A Sweet Man

by Jaime Reese

  Besides… He wanted the ocean view.

  He sighed, trying to refocus on the present conversation with Anthony. “What time does she get in?”

  “Seven tonight.”

  “Who else knows she’s flying in?”

  “The Milan security detail, pilot, and home office staff. She said you’d be proud to know she didn’t post a billboard with details.”

  Bull chuckled. Rachel may be fierce in the boardroom, but to her very tiny circle of friends and trusted employees—mainly those who had supported her while she worked her way back from her grief-stricken state years ago—she was fiercely loyal and considerate. Regardless of the role she played in the eyes of her business associates, she remained grounded with her closest staff members. “Send me the info.”

  Reluctantly, he walked away from the window. He had a short list of errands to run before heading out to the airport for a full security sweep.

  After a long shower and a shave, he walked out to his room, a towel wrapped around his hips and another in his hand scrubbing at his hair. He really needed a damn trim. Hair products made his scalp itch, and he was having a hard time keeping the mess of thick hair under control.

  He stood by the nightstand and grabbed his phone, debating if he should initiate a text. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Ben had piqued his curiosity at first sight, but after spending the last three weeks with him at the shop and during their evening video chats, he was officially under his spell. Ben was kind, caring, and appreciated others. And the thought of hurting someone’s feelings genuinely wreaked havoc on his sanity.

  While on a job and with his mind squarely focused on his client, Bull barely made contact with anyone outside of the immediate bubble to avoid distractions. But there was no way he would switch into work mode without reaching out to Ben beforehand.

  He launched a message window and typed out a quick text. I’ve got a job that just came up and starts tonight. It’ll last for a couple of days. I usually go silent while I work.

  He set his phone down and walked over to his closet to fetch his overnight and garment bags. Two suits and two changes of business casual just in case Rachel wanted to have him blend in a bit more. He glanced over his shoulder as a message pinged. With a silly grin on his face, he trotted over and laid out the clothes on his bed. He reached for his phone, his eyebrows twitching as he read the text.

  Thanks for telling me. Be safe.

  He stared at the message, his pulse hiking up. No interrogation, no pushing to ask what he would be doing and who with. Just a simple acceptance of his comment and a well-wish. Even the well-wish and concern for his safety were different.

  He texted a quick will do to Ben, refusing to read too much into his racing heartbeat. After sending a short message to Natalie letting her know he would be AWOL for a while, he made a list of tasks he needed to check off before deep diving into work for the next few days.

  As he jotted down items on his notepad app, he absently kept switching back to Ben’s reply. Those two words spun in his head. Two…simple…words. Be safe. Other than his mother—who had worried about everything—and his sister’s occasional don’t get killed message, he hadn’t had someone give a shit about his well-being.

  Even though he tried, he couldn’t will his heart to ignore it.

  Two simple words, likely given without a second thought.

  They might have meant nothing to Ben.

  For Bull, they meant everything.

  = ♥ =

  A tap to Ben’s shoulder caught his attention.

  “I’ve got to pick up some stuff. Want to join me?” Julian signed.

  Ben quickly nodded. He had read through the baking book Natalie had given him for that weekend and was now bored out of his mind trying to find something to do to stay busy. Anything to keep his mind off Gabriel. While Gabriel could obviously take care of himself, Ben couldn’t help the flicker of worry that sparked inside. Just the thought of him getting hurt was tough to stomach. He debated what to respond and had deleted several phrases. Be safe had been the safest bet to convey his concern without going off the deep end. He hadn’t wanted to go overboard, worrying the way Julian and Shaw always seemed to worry about him.

  “C’mon,” Julian said, tilting his head to the side so he would follow.

  Ben climbed into Julian’s truck, not really caring where they went. As long as he didn’t have to watch another holiday romance or Valentine’s Day commercial, he was all set. Anything requiring a drive, especially a long one, was always a welcome reprieve. He clipped his seat belt and sat back, enjoying the slow drive as Julian made his way through Sunday traffic. Looking out the passenger side window, he enjoyed the cool air blowing inside the cabin as the sun shone bright through the tinted window.

  A short while later, they turned into the large parking lot of the home improvement store and drove up and down a few rows until Julian found a spot wide enough for his truck. Ben wistfully smiled at the family parked a row over, watching the man protectively corral their kids in a small circle as the woman tucked the youngest into the shopping cart’s top seat.

  “Stay close,” Julian said as they grabbed one of the flatbed carts.

  He walked alongside Julian as they strolled through the aisles, staring up at the stacks of boxes while Julian loaded supplies onto the flatbed and checked off items from his list. Even the home improvement store capitalized on the holiday, hanging heart-shaped balloons at the end of the aisles to accent their displays. Couples pointed at the floor tile options and an older man and woman raised every lid of the washing machines on display. Families and couples surrounded him. Likely searching for things for their home.

  An ache poked at his chest. The couples, the big red balloons, and the stolen smooches. He had to turn away and walk in the other direction.

  He blew out a deep breath, the eagerness to leave the house suddenly weighing more on him than he had anticipated. A home. A family. He wanted that special connection with someone. Like the unspoken words exchanged between Matt and Julian, or Shaw and Drayton. Even Aidan seemed to have that telepathic skill when it came to his partner, Jessie. Deep down, Ben suspected it was a bond that couldn’t be broken by life’s stumbling blocks.

  Maybe it was something not meant for him. He swallowed heavily, fighting back a wave of emotion. No, he refused to believe that. He instinctively saw the positive in others, and he was determined to find the positive in himself as well.

  He jerked to the side when something slammed against him. Quickly turning, he spotted the tall man.

  “I’m so sorry,” the man said. The guy seemed to repeat the same phrase, making it easy to decipher his words. Ben rubbed his arm, then shook his head, waving off the man’s concern.

  The man extended his hand. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  Common courtesy drove Ben to shake hands in return.

  Warning flags instantly waved in his mind with the contact. He tried pulling away, but the man’s grip tightened.

  Ben glanced to each side, willing Julian to appear. He returned his attention to the man and yanked his hand with force. Finally breaking free of the contact, he took a step back, adding space between them.

  At the end of the aisle, he spotted Julian looking side to side until their gazes locked. Without hesitation, Julian abandoned the flatbed and was at his side in a few steps, his body language on guard and ready to attack.

  The man instantly stepped back and raised his hands in surrender. “I was distracted and accidentally ran into him and was apologizing. I’m sorry.”

  Ben’s gaze swiveled back and forth between them, trying to follow the conversation.

  “You’ve apologized. We’re done here,” Julian said, his gaze fierce and unwavering as he stood alongside Ben like a guardian.

  The man returned his attention to Ben and half smiled. “It was nice meeting you.” With a slight tilt of his head toward Julian, the man turned away and walked down the aisle until he disappeared i
nto the crowd.

  The hand on Ben’s shoulder made him jump and drew his attention.

  “What happened?”

  Ben signed his response, confirming exactly what the man had said had happened.

  “So why did you look freaked out?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Something didn’t feel right. I had to get away,” he signed in response, almost embarrassed by his admission.

  Julian nodded. “Good.”

  What’s good about that? Ben thought with a scowl.

  “You trusted your instincts. Something felt off and you were looking for a way out rather than trying to be the nice guy. That’s important.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. Leave it to Julian to find a life lesson in the plumbing aisle.

  Julian shook his head and half smiled. “C’mon.” He slung his arm around Ben’s shoulder and led him down the aisle to the flatbed cart with his items.

  = ♥ =

  Bull glanced at his watch as the plane slowed on the tarmac. Rachel could command missions with her insistence of precision and schedule. He smiled as the jet door opened and a pair of red high heels appeared in the threshold, tapping until the bottom of the door touched the ground.

  He waited in his at ease position.

  Rachel Davenport was a carefully crafted facade decorated in bold-colored suits and polished red nails. At thirty-two, she enjoyed playing the role as she led the growing hotel empire she had been bequeathed. Especially if it meant giving the stuffy board members the proverbial finger and proving she was far more competent than the trophy wife who had married a business tycoon twice her age. It had taken her six months to pull herself out of her deep grief-stricken state after her husband’s unexpected death nearly six years ago, but she had finally accepted her role as the head of the company. And nothing had ever been the same again at Davenport Holdings.

  She smiled the moment she spotted him waiting. Rachel looked stylish—as usual when she was in full character—wearing a sleeveless, off-the-shoulder black fitted dress with large black sunglasses, likely both from some fancy designer she followed. She looked bored as she brushed back her long blond hair. He held out his hand which she quickly took as she stepped onto the tarmac.

  She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Sweetie, you need a haircut.”

  “Nice to see you too.”

  “You’re lucky that dimple is powerless against me.” She smiled when he shook his head, then hooked her arm in his as they walked toward the terminal.

  “Why does that make me lucky?”

  “Because you will always have a friend in me who is honest and trustworthy, rather than swayed by your boyish charm. It’s why I’m telling you…you need a cut.”

  “Glad to see I still have boyish charm at my age.” He gave her a side-eyed glance.

  She playfully smacked his bicep. “We’ve got a light schedule. I have a few business meetings early in the week but today is personal.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re going shopping with me.”

  He held back a groan. Shopping with Rachel was at the top of his list of Slow & Painful Torture Techniques.

  “And I need to go to the hairdresser. Serg is in town and he’s expecting me.”

  Correction. Serg topped that list. The man didn’t understand the meaning of the word no.

  “And you’re getting a cut while we’re there.”

  There wasn’t much that would sway Rachel when she set her mind to something, but it didn’t hurt to try. “I’m working.”

  She waved off his concern and stopped walking, turning to face him. “He’ll lock down the salon for us so no one has access and you can relax.” She watched him carefully, for what, he had no clue. “Is there any chance…”

  “Rachel—”

  She raised her hand. “I’m sorry. I know I need to stop pushing you on this.”

  He slowly raised an eyebrow. Over the years, she had attempted several love connections for him. Never pushing or going as far as planning a blind date, but her efforts to coordinate well-timed meetings had been obvious. All had failed with little grace and tons of apologies. But the love connection attempt with Serg had been her greatest failure.

  He still remembered that day, with far more clarity than he cared to recall. Had she notified Serg of her surprise visit to town with Bull at her side and her intentions in mind, they likely wouldn’t have caught him smack in the middle of a threesome at the back of the salon with two people whose names Serg couldn’t even remember.

  “He’s a horndog, but I like him,” she said, her full red lips pouting.

  “I know you do.”

  “And I like you.”

  “I know you do.” He held out the crook of his arm, which she accepted again. “But it’s never going to happen,” he said as they resumed their walk toward the terminal.

  She dramatically sighed. “I know. He’s lucky he’s so damn great with hair.”

  “Don’t tell him that.”

  She threw her head back and laughed—a simple act that had taken her years to accomplish after her husband’s passing. “Trust me. He knows he’s the best.” They walked out to Bull’s SUV, chatting and catching up. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in town,” she said, her stride slower than her usual speed-walk pace.

  “Five months.”

  “You do know I don’t need a bodyguard?”

  He thought it best to remain silent.

  “I doubt anyone would put a bullet in my head because I run a company.”

  He stopped and turned to face her, the lightness of their exchange evaporating. “You could be held at gunpoint and forced to do something against your will.”

  “I do love it when you worry about me.” She patted his shoulder. “But I’m never alone except for when I fly internationally. And I travel by private jet and always carry the gun you taught me how to shoot. By the way…”

  He raised an eyebrow at her silence.

  “I missed you too.”

  He didn’t respond. Rachel always pushed through whatever bothered her and played her part, until she could shed her facade in private, away from prying and judgmental eyes. But something was…off. “Something’s weighing on you.”

  Her eyes darted up to meet his questioning gaze. “I’m incredibly grateful no one can read me the way you can.”

  He scoffed. “Or Steven in accounting would know the reason you ride his ass so hard is because he keeps rearranging the office kitchen.”

  “Who does that!” Rachel pulled her sunglasses off and planted her hands on her hips. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. How the hell would you even know that? You aren’t at the office.”

  She didn’t need to say it, but Bull knew these moments were the reason she missed him most. Unguarded times when she could revert to the woman she used to be before carrying the weight of the well-being of her employees on her shoulders.

  “You video called me the other morning and I noticed the stink-face when he entered the room. I asked Anthony if the guy did anything to break up your routine and he mentioned the kitchen. Besides, your staff loves office gossip, especially if it involves the boss. It was easy getting the intel.”

  She shook her head and laughed. Hooking her arm back with his, she pulled him along and resumed their walk, filling him in on the office gossip relating to the board. He kept one ear attentive to their conversation while he remained focused on their surroundings.

  Less than an hour later, they arrived at the salon and were greeted by Serg.

  “Bull?” he said, flattening a hand to his chest. “I wasn’t expecting you to join us.”

  Rachel stilled. “Please tell me it’s just us here.”

  With a wince, Serg ducked his head and quickly shut the door behind them with a nod.

  After checking every door and window in the salon, Bull took a seat at one of the stations, ignoring the casual glances Serg threw his way. Not gonna happen, buddy.

  Random hookups had
never been his thing. His ex-partners—even his own father—assumed his bisexuality equated to promiscuity. He was tired of fighting that misconception.

  Bull had front row seats to relationships filled with trust, loyalty, and respect. He had been raised by parents who loved each other immensely. Visited a grandfather who had loved his wife deeply for over sixty years. Bull wanted that…ached for that same connection with someone. But he hadn’t found the right person to share that dream with.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  As usual, there was an undercurrent to Serg’s question. A suggestion. An offering. He stared at Serg, his firm square jaw and those piercing blue eyes. His dark hair was bleached to appear as if he were a natural platinum blond, the way only a hairstylist with his skill could pull off. His hair was a stark contrast to his perfectly shaped thick dark eyebrows, yet they worked well on him. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “Rachel tells me you’re getting a haircut today.”

  He glanced over at Rachel and narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Do you trust me?”

  Bull met Serg’s gaze again. He sure as hell wouldn’t trust the man in a relationship, but he couldn’t deny Serg had mad skills at his job and could likely make even the little bits of hair on a Chinese Crested Chihuahua look sexy.

  “To cut my hair,” Bull clarified with a nod, emphasizing each word, not missing the flash of disappointment in Serg’s eyes.

  Serg gripped the armrests of Bull’s chair and leaned forward, his pose dominant and the twitch in his grip flexing the lean muscles of his forearms. The guy was definitely persistent. “You’re my biggest regret,” he whispered. “The what-ifs kill me.”