you on a full tour of the training center.”

Tohrment hit the garage door opener and got out. While John tugged the suitcase from the backseat, the man took the ten-speed out of the rear. They walked into the garage and Tohrment flipped on the lights.

“I’m going to leave your bike here against the wall, okay?”

John nodded and looked around. There was a Volvo station wagon and…a 1960’s-era Corvette Sting Ray convertible.

John could only stare.

Tohrment laughed softly. “Why don’t you go over and say hello to her?”

John dropped his suitcase and walked up to the Vette in a daze of love. He reached out, wanting to stroke the smooth metal, but then took his hand back.

“No, touch her. She likes the attention.”

Oh, the car was beautiful. A shiny, metallic ice blue. And the top was down so he could see inside. The white seats were gorgeous. The steering wheel gleamed. The dashboard was all dials. He was willing to bet it sounded like thunder when the engine was started. Probably smelled like fresh oil when you put the heater on.

He glanced up at Tohrment, thinking his eyes were going pop. He wished he could talk, just to tell the man how special the car was.

“Yeah, she’s a looker, isn’t she? Restored her myself. I’m about to put her up on blocks for the winter, but maybe we’ll take her to the center tonight, how about that? It’s chilly, but we can pile on the coats.”

John beamed. And kept on grinning as the man’s heavy arm came around his thin shoulders.

“Let’s feed you, son.”

Tohrment picked up the suitcase and they headed for the door John’s bike was next to. As they walked into the house, the smell of Mexican food wafted, spicy and rich.

John’s nose was thrilled. His stomach rolled. Holy hell, he wasn’t going to be able to eat any of that kind of stuff. What if Tohrment’s wife got upset…?

A stunning redhead stepped into their paths. She was easily six feet tall, had skin as fine as white china, and was wearing a loose yellow dress. Her hair was just incredible, a flowing river of waves falling from the crown of her head way down her back.

John put an arm around his middle, hiding the buttonhole.

“How’s my hellren?” the woman said, lifting her mouth for Tohrment’s kiss.

“I’m good, leelan. Wellsie, this is John Matthew. John, this is my shellan.”

“Welcome, John.” She offered her hand. “I’m so happy you’ll be staying with us.”

John shook her palm and quickly put his arm back in place.

“Come on, boys. Dinner’s ready.”

The kitchen was all cherry cupboards, granite counter-tops, and glossy black appliances. A round glass-and-iron table set with three places was in a windowed alcove. Everything looked brand-new.

“You two go sit,” Wellsie said. “I’ll bring the food.”

He looked to the sink. It was white porcelain with a graceful brass faucet rising up high.

“You want to wash your hands?” she said. “Go right ahead.”

There was a bar of soap in a little dish, and he was careful to clean everywhere, even under his fingernails. After he and Tohrment sat down, Wellsie came over with plates and bowls heaping with food. Enchiladas. Quesadillas. She went back for more.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Tohrment said as he served himself, piling his plate high. “Wellsie, this looks fantastic.”

John eyed the display. There was nothing he could stomach on the table. Maybe he could just tell them he ate earlier….

Wellsie put a bowl down in front of him. It was filled with white rice that had some kind of pale sauce on it. The aroma was delicate, but appealing.

“This will ease your stomach. It’s got ginger in it,” she said. “And