by Sue Brown
“You stink, Peters. Shower, shit, and shave.”
His phone beeped, and he squinted at the screen.
Can you do shift tonight? Start 8?
Cris sent a quick affirmative to Dan. The money was useful, and until something better came along, he couldn’t afford to turn down shifts.
But he needed coffee first and to wash away the stench of sweat. Then he could work up another sweat at the gym, spend the afternoon on his latest painting before his shift at Cowboys and Angels, and try to put Bennett Petrovski out of his mind for a while. His conversation with the elderly man had left him unsettled. He didn’t want to fall in love with Bennett only to be rejected. It wasn’t love at first sight. Lust, yes. Not love.
Cris shuffled toward his coffee maker, filled it with fresh grounds because he’d forgotten to set it before he went to bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Half an hour later, with two large mugs of java inside him and showered and shaved, Cris felt able to face the world with bared teeth. Heaven help any asshole in the gym who hogged his machine. Cris was ready to tear them a new one.
As he laced up his boots, his phone beeped again. Cris growled, praying Dan didn’t want him to come in earlier. He needed some studio time, for his headspace as much his art.
Can u do shift 2nite?
Marlon, not Dan. Cris couldn’t believe Marlon was still trying his luck. Cris hadn’t been back to Forbidden Nightz since he walked out—or was fired, depending on where the gossip came from. Nor had he been responding to Marlon’s texts. Why did Marlon still think Cris would jump when Marlon snapped his fingers?
“The Lionman is dead. Long live Cris.”
That wasn’t as upsetting as he thought it would be. Maybe it was cutting off his nose to spite his face, or maybe it was time to move on, from the Lionman as well as the club. He texted one word back to Marlon and switched off his phone before Marlon could respond.
No.
Cris picked up his gym bag. Now for a little Cris time.
Chapter 14
BY THE time Cris reached Cowboys and Angels for the evening shift, he felt more in tune with the world. Snow had started to fall. Cris loved snow, and it soothed his soul. Crunching through the first layers left him red-cheeked and happy.
He’d had a good day—a hard workout at the gym and a gentle at-a-distance flirtation with one of the personal trainers who was really too young for him, but his wide-eyed admiration was good for Cris’s ego. Then he spent the afternoon lost in his latest painting of a spotter working at the docks. Cris had caught the concentration on his face as he worked, and he was satisfied with the way the painting was going. It didn’t strictly fit in with the construction series, but he could always change it to “men at work.” He hadn’t thought any more about Bennett’s painting. He needed photos of the housing development first, and he’d have to get out there before it progressed much further.
Cris’s good spirits lasted as long as it took to push the door open and find Mikey at the bar. That was not the Petrovski he wanted to see. Cris groaned and hoped Mikey would behave tonight. He wasn’t in the mood to handle another meltdown. It was unfair, but he still struggled to understand Mikey’s desire to marry when it was clearly not what he wanted. Mikey was involved in an animated discussion with two other guys and didn’t notice he’d come in. He looked happy enough, but there was no sign of Bennett.
Dan waved at him from behind the bar, and a couple of regulars nodded their welcome. Cris headed into the back and divested himself of his coat, gloves, and hat and took a deep breath. If Mikey decided to cause more trouble, Cris would drag him out and tell him some home truths, starting with his aunt’s story.
On cue, Dan pushed open the door and grinned at him. “Thanks for covering Bradley’s shift. The dude can barely sit up.”
“You’re welcome.” Cris bit his lip. “Dan, if Mikey—”
Dan shook his head. “He’s under strict instructions to keep his shit together this evening or he’s banned for life.”
“Will he listen?”
“If he doesn’t, he’s out the door. Gideon was right. He’s a fucking time bomb. I dealt with Ariel, and I’m not letting Mikey take her place.” Dan gave Cris a quick one-armed hug. “We’ll be fine. Now get out there. We’ve got happy hour soon.” Dan gently pushed Cris to the door.
“Yes, boss.” Cris hoped Dan’s confidence was justified.
They stepped out into the barroom, and Cris nodded a hello to Luis, who was working the far end of the bar, and smiled at a young guy holding out a bill. Cris served him and then the elderly man behind him.
Mikey waited for Cris’s attention. He grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry about the other night, man. Trashed, ya know?”
Cris gave him a curt nod. “Sure. Excuse me.” He turned to the next man, a thirtysomething Hispanic guy with huge twinkly eyes. “What can I get you?”
“Five Boroughs Hoppy Lager, thanks.” The guy narrowed his eyes. “I know you.” Cris waited for the usual comment about keeping his clothes on, but the man snapped his fingers. “You’re Mr. Eight.”
“That’s right. You were there?”
“Yeah, I was Mr. Fifteen. I remember your hair.” He turned to Mikey. “You were there too.”
Mikey shook his head vehemently. “You’ve got the wrong man. Sorry. It wasn’t me.” He backed away as quickly as he could, panic in his eyes.
Mr. Fifteen frowned as he looked after him. “Strange. I don’t normally forget a face, especially one as gorgeous as him.”
“Ya barking up the wrong tree there, man.” The man next to him gave a rumbling belly laugh. Of course it had to be Trey. “Mikey’s not a faggot. No offense, Cris.”
Cris gave him a thin smile. “None taken.”
Mr. Fifteen opened his mouth to argue, but Cris caught his eye and gave a quick shake of his head. Mr. Fifteen waited until the other guy left and then said, “It is the same guy?”
“Yeah. Here’s your beer,” Cris placed the glass in front of him.
“I didn’t realize he’s in the closet.”
Cris sighed as he saw Mikey’s panicked look from the other side of the room. “He’s doing the hokey-pokey at the moment.”
“Oh, one of those. What a shame. He’s a luscious piece of chicken.”
The man was virtually drooling.
“You can forget that idea,” Cris said sharply. “He’s not your prey.”
Mr. Fifteen held his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. Is he yours?”
Cris’s scowl deepened at the implication. “He’s a friend, and I’m looking out for him.”
“Okay, okay. Hands off. I get it. Oh, never mind, this one is way more my type.”
Cris had turned away to serve another customer, but he registered the purr from Mr. Fifteen. “What?”
Mr. Fifteen gave a nod to the man coming in the door, covered in a layer of snow. Oh, deep fucking joy. There was no way Cris was letting Mr. Fifteen anywhere near that man.
Cris snorted. “Good luck trying your hand with that one.”
“Not one of us?” He looked disappointed.
“He’s mine.” Cris smiled viciously.
The man held his hands up. “I get it. He’s yours. Hands off.”
“Just make sure you do.”
Cris moved away, not wanting to continue the conversation. Then Bennett looked around, saw Cris, and smiled tentatively, and Cris smiled in return. It was going to be a long night before they could talk.
“So you have history,” Mr. Fifteen said. “Looks like I’m out of luck tonight.”
“Maybe you’d do better down at Pinkies.”
Mr. Fifteen shrugged. “I like it here. The beer’s better. I’ll find someone to talk to.”
He wandered away, and Dan joined him. “Wasn’t that Mr. Fifteen?”
“Yup, and he can’t take his eyes off the Petrovskis. I warned him off.”
Now it was Dan’s turn to snort. “He’d have more luck with Chuck.”
Ch
uck was a fiftysomething longtime customer and a veteran. Bigger than Gideon, he hated queers and regularly talked about how he’d dealt with them when he was in the Marines. He “put up” with Dan because he liked the beer. Dan was sure the man was another closet case, but he didn’t cause any trouble beyond boasts of past action when he was liquored up. Since Dan and Gideon became a couple, Chuck kept his mouth shut most of the time.
“This dude is half Chuck’s size,” Cris protested. “You be mopping him off the floor if Chuck got hold of him.”
“Chuck is a pussycat.”
Cris shook his head. “Pussycat is the last thing I’d call him.”
“You just don’t know him as well as I do.”
“I’d like to keep it that way. I’ve got one highly strung male on my hands already.”
Dan smirked. “You have that. Changing the subject, I think we’ll be shutting early this evening. There’s a nor’easter that’s turning into a blizzard and they’re going to close mass transit. Gideon’s keeping an eye on it, and if it looks bad, we’ll probably close about midnight.”
“Okay, I’m not going to complain about that.”
Cris gave him a brief smile and then went back to serving. He caught Gideon making his way over to Bennett, but he deliberately didn’t pay much attention to their conversation. He didn’t have time to focus because there was a sudden influx of snow-covered guys. Dan, Cris, and Luis did their best to deal with all the customers, but there was a brief jostle for service at the bar. Gideon yelled at them, and they settled down to wait their turn.
The rush died down after a couple of hours, and it was Cris’s turn for a brief break. Cris hurried into the office and took the opportunity to close his eyes. Sometimes he sat at the end of the bar and drank soda while he chatted to whoever was around, but this time he didn’t want any chance of being collared by Mr. Fifteen for more information on Mikey. The man hadn’t taken his eyes off Mikey the entire evening.
“Hey.”
Cris opened his eyes at the greeting to see Bennett kneeling beside him. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Dan said I could. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Talk?” Cris waggled his eyebrows because he wanted to do more than talk. “How about kiss now and talk later?”
Bennett rolled his eyes, but he didn’t look averse to the idea. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy this week. I wanted to take you out to the project, but Tata’s been working me from dawn to dusk.”
Cris cupped Bennett’s jaw. “It’s okay. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I needed a little space.”
Bennett looked rueful. “I get it.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to see you.”
“I nearly called you, just to have someone to talk to,” Bennett admitted. “I had an argument with my parents yesterday. They were trying to get Mikey to set a date for the wedding. He got upset and stormed out, and Mama got upset. They wanted me to talk to Mikey, to make him see sense. Then Julianne called me in tears, and the situation got worse. I don’t know what to do.”
“Mikey is a heartbeat away from doing something really stupid,” Cris said. “Don’t you get that?”
Bennett’s expression darkened. “I’m not stupid. I know exactly what’s going through my brother’s head.”
“I know. It’s not my business,” Cris said wearily. “You can talk to me anytime, but I’m only going to tell you the same thing.”
“Enough about me and my family. What do you need?”
Cris was taken aback by the question. The idea that someone was interested in him enough to care what he wanted caught him off guard. Being part of a relationship, even a secret one, was still new and strange. “I don’t need anything.”
“Everyone needs something, Cris.” Bennett stayed where he was, and Cris was tempted to spill about the nightmare. But a nightmare was nothing like a brother losing his shit and a father who expected him to be the perfect son.
“Wake up, Lionman, your break is over.” Gideon’s booming voice interrupted them as he burst through the door from the bar and frowned as he took in the situation. “What the hell are you doing in here?” he snapped at Bennett, who flinched away.
“I just wanted to talk to Cris.”
“I told you to stay away from him.”
Cris blinked. Gideon had? Why?
“In fact I told you if you came anywhere near him, I would throw you out of my bar. And yet here you are worrying Cris.”
“Uh, Gideon—” Cris started. What the heck was Gideon talking about?
“This is none of your business,” Bennett interrupted. “This is between me and Cris. Stay out of it, Gideon.”
Cris groaned. At this rate, he was the one who was going to be thrown out of the bar without a job. No one spoke to Gideon like that except perhaps Ariel. Gideon and Bennett ignored him.
Gideon’s face darkened. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the one who loves him.” Bennett stabbed a finger at Cris, who stared at him openmouthed.
“You what?” Cris said faintly.
A broad smile spread over Gideon’s face. “That’s more like it.”
Bennett seemed to realize what he’d just said. “Oh shit.”
The door to the bar opened again, and Dan stepped in. “Where’s my barman?”
Gideon laid an arm around Dan’s shoulders. “Well, darlin’, it seems Bennett here has fallen in love with Lionman and wanted to tell him that he loves him. Isn’t that right?”
Bennett nodded faintly and looked ready to pass out. Cris was ready to join him. What had just happened? One minute they were just talking, and the next Bennett was declaring his love for Cris to Gideon. And what the hell was Gideon doing poking his nose into their relationship?
Dan scowled at all of them. “Cris is supposed to be working, in case all of you have forgotten. Bennett, you’ve had your talk. Now get on the other side of the bar. Gideon, you were supposed to be fetching Cris.”
“I tried,” Gideon protested, “but they were having a serious discussion.”
Cris threw his hands up. “Dan, Bennett said you let him in here. Bennett, you can’t just drop this on me and expect me not to freak out. Gideon, what the hell did you think you were doing shouting at Bennett? He’s mine. You don’t get to shout at him. I’m going back to work if I still have a job, and I expect everybody to leave me alone.”
He stomped past them all and back into the bar and zeroed in on the first person who looked as though they wanted a drink. He didn’t care who they were, he was going to serve them. He heard some heated words behind him from Dan, but he didn’t feel remotely sorry that Dan was reaming out Gideon for interfering in Cris and Bennett’s relationship.
They shuffled back into the bar about five minutes later. Bennett nodded at Cris, but he stayed away, and Cris kept his head down and worked solidly for the next hour. Despite the worsening weather conditions, the bar got busier and busier. Gideon made it known the bar was going to close at midnight and told all the complainers they could fuck off. Bennett stayed by Mikey, who behaved all evening. It seemed to have finally connected with him that he was on his last warning.
To Cris’s surprise, he saw Mikey talking animatedly to Mr. Fifteen. He seemed to have gotten over his panic at being seen with a gay man. Cris couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but there was a crowd around them, and they were all laughing at something Mr. Fifteen said. Even Bennett had a smile on his face. For a moment Cris was jealous. He wanted to be the one putting a smile on Bennett’s face, instead of the worry that habitually resided there.
“They seem to be getting on all right.”
Cris hadn’t noticed Dan by his side. “I don’t really remember Mr. Fifteen at the speed-dating evening. He remembers me.”
Dan gave him a wry smile. “They all remember you.”
“What?”
“All the guys remember you, dumbass. You stand out in a crowd. Nearly everyone is asking about you.
And you may not have noticed, but more gay men come here now that you’re working here.”
Cris was nonplussed. He hadn’t really attracted that much attention during the speed-dating event, and nobody had shown any interest in going home with him. He decided to focus on one part of what Dan had said. “How do the regulars feel about the new arrivals?”
Dan shrugged. “The new guys are just like the rest of the guys here. There’s been a few comments, but most have taken it okay. They just want to drink and play pool.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at Mr. Fifteen. “I know him from somewhere other than the speed dating, but I’m not sure where.”
“He’s a cop,” Luis supplied as he walked past with a tray of dirty glasses. “He’s down at the local precinct.”
Dan snapped his fingers. “Of course. I must have seen him when I got beaten up.”
“He’s interested in Mikey.” Cris looked over to the Petrovskis, only to see Bennett staring at him. But he looked away immediately and pretended to focus on the conversation around him.
“God, this is so painful to watch,” Dan said. “You two need to get your act together.”
“It’s not me,” Cris protested. “I’m a happy gay man, remember? He’s got to decide what he wants. He can’t say he loves me and then run back into the closet and slam the door. I don’t live like that.”
Dan looked at him for a minute and then said, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I know they’ve been giving you a hard time.”
“Not hard enough,” Cris quipped, but it sounded bitter even to him.
“Maybe you need to remind him who’s the boss?”
There was a brief flurry of customers, and Cris waited until they had gone before he answered. “If it were up to me, I’d be showing him who’s the boss right now.”
“Dude, TMI!” Luis squealed as he walked past.
Dan rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard you say much worse to your girlfriend.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luis said.