A Sweet Man

by Jaime Reese

  “You need to get some rest,” Julian said as he signed. “I’ll call Natalie—”

  Ben shook his head.

  “But you need to—”

  “I want to go to work,” he signed, wincing as pain jolted through his fingers and up his arm. “Please.”

  Julian glanced to the ceiling as if seeking some answer from the heavens while Matt placed a hand on his partner’s forearm.

  “You’ll go to work,” Matt said. “But I’m calling Natalie so she knows what happened.”

  With a sting in his eyes, Ben shook his head.

  Matt’s expression softened. “She’s going to know something happened the moment she sees your face and hands.”

  The headbutt had resurrected the black eye and added a small lump to his forehead. He looked down at the bandages. His knuckles were swollen and badly scraped under the gauze wraps. Neither of which would allow him to work with food. Besides, he needed his hands to communicate with Natalie, either by signing or texting. Both of which hurt too much now to even think about the pain that would likely flare up by tomorrow. He deflated, wanting to kick at the unfairness. A touch to his shoulder forced him to glance up.

  “I’m sure she can have you do something in the shop until your hands heal. Okay?”

  Ben nodded with a sigh. Natalie’s bakery had caused his old self to return. He craved the happiness and the excitement that had been elusive over the last few years. He didn’t want to abandon a single moment of being there if he could find a way.

  “You still have a few hours before you start. How about you try to take a nap on the couch?” Matt raised his hands before Ben had a chance to protest. “I’ll wake you in time for breakfast. Promise.”

  Resigned, Ben nodded. Between the lack of sleep of the last few days and the exhaustion working its way through his body, he could barely keep his eyes open. He rose from his seat and walked into the living room. He stood by the couch, his chest and throat tightening with a swarm of emotions. Every second replayed again in his mind. Every what-if scenario of how the night could have played out.

  Quickly turning, he threw his arms around Julian’s midsection and buried his head against Julian’s broad chest, refusing to let the welling tears in his eyes escape. He didn’t want to think of what would have happened had this man not been close enough to hear him and jump in before things got worse. He couldn’t let his mind go there and deep-dive into the abyss. If it did, coming back from that would be a battle he wasn’t sure he could win.

  Strong arms wrapped around him and the hard thump of the heartbeat pressed against him gave him the strength he needed to steady himself. Ben exhaled a heavy breath and pulled out of the embrace, determined to focus on anything but what had happened. He glanced up at Julian and gave him a weak smile of gratitude, then settled on the couch. He curled himself on the soft cushions and carefully pulled the throw over himself, smiling when both Julian and Calvin sat in the large side chairs at each side of the living room and planted their feet on the matching ottomans. Ben typed out two short words on his phone and turned the display toward his housemate to read.

  A half smile pulled at Calvin’s lips. “You’re welcome. Try to get some sleep.”

  Ben set his phone on the table and pulled the throw tightly under his chin. With a quick glance at Julian and another at Calvin, he knew a cloak of safety surrounded him as he finally let sleep pull him into the darkness.

  Bull shoved his shoulder against the door, holding it open as he rolled his suitcase inside. Finally, after a week of paperwork, interviews, and follow-up doctors’ visits, he was back in Miami. He threw his keycard and wallet on the table by the entrance as the door slid shut behind him. Sighing, he folded his garment bag over the kitchen counter and lumbered to the couch, dropping onto the soft leather. With his arms spread wide across the back of the sofa, he stretched his long legs out onto the center table, thankful to finally be home.

  Shifting in place, he winced when a jolt of pain traveled through his body. The knife slice to his side would heal, as would the cuts on his arm and various scrapes throughout. The pain would keep him company for a few weeks, but there was a comfort in knowing the job was done. He released a deep breath as he scanned the room, wondering why he had been in such a rush to return to this empty place. Everything was exactly how he had left it three months before.

  The vibration in his pocket forced a scowl. He pulled out his phone. “What’s up?”

  “You were supposed to call me when you got in, knucklehead,” Aidan said.

  Bull chuckled. It was a good thing he knew his best friend well enough to recognize his odd brand of affection. “I took an earlier flight. I figured you were still working, so I called a ride share.” The silence through the phone line was unsettling. Bull glanced around, the emptiness weighing on him.

  “Is the big and smiley Bull lonely?”

  “Jerk,” Bull said with a huff. Aidan 2.0 was a far better person now than the grumpy guy he had served with ages ago. But sometimes, Bull preferred the pre-Jessie side of Aidan who was blissfully ignorant to emotion. Aidan’s partner had somehow awakened that part of his friend’s brain that heightened Aidan’s awareness of those around him. Bull couldn’t hate on him…on either of them. He had gotten to know Jessie a few years back when tasked to play bodyguard. They had become fast friends. Thankfully, Aidan hadn’t become jealous of their friendship.

  “You should go visit your sister. It’s been a few months,” Aidan said.

  Bull glanced at his watch and quickly calculated the commute there and back. “I’ll swing by tonight.”

  “No. You should stop by her job. Tomorrow…after ten. She’ll be less tempted to kick your ass at the shop for not being around for the holidays.”

  Bull frowned. Even with Jessie’s influence, Aidan wasn’t super sensitive to others, and he sure as shit wouldn’t care about sparing Bull from an ass kicking. In fact, Aidan would likely want front row seats as he munched on popcorn and cheered. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Go visit her.”

  “I’ll call—”

  “So she can rip into you about how it would have been just as easy to have called her sometime in the last three months? Go by tomorrow. Consider it…a surprise.”

  “Oh-kay,” he said slowly, stretching out the small word.

  “And Julian’s doing his barbecue thing this weekend. You should come. You know you have an open invitation.”

  Bull narrowed his eyes and pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at the display to double-check he was actually talking to Aidan Calloway. He returned the phone to his ear. “You’re starting to freak me out.”

  “Shut up. Jessie’ll be there. He misses you.”

  Oh yeah. Something’s definitely up. “Uh-huh.”

  “Now get your ass off that couch and stop moping around feeling as if you’re the King of Lonely Hearts. It’s depressing.”

  “You’re such an ass.”

  “And you’re predictable as hell. And I’m sure the holidays all alone sucked. Tell me you’re not sitting on that old-ass couch feeling sorry for yourself?”

  Bull sighed.

  “Go see your sister tomorrow at work. It’ll…perk you up.”

  Bull scoffed. He and his sister were so much alike that they’d probably commiserate and trade stories over coffee about how hard she worked and how her dating life suffered because of it…after kicking his ass for not calling.

  “Bull,” Aidan said with a sigh. “You’re not a loner, never have been. Trust me. Go see her tomorrow. I’ve got to go. Jessie just got home.”

  The call disconnected. Bull groaned as a tingle of jealousy trickled into his system. He was happy for his friend and the relationship he had with Jessie, but he wouldn’t deny the evil green monster that reared its ugly head when he saw them together.

  He could narrow his relationship failures to two critical flaws: Honesty and trust. He enjoyed the globe-trotting freedom that came with his free
lance work, but none of his relationship partners had ever agreed it was a job perk. And his easygoing nature hadn’t helped. Texts, phone calls at random moments to check in on what—or who—he was doing grew more annoying. Maybe it was the need to rebel after his time in service. The thought of someone hovering over his every move, keeping tabs on him, questioning every action and carefully controlling every reaction…it all made him twitchy. He wanted trust. He needed honesty. Especially since he had never been the cheater in his relationships.

  He was monogamous. Period. Always had been and hated how others assumed the contrary.

  He rose from the couch and grabbed his suitcase, refusing to dwell on the ignorance of others. Tomorrow, he’d stop by and visit his sister. Tonight, he might as well start with some laundry.

  Ben held the clipboard as he counted off the items on the shelf, making a note of the inventory that needed to be replenished with the next order. Even though he hadn’t been able to help with baking last week, he loved his time at the shop and was thankful Natalie had found tasks for him to do until he healed.

  He had met with the counselor Matt called to the house after what had happened. Although nearly back to his usual self, he wasn’t one hundred percent good to go yet, but he wouldn’t deny having the strong support system around him, and David out of the house, made a world of difference. Natalie promised they would resume baking lessons Monday morning if his hands had healed. After four days, even he was surprised at the speed of his recovery.

  After checking off another line item, Ben shut the door of the storage closet and moved to the next set of cabinets.

  Movement to his left caught his attention.

  A broad-shouldered man with shaggy hair entered the bakery. He towered a few inches over six feet, but it was his build that stole Ben’s attention. He must have been around two hundred and forty pounds of muscle. Muscles that seemed to be shaped and carved from intense physical work rather than gym vanity. Every thread of his black T-shirt stretched across his wide chest. His biceps were thick, defined, and powerful, yet soft and natural.

  Ben took a slow steadying breath, gripping the clipboard tightly in his hand as the man approached Natalie with a prowl-like gait, owning his size and weight with authority.

  He could text Aidan in a heartbeat. He should text Aidan.

  The man’s face and arms had a series of scratches and narrow strips of tape that looked like they were holding together some of the deeper cuts. It should have been alarming. Flags should have been waving and warning lights flashing.

  But they weren’t.

  It was something…else. And whatever the heck it was, it tingled every centimeter of Ben’s body. He instinctively reached for his phone when Natalie’s eyes narrowed. But the hint of smile peeking through her expression forced Ben to shove his phone back into his pocket.

  The man leaned over the counter and pressed a kiss to Natalie’s cheek.

  Ben sighed, bothered for some reason he couldn’t understand. He should be thankful the man wasn’t a threat to Natalie, the store, or him. He should go back to work and stop staring. It was a terrible habit he had broken while inside. But if he looked away, he would miss a detail. Miss the way the scruff of a few days’ growth couldn’t hide the defined squareness of the man’s jaw. Or the single dimple on his cheek or how his lips were full and wide. Full enough that they didn’t thin when he smiled broadly at Natalie.

  The man took her hand as she rolled her eyes. He raised her hand to his lips and then pressed a kiss to her skin like some storybook prince trying to charm his princess.

  Ben inhaled sharply and straightened, fighting back the sudden heat rising in his chest. Flinching, he looked down at himself, surprised how his body responded to the man. Turns out his back wasn’t the only thing that had stiffened at witnessing the slight show of affection. Sprouting a boner at his job wouldn’t make a good impression. Especially if said boner was because of the man fawning over his boss.

  His shoulders slumped. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to stare.

  A vivid imagination had been the key to his survival, his source of sanity for most of his life. He watched people—occasionally to the point of their discomfort—and observed their behavior, tells, tiny gestures, and details most people often missed. With each observation, he took away a tiny piece to remember. Then, he would lose himself in the fantasy, assembling the memory pieces into a montage of perfection.

  The perfect family who would be at his side, welcoming him with open arms.

  The perfect group of friends who would include him in their circle and never betray him.

  The perfect guy who would try to understand him, accept him, and love him.

  A wistful exhale escaped. What would it be like if he were in Natalie’s place in that moment? What would it be like to have those full, wide lips pressing against his hand?

  Or his neck. His mouth.

  He…shouldn’t look. Staring isn’t polite. But he couldn’t…not look. He needed another piece for tonight’s memory puzzle. The rarity of that man and the reaction he triggered compelled Ben to steal another glance…to stare and memorize every centimeter of his body, the way he carried himself, the way his lips fluidly moved between a smile and words.

  A rope cinched Ben’s heart and tugged, forcing him to take another deep breath. If he was going to fantasize about this man later, he needed more details.

  He straightened and raised his head. Swallowing heavily, he glanced over to the doting duo and stilled.

  His eyes rounded.

  The breath froze in his throat as a pair of dark eyes stared back at him.

  = ♥ =

  Movement out of the corner of his eye stole Bull’s attention. He hadn’t expected to see the young man standing there in his sister’s workspace. While his trust issues could fuel a major city, his sister’s could power an entire nation. Trusting someone to work in her space was a first.

  That instantly piqued his interest.

  Bull stared back at those huge, round light eyes, cursing the distance between them that made it difficult to determine the exact shade—green, maybe hazel. The young man stood almost paralyzed in the one spot as he stared back at him. If Bull had to estimate, he figured the man was in his mid-twenties. He stood about five foot, nine inches, and the business-casual black trousers and simple polo shirt accented his lean-muscled body, trim waist, and broad shoulders. The defined muscles in his biceps and forearms flexed as he tightened his hold on the clipboard. His straight black hair was short in the back and longer at the top, just enough length to graze the edge of his eyebrow with the sideswept style. His light olive-toned skin hid a bruised eye well but made his light-colored eyes pop even more.

  With his heart boldly thumping in his chest, Bull’s gaze skated along every dip and curve, wondering why the man’s hands were bandaged. His jaw clenched as his imagination shifted into overdrive, wondering what would have triggered the fight. Or worse…had someone attacked him? His body stiffened and every muscle tensed at the thought. Those light eyes staring back at him widened. The man took a step back, then another until he fully retreated and vanished from Bull’s line of sight.

  As if pulled by a string, Bull released his sister’s hand and turned toward the doorway of the back room where the young man had stood only moments before.

  A strong hand gripped his forearm, breaking the spell. “No, Gabe. Don’t you dare.”

  “Bullette—”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “Because your friends make fun of your last name—”

  “Our last name. My apologies, Miss del Toro,” he said, emphasizing the surname that had sparked the beginnings of his nickname. “Tell me who he is.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  Bull held back a grin. That was his sister’s go-to answer when she didn’t have a viable argument. “Try again.”

  “Because… I said so.”

  He bit his lip. S
he was just as protective as he was at times. Her lack of reason but heightened need to guard the young man led him to one conclusion: she cared about him. And if the guy had managed to break through his sister’s iron shell and draw her in enough to care, then he was definitely a man Bull wanted to meet.

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want him to be?”

  Natalie scowled at him.

  “Unless you give me a good enough reason, I’m walking over there and introducing myself.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “He’s younger than you.”

  “Age is a state of mind.”

  “He’s a great employee.”

  “I don’t plan on hiring him.”

  “He’s…” Natalie glanced over her shoulder toward the back room. She returned her attention to Bull and cocked her head.

  She was quiet…too quiet. Bull refused to budge but he recognized that look in Nat’s eyes. She was holding something back.

  “He’s…likely a little skittish at the moment. And it won’t help that you’re all bruised and battered.”

  Bull’s stance relaxed. “I noticed a fading shiner on him and the bandages on his hands. What happened?”

  “Not my place to say.” Nat chewed her lip as she shook her head, then shrugged. That was out of character. She was rock solid and rarely hesitated about anything. Her chest heaved with a deep sigh, finally surrendering. “Fine. You want to pursue him? Go ahead. All I’m going to say is…don’t go in there charging like a damn bull. Be you.” She leaned forward on the counter and nailed him with a hard stare. “Forget your smooth-talking flirtation, and don’t be that guy with him. Pay attention. Be real. Be Gabe not Bull.”

  Her expression was dead serious. In some twisted, sisterly way, she was encouraging him and giving him her blessing. Conditional, but a blessing nonetheless.