Secretly Dating the Lionman

by Sue Brown

  “Do you want to go back?”

  “Hold on.” Cris’s attention was distracted by a customer. Then it got busy again, and Cris didn’t have time to resume the conversation until nearly an hour later, by which time Gideon had vanished upstairs.

  Someone else appeared, though, and Cris was even more pleased to see him.

  “Hello, stranger. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me,” he said as Bennett leaned on the bar. He wanted to lean over and give him a kiss, but he knew this wasn’t the time or the place. “Do you want a drink?”

  Bennett grinned at him. “Yes, but no.”

  “Which is it?” Cris asked.

  “I’ve got to go home and work for a couple of hours. If I start drinking now, I might not stop. Give me a soda instead?”

  Cris nodded and poured a Coca-Cola into a tall glass. Bennett smiled at him and handed him a five-dollar bill.

  When Cris gave him his change, Bennett said, “I’m sorry. My meeting went on for longer than I expected. We’ve got a project downtown, and it’s over budget and overdue. The client’s not happy, and Tata’s furious. He needed someone to shout at.”

  “Is it your project?”

  “No.”

  Cris frowned as he processed that. “So why is he shouting at you?”

  “Because then, by the time he gets to shout at the people causing the trouble, he’s all calm and razor sharp. I’m used to it.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair.”

  Bennett shrugged. “It’s family.”

  “I guess so,” Cris said doubtfully.

  “It’s our family,” Bennett amended. “Tata needs someone to off-load to. I’m that person.”

  “Who do you shout at?”

  “I used to shout at Mikey, and he’d shout at me, but he’s not really coping at the moment.”

  That was the understatement of the year, and it left Bennett handling not only his brother’s meltdown but his father’s anger too, with no one to listen to him.

  “You can off-load at me. I don’t mind.” Cris’s offer was impulsive, but it was genuine, and worth it, judging by Bennett’s smile.

  “Thanks. I mean it, thank you. I can’t remember the last time I had someone watching my back.”

  Cris frowned again and opened his mouth to speak, but Dan came over.

  “Hi, Bennett. You can take your break, Cris.”

  “Are you sure?” It was still busy in the bar, and Cris didn’t want to leave them short.

  “Yeah. You haven’t stopped all day. Be back here in an hour.”

  “Let’s go for a walk,” Bennett suggested.

  “Where?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Okay.” Cris went into the back to grab his jacket, and by the time he returned, Bennett had drained his soda.

  The cool air was cold and bracing after the heat of the bar, but it was welcome. They fell into pace side-by-side, and Cris told Bennett his revelation the previous night after being stuck between two exceptionally tall people on the train.

  Bennett let out a rumble of laughter. “You should hear my sister complain about being short. When we used to ride the train together, she always complained about how many men don’t use deodorant.”

  Cris wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

  “It is for her,” Bennett agreed.

  “At least I got to watch a soccer game.”

  Bennett tilted his head as he looked at Cris. “You’re a silver-linings kind of guy.”

  “I try to be.”

  “I like that,” Bennett murmured. “I’m not. Sometimes I see the dark side too much.”

  “Do you suffer from depression?”

  “I have in the past. Not as badly as my brother and sister. Does that bother you?”

  Cris shook his head. “No, but it’s good to know. My mom has depression. But she’s finally on medication that seems to work.”

  Bennett pointed to a pizza place. “I’m hungry. You okay if I grab a slice?”

  Cris’s stomach rumbled, and he suddenly realized he hadn’t eaten anything all day. No wonder he felt hungry. “Sure. I’ll have one too.” They each ordered a slice and ate it as they continued their walk. Cris groaned in satisfaction as the food hit his empty stomach. “I should have ordered two.”

  “We can get another one before we go back,” Bennett said.

  “I think I’m gonna have to. This is the only thing I’ve eaten today.”

  “You can’t work on an empty stomach,” Bennett scolded. “You’re definitely getting another slice. What time do you finish today? We could go for dinner.”

  “I finish at eight. Make it a delivery at my place or bring takeout and you’re on,” Cris said.

  Bennett’s lips twitched. “Tired?”

  “Exhausted. Bartending is hard work.”

  “Harder than pole dancing?”

  “I’m on my feet all day,” Cris complained, “and Ariel is a slave driver.”

  “I’ll come over and massage your feet. Are you working tomorrow?”

  Cris furrowed his brow, remembering the quick conversation he’d had with Dan about shifts. “I’m free tomorrow. Then working evenings Monday to Thursday.”

  “Good. We can sleep in tomorrow.”

  The purr in Bennett’s voice made Cris look at him very closely. “You want to stay the night?”

  Bennett threw the trash from the slice into a nearby receptacle and then shoved his hands into his pockets. “Only if you want me to.”

  “I want you to,” Cris said, “although you might have to poke me awake to do anything.”

  Bennett’s lips curved into a smile. “I don’t think poking you will be an issue.”

  They grinned at each other and then laughed as Cris’s stomach rumbled again.

  “Another slice?” Cris suggested.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  As they munched the second helping, Cris said, “I’m gonna have to learn to eat in the morning on weekends. I’m gonna have to learn to be awake. I haven’t seen a Saturday morning in years.”

  “Do you think you’ll be bartending long?”

  “I hope not.”

  “You don’t like it?” Bennett asked.

  “I can’t afford to do it. I have to pay rent on the apartment and the studio.”

  “I’d forgotten the studio.”

  “It’ll be impossible to find somewhere as good as that for the same price.”

  Cris turned to Bennett and noticed sauce on his chin, so he leaned over and wiped it away with his thumb. Bennett stiffened, and Cris sighed, but Bennett caught his wrist as he took it away.

  “I’m trying,” he said.

  Cris stuck his thumb in his mouth and licked away the sauce. “I know you are. Just keep reminding me of that.”

  Bennett nodded, and they circled around back toward Cowboys and Angels. Cris knew Bennett was stepping way out of his comfort zone even walking with Cris, but he had to be patient and give him time.

  Chapter 10

  CRIS STARTED, abruptly woken by the thumping on the door. Sleep-dazed, he looked around and realized he’d fallen asleep on his sofa. In front of him on the table was his untouched plate of ramen—a poor excuse for dinner, but it was all he could be bothered to make. He must have fallen asleep as soon as he sat down.

  It wasn’t the evening Cris had anticipated. Bennett had texted and apologized for canceling at short notice because he’d been called back into work to deal with a crisis. Cris wondered if it was an excuse, but Bennett sounded sincere, and he’d promised to rearrange the next day.

  The other text was from Marlon, furious that he hadn’t returned to Forbidden Nightz. Cris’s response had been short and to the point.

  You fired me. I’ve got another job.

  He ignored the stream of texts that followed. It wasn’t worth the stress. His time at Forbidden Nightz was over.

  The thumping started again before he’d had a chance to get to his feet. Cris frowned as he headed toward his doo
r, not sure who was visiting him at eleven at night. It didn’t sound like Bennett’s knock. He grinned when he realized he knew Bennett had a particular knock.

  The smile faded when he discovered who was at his door. It wasn’t Bennett. Cris’s heart sank as he encountered the scowling face of the other Petrovski brother, and he had to take a hasty step back to avoid being punched in the face as Mikey raised his fist to thump the door again.

  “Hey, careful,” he snapped.

  Without a greeting Mikey pushed past him and into his living room and turned on his heel to face Cris.

  “What the hell are you doing with Benny?”

  Cris pressed his lips together. “It’s none of your business.”

  “He’s my brother. That makes it my business.”

  Mikey lurched forward, and Cris was prepared to shove him back, but Mikey managed to recover his balance. The waft of beer made Cris wrinkle his nose. Mikey was liquored up. Dutch courage perhaps?

  “Benny’s my brother,” Mikey repeated and rolled on his heels.

  Cris sighed and pointed to the sofa. “Sit down before you break something. I’ll make us coffee.”

  “I don’t need coffee.” Mikey’s tone was petulant.

  “Yeah, you do. Sit.”

  Cris waited until Mikey had slumped into the sofa. Then he went into the kitchen and swiped his phone from the coffee table en route. He filled the machine with ground coffee and water and texted Bennett as it heated.

  Mikey’s here. Defending your honor.

  The response was almost immediate. Do you want me to come over?

  Cris smiled. His hero. I’ll call if I need rescuing.

  OK. Still at work, but I can come if you need me.

  Thanks.

  There was no reply to that, so Cris put his phone on the counter and went back to where Mikey drooped sullenly on one corner of the sofa. “Creamer, sugar?”

  “Yeah.”

  Cris rolled his eyes and went back to the coffee. He fixed it like he had for Bennett, returned with the two mugs, and handed one to Mikey. “How do you know where I live?”

  “It was in Benny’s contacts.”

  “So you decided to visit me to warn me off your brother?”

  Mikey huffed. “He needs someone to look after him.”

  Yeah, and that’s me. Cris seemed to be the only one who didn’t expect Bennett to take care of them.

  “Why are you really here?” Cris asked gently.

  Mikey looked up, and the hurt in his expression was plain to see. “Why him? Why not me?”

  And there it was—the root of the matter. Cris scrubbed his hand through his hair as he thought about the words he wanted to say. “You’re a good man, Mikey.”

  Mikey twisted his lips. “But?”

  “I prefer older guys.” More experience, no girlfriend.

  “Is that it?” Mikey was no fool, and he wasn’t going to let it go.

  Cris let out a long sigh. “You’re engaged to a woman. Even if I were interested in you, I wouldn’t get involved.”

  Mikey seemed to curl in on himself. “I love Julianne. We’ve been together since high school.”

  “If you love her so much, why are you chasing after me, Mikey?” Cris asked, as gently as he could manage.

  “I… I’m just looking for a fuck.”

  “If that’s what you really want, why are you here?” Cris knew too many guys who had married women, had the family and the white picket fence, and went hunting for guys to get laid. He wasn’t that guy, and he didn’t think Mikey was. “You’re falling apart, man.”

  “I’m not falling apart.”

  “Yeah, you are.”

  Mikey had that betrayed look again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Mikey, you can talk to me.”

  “Everyone wants me to talk,” Mikey said bitterly. “No one wants to listen.”

  Cris wanted to lean over and slap him upside the head, because what the hell did Mikey think Bennett had been doing all this time? But he bit back the harsh words and instead gently said, “I’ll listen.”

  For a moment he thought his words had worked. He could see the need in Mikey’s eyes, but then Mikey snorted and put down his mug.

  “You just want to get into my brother’s pants.”

  “And if I do?” Cris challenged.

  “You think Benny is less screwed up than me?”

  No, Cris didn’t think that, but he wasn’t going to betray Bennett’s trust. He just kept a steady gaze on Mikey.

  Mikey placed his mug on the table and stood. “Benny isn’t gonna come out any more than I am. He’s just convincing himself he can pretend to them.” Them being their parents, Cris assumed. He nodded and followed Mikey to the door, and Mikey turned to look at him. “Don’t screw up, Lionman. He doesn’t deserve it.”

  “I know.”

  Mikey sighed again. “I think you do. If he was going to find anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

  “Thanks, Mikey,” Cris said.

  For a long moment, Mikey stayed where he was, his gaze rooted to the ground. When he raised his head, there was a maturity and resigned acceptance Cris hadn’t seen before. “Thanks for being honest. I needed to hear it, even if it was hard to accept.” He walked away without waiting for Cris’s response.

  Cris shut the door behind him, leaned against it, and let out an explosive breath. Damn, he was in way over his head. He needed someone to talk to—not Bennett, obviously. Dan, or Gideon at a pinch, would have to be that person whether he liked it or not.

  Exhaustion caught up with him, and Cris yawned. His eyes closed, and he was about ready to sink to the floor and fall asleep, but the sound of a text made him open his eyes. He shuffled wearily to the kitchen counter, picked up the phone, and looked at the screen.

  Do you need me?

  Cris took a moment to tap out his response, his fingers fumbling over the keys. All okay. He’s gone.

  Okay. Night.

  Cris wondered if there was a sense of disappointment in the terse reply. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Bennett there, but just right then he needed sleep. He’d be better company in the morning. He dumped the cold ramen in the trashcan, placed the bowl in the sink, and headed into his bathroom. He could go to bed hungry for one night. Sleep was more important. He cleaned his teeth, shuffled into his bedroom, and crawled under the covers with a moan of relief. He was almost asleep when the next text arrived. Irritated, Cris cranked open one eye and looked at the screen.

  Sleep well.

  He managed a You too, and then he was thankfully, blissfully asleep. If there were any other texts, Cris was oblivious to their arrival.

  CRIS’S HEAD was filled with plans for his painting of Bennett. He knew exactly which building he’d use as the backdrop for the painting—a partially constructed building downtown, it was little more than a shell at the moment. Cris had spent a long time scoping out the building as it progressed, hoping inspiration would strike him, and now, thanks to one of the people involved in the building itself, he had his plan.

  He’d gotten up early and spent the morning taking photo after photo of the building. In the early days of the series, he encountered hostility and suspicion from the site workmen. Now, as they moved from site to site, he encountered a lot of the same men. They recognized him, joshed with him, and asked when it was their turn to be featured in one of his paintings. He laughed and joked with them, pleased to be developing a sense of camaraderie. It helped when he was taking photos. Some of the men were Cowboys and Angels customers too, and he’d bought more than one of them a drink at the bar in the hope they’d agree to be painted.

  Kneeling on the floor of his studio, Cris spread out the photos. He’d managed to capture the early morning sunlight coming around the edge of the building. It loaned the half-constructed building a sharp, almost-fragile quality, but with a promise of the design to come—much like the man he wanted to paint. Bennett had the possibility of so much more than he
was at the moment, yet it was his fragility as well as his experience that attracted Cris to him.

  Cris was deep in thought, adding rough sketches to the photos when there was a knock at the studio door. For a second he was irritated at being disturbed. When he was in the flow of things, it was hard to focus on anything else. He sighed, got to his feet, and headed for the door, but his irritation swiftly vanished at the sight of Bennett leaning against the wall, dressed in a navy hoodie, tight blue jeans that molded to his long thighs, and wearing a tentative smile on his face, as though he weren’t sure of his reception. Cris held out his hand, tugged Bennett into the studio, and slammed the door shut behind him.

  “Well hi….”

  Anything else Bennett was going to say was muffled by Cris’s mouth as he pushed Bennett against the wall and cupped Bennett’s face with his hands. Bennett needed a shave, and his bristles prickled Cris’s palms, but he didn’t mind that. Bennett flailed a moment, but then he settled his hands on Cris’s hips and returned his kiss with enthusiasm. Bennett tasted of the fresh morning air, underlaid with coffee and bacon. Cris ran his tongue along Bennett’s lips, and Bennett parted his eagerly. One of them groaned—Cris wasn’t sure which one—and the sound was swallowed up between them. Cris slid his hand up through Bennett’s dark hair. The curls were cool to the touch. Bennett wrapped his arms around Cris’s waist and kissed him harder.

  When his lungs protested the lack of oxygen, Cris drew back and looked at Bennett, who blinked, his eyes glazed, still lost in the throes of the kiss. Cris waited until Bennett focused on him again.

  “Morning.” Cris grinned at him, although it was probably more of a smirk.

  “Is it still morning?” Bennett said. “That kiss seemed to last forever.”

  Cris brushed Bennett’s lips again. “Is that a problem?”

  “Not for me.”

  Their lower halves were still pressed against each other, and Bennett’s arousal pressed against Cris’s. Cris loved the fact they were of a similar height. When he rolled his hips, Bennett gasped.

  “I want to suck you,” Cris murmured into Bennett’s ear. He hadn’t intended to greet him like that, but once he had Bennett in his arms, he didn’t want to let him go.