by Sue Brown
“Stand down, soldier. I’m not trying to offend you.”
“Are you sure?” Keenan snapped. Then he apologized because the man was still his boss… kind of.
Gideon waved the apology aside. “Keenan, what the hell’s going on? You saved his life. You spend every free moment with him. I know you’re crazy about him. Why dump him now?”
Keenan stared down at the remains in his coffee mug. “Because we want different things.”
“Are you sure about that?” Gideon asked.
“I’m sure.”
“What do you want?”
Keenan looked up at Gideon. “I want a relationship.” He sounded defiant, but Gideon just nodded. Dan and Gideon’s relationship had had a rocky start, but now their love for each other was obvious for anyone to see. Gideon wasn’t going to judge Keenan for wanting the same thing.
“With Nate?”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t want that.”
Gideon frowned. “You’ve been going out with each other for what? Three, four months?”
“We’ve been hooking up,” Keenan corrected. “That’s what he calls it.”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “For sex?”
“Sometimes.” He thought about it. “Mainly just going out.”
“On dates.”
Hadn’t he just had this conversation with his sister? “He wouldn’t call it dating.”
“The man needs his head examined,” Gideon muttered.
Keenan wasn’t going to disagree with that. “I need more coffee. You?” He didn’t really need more coffee, but he did need a break from the conversation.
Gideon nodded thoughtfully. “Another cappuccino. Thanks.”
Keenan returned a few minutes later with a cup topped with foaming milk and chocolate and his own less-elaborate Americano, diluted with creamer and sweetener.
Not waiting for Keenan to speak, Gideon said, “Nate isn’t out at work, is he?”
“Not officially, but some know.” That had never been an issue with Keenan. His squad knew Nate was gay and they didn’t care or they were sensible enough to keep their mouths shut. “I’m not expecting Nate to wave a rainbow flag in his uniform in the Pride parade.”
Gideon took a sip of coffee and wiped the foam mustache away before he responded. “He knows you feel like that?”
“He should. His family knows, and his friends know. That’s enough. He’s got support from the people who count.”
“But not from you.”
Keenan stared at Gideon, stung by the accusation. “He has my support.”
Gideon curled his lip. “But not enough to stick by him?”
“I need more than to be someone’s booty call.”
“You love him, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
Keenan shrugged. “It’s a moot point now.”
“Maybe,” Gideon said cryptically.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Gideon ignored the question. “What are you going to do now?”
“Go back to work and stop thinking,” Keenan admitted honestly. He smiled reluctantly at Gideon’s bark of laughter.
“I’ll give you a ride back.”
“Do you think I did the right thing?” Keenan asked suddenly.
“With Nate?” Gideon pursed his lips. “It’s not up to me.”
“But I’m asking you.”
Gideon took his time and swirled the remaining liquid in his cup. Keenan’s nerves ratcheted up as he waited for Gideon’s answer.
“There’s no point being in a relationship that makes you unhappy.”
“Not a relationship,” Keenan pointed out again, because how many times did he have to say the same thing.
Gideon grunted.
“Are these chairs free?”
Keenan looked up to see a tired-looking man in his thirties carrying a toddler in one arm and precariously balancing a tray in the other.
Gideon stood up, and Keenan did the same, despite the fact that his coffee cup was still half-full.
“The table is all yours,” Gideon said.
“Thanks,” the man said, and he put the tray down with a sigh of relief.
Keenan followed Gideon out of the café and looked at his phone. He really needed to get back to Cowboys and Angels. “Is it still okay for you to give me a ride back to the bar?”
Gideon smiled at him. “Sure.”
As they rode down in the elevator, Keenan thought of something. “What were you doing with the teddy bear?”
Gideon smirked at him. “One of my managers just had a baby.”
“That’s kind of you to think about her.”
“It’s what I do.”
Keenan was starting to realize that. He had a feeling there was nothing Gideon didn’t know about.
KEENAN WIPED the sweat away from his brow as he brought in more delivery crates. Dan must have had a bug up his ass about something, because Keenan and the rest of the bar staff hadn’t stopped working since they arrived.
“What’s wrong with the boss?” one of the junior bartenders muttered to Eddie. He’d just spent an hour trying to sort out a problem with a delivery, and he was cold and grumpy.
“Who knows,” Eddie said. “If he’s in this mood, you just shut up and get on with it.” Eddie had known Dan for a long time, so Keenan figured he knew what he was talking about.
The heavy workload was just what Keenan needed to take his mind off Nate, or rather the lack of Nate in his life. Nate had been released from the hospital six days before, and Keenan had not heard anything from him. He’d been worried enough to ask Ramon, only to discover Nate had flown home to Wyoming to be with his parents during his sick leave.
Keenan kept telling himself it was logical that Nate should be with his family. There was no reason Nate would have contacted him now they’d split up.
“Day, watch what you’re doing,” Dan barked.
Keenan jumped, distracted from his thoughts, and realized he’d tilted the crate at such an angle the bottles were in danger of falling out.
“Sorry, Dan.” He straightened the crate and took it over to the refrigerator. Why did all the deliveries arrive at the same time?
Dan shook his head and stomped away. Keenan stared after him thoughtfully. This wasn’t like Dan. The guy was always professional, but he wasn’t usually chewing everyone’s hide. Something was bothering him. It wasn’t really his business, but…. Keenan finished what he was doing and went in search of Dan. He found him back in the cellar scowling at the neat rows of pipes.
“Dan?” Keenan said, tentatively.
His boss turned his scowl on him. “What?”
Keenan took a deep breath. “Are you okay? You don’t seem happy.”
Dan pressed his lips so thin, his mouth virtually disappeared. Keenan waited to have his head ripped off. Dan thumped a fist against the wall.
“Talk to me,” Keenan said, laying a hand on Dan’s shoulder. Dan twitched, but he didn’t pull away.
“It’s nothing,” Dan growled. Keenan waited, and finally Dan sighed. “I had an argument with Gideon this morning.”
“Was it a bad one?”
“Bad enough. We don’t fight that much.”
Keenan didn’t know whether to ask what the argument was about or just let Dan work through it in his head. Dan didn’t seem to want to talk, and Keenan had never been one to pry. Finally Dan raised his head and pasted a smile on his face.
“I’m fine. Just ignore me. I need to get over it.”
Recognizing it for the dismissal it was, Keenan nodded, squeezed Dan’s shoulder, and went back up the stairs to the bar. At the top, Eddie caught his eye and nodded him over.
“Boss okay?” he asked.
Keenan shrugged. “I don’t know. He doesn’t want to talk about it.”
Eddie hummed. “You know him well?”
“No. I’m getting to know him and mutual friends. Did I do the wrong thing?”
“He didn’t yell at you?”
&nb
sp; “No.”
“He didn’t make you clean the lines out?”
“No.”
“Then you didn’t do the wrong thing. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s good someone’s got his back.” Eddie patted Keenan on the shoulder. “You’ve got more crates to bring in.” He laughed as Keenan groaned and rolled his shoulders. “Nice try, kid. Get on with it.”
Dan didn’t let up the whole day, and by the time Keenan’s shift was over, he was exhausted. He fell into the car he ordered and closed his eyes. Thankfully he had off the following day, and Keenan intended to spend all of it in bed. The past few nights he’d spent staring at the ceiling as he thought about Nate. Now he was tired enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, Nate on the back burner.
HIS IDEA of staying in bed was wrecked by the ringtone of his cell phone. Keenan sat up, his heart thumping so hard it felt ready to pound out of his chest. He’d been in a dream of being kissed softly and tenderly, the man—let’s be honest, Nate—telling him how beautiful he was.
Keenan looked at the clock. Six o’clock in the morning. What the hell? He’d only been asleep for four hours. The phone wasn’t on the nightstand. He leaned over the side of the bed and scrabbled around in his clothes, but it stopped just as Keenan found it.
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he dropped the phone without checking the screen and curled up under the covers.
He barely had time to close his eyes before the phone started again.
“I’m going to kill you,” Keenan said as he picked up the phone. He pressed connect. “What?”
“You’re wrong,” Nate informed him.
Keenan dropped the phone and flailed until he picked it up and jammed it to his ear. “I’m what?”
“You’re wrong.” Nate sounded very insistent, in a slurred, middle-of-the-night kind of way.
Keenan had officially entered the Twilight Zone. He had a momentary flashback to the first night they met, under the lion wearing a jock. He blinked hard and forced himself to concentrate. “What am I wrong about?”
“You think we want different things. You’re wrong. We want the same things.”
“What time is it there? Are you drunk?”
“I dunno. Wait, four. Maybe. That’s not the point.”
“It’s four in the morning, and you’re drunk and calling me to tell me I’m wrong about something.”
“Exactly.” Nate sounded triumphant, as though they were finally on the same page.
Keenan stared up at the ceiling, hoping the small cracks in the corner might translate Nate’s words. “Nate, how about you get some sleep, buddy, and we have this conversation in the morning.”
“It is the morning.”
Well, Nate was right there, and it wasn’t his fault Keenan had only slept for four hours and was cranky as hell. He sat up, propped the pillows behind him, and settled in for the long haul. Then he sighed and tried again. “Okay. I’m awake now. Should you be drinking? Aren’t you still taking pain meds?”
Nate made a dismissive noise. “Quit changing the subject.”
“I’m not….” Keenan gave up. “Tell me why I’m wrong. Because from where I sit, you and I are at the opposite ends of the spectrum.”
“Uh, we’re on the same end of the spectrum. Gay, remember?”
It took Keenan too long to process that. “Not that spectrum. Look, Nate, I’m sure this all makes sense to you, but I’m not wrong. We want different things, and I don’t want to hook up anymore.”
“You said you want to hook up but not with me.”
“Yes.”
“But that’s not what you meant, is it?”
Keenan bit his lip. “No.”
Nate crowed loudly, and Keenan winced. He’d probably woken up the whole house with that noise. “See!”
It was like talking to Keenan’s niece. He needed a Nate-to-Keenan translator.
“What do I see?”
“You like me.”
What was this? Fifth grade?
“Yeah, I like you,” Keenan admitted.
“Then why’d you dump me?”
“Because I want more than a hookup. God, I hate that term. I want a relationship. I want to know the next time I see you I can call you my boyfriend.”
“Why?”
Why? Keenan’s fragile hold on his temper snapped. “Because I love you,” he yelled loudly.
“At fucking last.”
Keenan closed his eyes. “Nate, I’m sure in your liquor-addled brain this makes sense, but I’ve had four hours sleep and I just want to sleep.”
“You want to sleep with me.”
Keenan wanted to do a lot of things with Nate, but the thought of sleeping with him, wrapping around his solid body, was something he really wanted to do.
“What do you want, Nate? You’ve got your confession. I love you. Are you happy now? It doesn’t change anything.”
“What if I love you too?”
“Don’t joke.”
“I don’t joke, you know that.”
Keenan did. Even in the short time he’d known him, Keenan knew Nate wasn’t a cruel man—direct and blunt, but not cruel. “You mean it?”
“I mean it. I love you, Keenan Adam Day. I want to call you my boyfriend too.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Nate Gordon?”
“Heh.” Nate sounded content now. “Let’s just say Nate Gordon had a wake-up call.”
“That was me. You woke me up, remember?” Keenan relaxed against the pillows and wriggled down so he was more comfortable.
“You weren’t the only one.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your support team is really pissed off with me.”
“My support team?”
“Gideon and Dan, Cris and Bennett… oh, and Mikey because Ramon was busy. That guy never shuts up.”
Keenan sat up again. What the hell? “They all called you?”
“Yeah. Gideon reamed me out for not recognizing what I was giving up.” Nate sounded more amused than annoyed.
“I’m sorry.” He was gonna kill all of them. Slowly.
“Don’t be.” Keenan heard Nate moving around in his bed. “I guess I needed a wake-up call. You should hear what Roxy said when I tried to get sympathy from her.”
Keenan winced. “Did she give you a hard time?”
“She was all sympathy until I told her what I said to you—about having another hookup—and then she told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was a useless, no-good idiot who deserved nothing.”
“You did point out that it was me who dumped you.”
“Yep. They all said I deserved it.”
“Nate, whatever they said, don’t feel you have to be with me.”
“I know that.”
Keenan’s heart sank. “Then—”
“The ironic thing is, I was going to ask you out when I got shot.”
“You were?” Keenan clutched the phone tightly.
“I was. I’d just convinced myself I could trust someone again, but before I could tell you, I was interrupted by a bullet.”
Keenan shuddered. “Don’t joke.”
“Who’s joking?” Nate said, and he sounded deadly serious. “Keenan, when I get home, would you like to go on a date?”
“A date?” Keenan asked cautiously. “You said you didn’t do boyfriends.”
If a sigh could sound regretful, Nate managed it. “I know we haven’t talked much about past relationships—”
“Like, not at all.”
“Not at all,” Nate acknowledged. “I’m drunk, and I don’t want to talk about him now, but I will when I come home.”
Keenan stared at Eric the spider. “Okay.”
“Okay? So you’d like to go on a date with me?”
“Yes.”
“Chinese food?”
Keenan laughed at the hopeful note in Nate’s voice. “When are you coming home?”
“One more week. I can’t wait.”
>
“I thought you’d like all the pampering,” Keenan teased.
“You haven’t met my parents.”
“No pampering?”
“It’s like boot camp with horses. I’ve been shot and I’m still shoveling shit.”
Keenan shuddered at the thought. “You need to get home soon.”
“I do,” Nate agreed. “Will you meet me at the airport?”
“Doesn’t Roxy want to meet you?”
“I’m not telling her when I’m flying back.”
Chuckling, Keenan settled back down again. “I’ll meet you. Let me know when, and I’ll get the time off from the bar. I think they owe me for interfering.”
Nate yawned. “Sorry. I’m suddenly exhausted.”
“How much sleep have you had?”
“Not much,” Nate confessed. “I’ve had some thinking to do.”
Keenan smiled. “Go to sleep now. You’ve got to be in full health for our date.”
“Yes, sir.” Nate yawned again. “G’nite.”
“Sleep tight.”
Keenan disconnected the call and lay back. It took him a while to relax enough to sleep again. He was going to have a firm talk with Dan and his extended network of interfering friends. He finally fell asleep, working out what he was going to say.
KEENAN HATED JFK airport. He hated flying, and airports sent his anxiety levels through the roof. He had never been a good flyer, but since his accident, he’d avoided flying because he couldn’t handle the stress, opting to drive if he had to go long distances. He rarely took a vacation, so it wasn’t a problem. Keenan worried his bottom lip. He could foresee issues in future if he was invited to visit Nate’s family. It had taken every strength Keenan possessed to travel to JFK. But he’d promised his boyfriend—Keenan still had a mental squeal every time he thought about that word—he would meet him.
Nate had called him to say his flight had been delayed, but, worried about missing him, Keenan still arrived early. Fueled by too many cups of coffee, he paced the terminal, watching the little plane approach JFK on the flight scanner on his phone. The plane seemed to circle endlessly before he finally got the notification it had landed. What seemed like an eternity later, he watched Nate scan the crowd, his face lighting up as he spotted Keenan waiting for him. Just the look of him took Keenan’s breath away.