by Sue Brown
Another guy, with short dark hair and a furious expression, arrived with a pack of ice wrapped in a towel and a glass of ice water. “Here, put that on your nose.”
Keenan nodded and wished he hadn’t as pain shot through his head and a fresh gust of blood dripped from his nose. He placed the ice pack on his nose and sighed as the cold numbed the area.
“What the hell happened, Gideon?” the shorter guy demanded of the tall man as he mopped up the blood on the table. He ignored Keenan’s attempts to clean the table himself.
Gideon shrugged, but he looked sheepish. “I punched him, darlin’.”
Keenan blinked. Darlin’? That was a bit friendly. Then his words sunk in. “You were the one who hit me?”
“What the hell did you do that for?” the man demanded.
“I was showing Ariel a tai chi move. I didn’t realize how close I was to the door. I put my arm out, and you walked into it.” His arm shot out in demonstration and Keenan flinched back. Gideon realized and dropped his arm. “It was bad timing.”
Because everyone walked into a fist when they opened a door. Keenan blinked at him, his eyes watering now. Could this day get any worse? “I thought tai chi was supposed to be calming,” he managed.
“It is if this lunk isn’t the one doing it,” the man grumbled. “How are you feeling?”
Keenan cautiously touched his nose. “I don’t think it’s broken. How does it look?”
The man inspected his face. “You’re gonna have two shiners by the end of the day.”
Keenan groaned. “Just my luck.”
“I’ll get you a drink. Gideon can pay for it.”
This was Gideon? The Gideon? The one who made booty calls to his husband?
“I’m married to the boss,” Gideon said, sounding hopeful. “He could cut me a break.”
“Not a chance,” the man said flatly. “Buy him a drink and make it a double.”
Gideon held up his hands. “Give the man what he wants, darlin’.”
Keenan had a feeling he was in the middle of some long-running farce he knew nothing about. “I’m supposed to be here for an interview with Dan. I’m not going to drink first. Do you know where he is? I’m probably late now. What is the time?”
The man cocked his head. “Keenan Day?” He ignored all Keenan’s questions.
“Yes. Are you expecting me?”
“Yes, I’m Dan Taylor. This idiot is my husband, Gideon.” He held out his hand and then took it back. “Don’t worry about that. You keep the ice on your nose. You were the guy who called this morning for the bartending job?”
Keenan nodded and winced again as pain shot through his nose and spread out through his face. He had to stop doing that. He hastily accepted another paper towel from Dan as his nose dripped again.
“You did security,” Dan said. “Why do you want to work in a bar?”
“I need a job,” Keenan admitted. “We all got laid off yesterday, and I can’t afford to be out of work. I thought I could do with a change of scene.”
“It’s long hours on your feet,” Dan warned. “And this is a blue-collar bar.”
“I can deal with the hours, and I worked on construction sites.” He eyed Gideon with trepidation. “Getting pummeled isn’t part of the job, is it?” Keenan had to be careful with any head trauma, and the idea of regularly being punched in the face didn’t appeal.
“Not recently,” Dan said with a wealth of meaning in his tone. Keenan didn’t understand it, but Gideon obviously did, judging from the way he rolled his eyes.
“How about you have a drink, we’ll talk some more, and then you have a trial session tomorrow? Usually I’d do that as part of the interview, but I don’t think you’re up for it today.”
Keenan wanted to protest he was fine, but as his nose was still bleeding and his head ached, he said, “Sounds good to me.” Bleeding into the drinks probably wasn’t good customer service.
“Gideon can drive you home later.” The flat tone suggested Gideon would do as he was told, and there was no protest from the big man as he got to his feet.
“What do you want to drink, Keenan?” Gideon asked.
“Whiskey on the rocks, thanks.” One drink, and then he would stick to coffee.
“Good choice,” Gideon said and headed to the bar.
Dan took his place and slid into the banquette. He eyed Keenan and seemed to like what he saw, because his expression eased. After a moment he asked, “Why did you get laid off?”
“The company folded. It was a small family-run construction firm. It just couldn’t keep up with the big guys.” Keenan felt real sorrow at the fate of the company. The family who had owned the firm were genuinely good people, and Keenan knew he’d been lucky to find a job he loved, even if it had been with his parents’ help.
“Do you have a résumé?”
Keenan pulled a plastic folder out of his jacket and gingerly handed it over, because his hands were still covered in blood.
Dan skimmed through the sparse information and looked up in surprise. “You went to college and graduated with a degree in medical biochemistry. Why didn’t you go into the field?”
Keenan had been prepared for the question. He pushed his hair away from one side of his head to expose his scalp. Dan’s eyes widened as he took in the three-inch long scar. “The summer I graduated, I took a job as a porter in my local hospital. It was supposed to be a relaxing summer before I started work in a laboratory. The husband of one of the patients objected to what the doctor was doing. I tried to stop him attacking the doctor and he shoved me so hard I fell and cracked my head on the bed. When I woke up, any chance I had of working in a laboratory was gone. I was in rehab for months just learning to walk and talk. It was an unlucky accident. I’m fine now. I work hard and I live alone,” he said hastily. “I just don’t have the skills I had before.” He tried not to sound bitter. After six years he should have gotten over it.
Dan looked at him and then at the scar again. “What effect does it have on you?”
“If I get too tired, I get clumsy. Apart from that, I can manage pretty much anything you throw at me. Except fists.” Keenan let his hair fall. “Have I talked myself out of a job?”
“You’ve been honest,” Dan said, “but you are going to be tired. Why don’t we start with the trial session and see what happens?”
Gideon returned with the whiskey and a plate of pretzels. He slid in beside Dan and laid his arm along the back of the booth. “Have you finished with the interrogation?”
Dan huffed but leaned into him. “We call it an interview, Gideon.”
“If he can pull beer, he can do the job.”
“And that’s why we still have Liam,” Dan said pointedly.
Gideon flinched. “Point taken. So? Will he do?”
Keenan waited for Dan to tell Gideon about his disability, but Dan just nodded.
“He’ll do if he can get through the trial session tomorrow. Any questions, Keenan?”
“So you two are married?” He had no idea why that suddenly popped out, but he was fixed with a hard stare from Gideon.
“Dan is mine.”
“Down, boy,” Dan said, and from the movement, Keenan guessed he patted Gideon’s thigh. “He gets the idea.”
“He’d better,” Gideon growled.
“I do,” Keenan said hastily.
“Keenan? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He turned to see Ramon grinning at him. Keenan stood to shake his hand, forgetting about the blood, and a spray covered the table and his résumé. Dan hastily handed him a wad of paper napkins, and Keenan wiped his nose.
The smile faded from Ramon’s face, and he leaned in to study his face. “What happened to you?”
Keenan resisted the urge to look away. “Nothing. It was an accident. I’m fine. Where’s Karen?”
“Be thankful she’s back at the precinct or she’d be furious. Your nose is bleeding, and I can see the start of two black eyes. What happened?”<
br />
“I ran into a fist,” Keenan said dryly, taking grim satisfaction in seeing Gideon’s wince out of the corner of his eye.
“Do you want to press charges?”
That deep growl didn’t come from Ramon, but from a voice Keenan recognized—his stranger from a week ago. Keenan stared at him, appreciating the sight of Nate in a dark gray suit, a charcoal gray shirt, and a gray tie with midnight blue stripes. He looked edible. Nate wasn’t staring at him with the hot intensity of their first meeting. Instead he was scowling at Keenan. He was still gorgeous. Keenan’s thoughts drifted to stripping Nate out of his suit.
“Keenan?” Ramon interrupted his hungry gazing. “Do you want to press charges?”
“Uh… no.” Keenan remembered not to shake his head. “Definitely not.”
“Who hit you?” Nate said, anger evident in his voice.
“Who are you?” Dan asked.
“This is Detective Nate Gordon,” Ramon said. “Gordon, this is Keenan Day.”
“We’ve met,” Nate said, his intense gaze on Keenan, who flushed. “Who hit you?” he repeated.
Gideon sighed and sat up. “I did.”
Ramon’s jaw dropped. “You hit Keenan?”
“It was an accident. You see—”
Nate held up his hand. “Wait.” From the shocked look on Gideon’s face, not many people cut him off. “Keenan, do you need to get checked out at the ER?”
That was the last thing Keenan wanted to do. With his history, they’d rack up the bills running all sorts of tests he didn’t want. “I’m fine. And don’t you even think of telling Karen,” he said to Ramon, who was about to speak.
Nate furrowed his thick brows. “Karen?”
“Karen Day,” Ramon said.
“Karen Day is your sister?” Nate asked.
“Twin sister,” Keenan said dryly. “Do you know her?”
“Nate is the new man at the precinct,” Ramon said. “So, you two already know each other?”
Keenan could hear the curiosity in his voice. He was in for some hard questions later.
“We’ve met,” Nate said.
If Keenan had any fantasies of finding a quiet space with Nate, they vanished as he took that on board. There was no way he could pursue a relationship with his sister’s co-worker. It was just his luck that the gorgeous gay man who’d walked into his life was suddenly very unavailable.
“Well, it’s a small world,” Gideon said brightly.
The guy must have a hide like a rhino, because he didn’t flinch as Nate, Ramon, Dan, and Keenan glared at him. Although, when you were built like Gideon, Keenan figured there wasn’t much that could intimidate you.
Nate on the other hand, didn’t seem remotely intimidated by Gideon. “Do you want me to arrest Taylor?” he asked Keenan.
“What the hell?” Gideon asked.
Ramon sighed and waved a hand at Dan and Gideon. “Nate, this is Dan. He owns Cowboys and Angels. And the guy you’re threatening to arrest is his husband, Gideon Taylor. He owns Dan and most of Brooklyn.”
Dan spluttered as everyone except Keenan laughed.
An icy knot formed in the pit of Keenan’s stomach as Ramon’s introduction sunk in. “You’re Gideon Taylor? Of C&A Holdings?”
Gideon smiled and nodded. “That’s right.”
Keenan left the melting ice pack on the table and got to his feet. “I’m sorry. I can’t work for you. Thanks for the interview. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
Chapter 4
HE BOLTED out of the booth, ignoring the calls behind him as he pushed through the crowd of customers to reach the front door. The fume-laden evening air was almost a relief after the heat and noise of the bar. He set off down the sidewalk, not really sure where he was going. The punch must have addled him more than he first thought. His head was throbbing, and his eyes were hurting. His mom was going to have a fit if she saw him.
“Keenan. Wait.”
A large hand wrapped around his arm, bringing him to an unwilling halt before he’d gotten ten steps away. Keenan looked at Nate and then pointedly at Nate’s hand, but the detective didn’t take the hint. People eyed them curiously, and Keenan realized they probably thought he was being arrested. He must look like a thug with a bruised face and blood dripping from his nose.
Nate seemed oblivious to anyone around them. He frowned at Keenan. “Why did you take off like that?”
“What’s it got to do with you?”
Nate’s frown deepened. “You’re having a job interview with the guy who punched you in the face. One mention of his name, and you’re off like a scared rabbit.”
“I’m not scared,” Keenan scoffed. “And I was being interviewed by his husband.”
“Then why did you run away?”
Keenan tugged his arm, but Nate didn’t let go. He huffed in annoyance, knowing he wasn’t going anywhere until Nate got his explanation. “I got laid off yesterday. I worked in security for a construction company.”
He paused, waiting for the wannabe-cop crack he normally received from the police, but Nate nodded. “I’m sorry. Go on.”
Nate’s voice was kind, and Keenan’s hackles subsided.
“I’ve worked for the same firm for several years. They couldn’t compete against the big boys. Last week they got bought out. The new firm laid off all their staff.”
“And you came for an interview as a bartender at Cowboys and Angels?”
“Yeah. I heard the bar was looking for staff, so I called them up this morning. I was here for an interview, only Gideon punched me as soon as I walked in the door. It really was an accident. He was showing his daughter a tai chi move.”
“So what’s the problem?” Nate asked. “He apologized for hitting you. You seemed to be doing fine.”
Keenan sighed. “C&A Holdings owns the company that bought my old firm. He’s the one that laid me off.”
“I don’t think he did it personally.”
Great. Now Nate made him feel about six inches tall. Keenan pressed his lips together. “I know that, but the family that owned the firm are important to me. I’d feel disloyal if I worked for him.”
Nate frowned again. “I thought his husband owned the bar.”
“Potato, potahto,” Keenan snapped. He tugged his arm again, and this time Nate let go.
Nate sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You look like crap.”
“Thanks,” Keenan said dryly. He felt like crap, but he didn’t need to be told by a guy he had the hots for.
“Are you hungry?”
Keenan blinked, confused by the sudden change in subject. “Uh… I guess.”
“I missed lunch. Come to think of it, I missed breakfast too. There’s a sports bar a block away. Beer and wings?”
Keenan’s head had started to thump. He would have preferred to crawl into bed and forget about the day rather than sit in a noisy sports bar, but Nate seemed to want his company and he wanted to get to know Nate. He forced a smile. “Sure.”
Nate didn’t seem offended by his less-than-enthusiastic response. “Great.”
He was very conscious of the intense presence of the man next to him as they walked the block to the bar. Nate radiated confidence, and when Keenan wasn’t feeling as though he’d been run over by a Mack truck, he appreciated that confidence. They were close enough in height that it was easy to fall into step with Nate. Keenan struggled to remember the last time he’d walked out with a guy. His love life was intermittent at best, more a series of hookups at clubs. Not working office hours didn’t leave much time for dating.
“Earth to Keenan?” Nate said. From the impatient tone, he’d said it more than once.
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?”
“Just thinking,” Keenan admitted. “It’s been a while since I dated a guy.”
“A date?” Nate turned to look at him. “You’re thinking about dating?”
Keenan flushed. Fuck, he should have kept his mouth shut. “It’s been a lo
ng time since I went anywhere with a guy. Walking next to you made me think about it. Security work didn’t leave a lot of time for a social life.”
“I don’t date,” Nate said finally.
Keenan glanced at him. “You don’t date?”
Nate shook his head. “Not since I got here. Like you, the hours are a problem, and it’s easier just to hook up with a guy at a bar. It’s a rule.”
“You have rules for dating?” Keenan remembered Ramon’s comment about the new guy hating people being late for meetings. Perhaps Nate had a stick up his ass about dating too.
“I don’t see most guys more than once. It’s easier that way. No commitments, no demands on me.”
Keenan thought it sounded cold and lonely. He lived much the same life but not because he wanted to. He’d always wanted a relationship.
“You dated back home?” Keenan asked.
Nate’s expression darkened. “Yeah. We were together for years. He married someone else.”
Ouch. No wonder Nate had sworn off dating. It was enough to put any man off commitment. Keenan decided to change the subject. He remembered that brief flash of recognition on Nate’s face outside Mane Event. “When we first met, you recognized my name.”
“When I first saw you, I thought you reminded me of someone I knew,” Nate said. “Even when you gave me your name, I didn’t put it together until this afternoon. Day—Karen—talks about her family.”
Keenan groaned. “I bet she does.” He could just imagine what she said.
Nate chuckled. “She’s very proud of her family.”
“My sisters are amazing,” Keenan admitted grudgingly. He might bitch about them, but he was proud of all of them. Karen had worked her tail off to become a detective. Sarah managed her own accounting business in addition to her family, and Emma, the middle one of the siblings, was an OR nurse.
“She’s proud of you too. I should have realized who you were when we first met. You two are mirror images of each other.”