Wild Angels

by Bethany Brown

  He let his mouth descend with a bit more force than he had before. Brad opened to the assault instantly, and Patrick thrust his tongue inside. He twined it with Brad’s and sucked, pulling a moan from the younger man. A hand landed in his hair as Brad’s tongue met his in a rather active dance. Running his tongue over the roof of Brad’s mouth, a move that had the other man trembling in his arms, Patrick pulled away. He smiled into Brad’s dazed eyes as he tried to regain control of his raging libido. “Let’s go.”

  Debbie was waiting with their bill when they made it to the counter. She had an indulgent smile on her face as Patrick paid for their lunch. When she handed him a pie box, he looked at her in confusion. “That is for Julian.”

  “You’re sending Julian a pie?”

  “It’s apple crumble, his favorite. Give that to him and tell him to come see me.”

  “Will do. It was good to see you, Debbie.”

  “You too, Patrick. Take care of yourself.”

  “I’ll try.” With a final wave, they made it out of the diner. Once outside, Brad took the pie from Patrick so he wouldn’t have to carry it with his bad arm. Patrick smiled his thanks, then held the door of the truck open so Brad could climb in with the pie.

  The drive back was silent. Patrick was thrilled with how well the date had gone and even more so with the fact that Brad’s hand was once again on his thigh. He loved it when Brad touched him. The joy over how well the date had gone still wasn’t enough to stop the disappointment when he pulled into Brad’s driveway. He didn’t want Brad to leave.

  “I had a good time,” Brad stated, putting the pie box on the dash and undoing his seat belt. “This was really fun.”

  Patrick was about to respond when he suddenly found himself with an armful of web designer. This was the first kiss that Brad had initiated, and Patrick surrendered willingly. Brad’s tongue forced its way into his mouth and his hands ran over Patrick’s T-shirt clad chest. When Brad’s fingers brushed the nipple with the piercing, Patrick groaned and nearly hauled Brad into his lap. By the time Brad released him from the kiss, his head was spinning and his erection was trying to drill through his jeans.

  “I want to invite you in, but I’m not ready.” Brad’s words were panted against his neck.

  Patrick ran his hand up and down Brad’s back. “I know. It’s okay, baby, I’m not going to push. Plus, it is only our first date.”

  “True.” Brad pulled away with a smile. “I guess the next one is up to me.”

  “That it is. Give me a call.”

  “I will.” After one more ravenous kiss, Brad got out of the truck and headed into his house.

  Patrick watched his ass the entire time. Once Brad was safely inside and waving good-bye, Patrick put the pie on the seat and started to drive. He was headed for the shower when he got back to the house. Patrick shifted uncomfortably as his erection continued to throb behind his jeans. A very long shower.

  Brad was staring at his fireplace. There wasn’t a fire in it; it was still too warm for that. It just happened to be the only thing directly in front of him where he was sitting. Sitting and staring. Sitting and staring and thinking. In the exact same place he had been sitting since after breakfast.

  He glanced down at his watch. It was after two. No wonder he was hungry. He had missed lunch. He really needed someone to talk to. Brad was sure there was a rule somewhere that said best friends weren’t allowed to be out of town when you were having a sexuality crisis. Stupid Graham.

  Graham, his best friend since they were five, was staying with their mutual friend Cooper for at least the next month. Cooper’s family owned a ranch and, on top of losing one of their ranch hands to a ballet company, Cooper’s father had broken his leg. Graham was helping out until they could get things back under control, which was nice, but it meant he wasn’t there for Brad to talk to.

  Fuck it, I’m just going to call him. Brad grabbed the phone and dialed Graham’s cell phone. He stood and started to pace while the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Graham?”

  “Brad? Hey, it’s great to hear from you. You won’t believe some of the stories I have.” The sound of Graham sitting down could be heard over the phone. “Remember Cooper’s sister, Dawn? Well, we were out checking the fences and—”

  “I went on a date with a man.”

  “And your story is now officially more interesting than mine.”

  Brad gave a weak chuckle. “I guess.”

  “So, you really went on a date with a guy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it good?”

  Brad smiled as he thought back to the day before. “It was probably the best date that I’ve ever been on.”

  “Wow, who is this guy? Someone I know?”

  “No, and that’s the problem. He’s leaving at the end of the month.” Brad sighed and tossed himself back onto the couch. He and Patrick had only been on one date, and Brad was already dreading him leaving. This was not good.

  “Wow.”

  Brad glared at the phone. “Is that the only thing you can say?”

  “Hey, give me a break, Brad. This is the first I’ve heard of you being interested in men. I’m trying to adjust.”

  “Me, too,” Brad sighed. “I’ve always been interested. I was just too scared to do anything, and I hadn’t met anyone who was worth it.”

  “Well, you do like to cuddle a lot.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Graham’s laughter bubbled over the line. “You do. Even when we were kids. If we were watching a movie, you would end up half on top of me by the time it was over.” There was a long pause. “You’ve never been attracted to me, have you?”

  “No, never.”

  “Wow, way to save my ego.”

  “Your ego doesn’t need saving.”

  “What about Cooper?”

  “Cooper’s a walking wet dream. Of course I was attracted to him.”

  “Hey, I’m just as good-looking!”

  “You like to think so.” Brad laughed weakly again and ran a hand over his face. “God, I really wish you were here right now.”

  “So do I.” Graham sighed. “So, do you want to keep dating this guy, or was this just a one-time thing?”

  “I think I want to keep seeing him. Graham, he kissed me the day we met.”

  “Huh, I didn’t realize that you were so easy.”

  “Hey! I am not easy.”

  “You just said that he kissed you the day you met. You didn’t even get a date in before the kissing started. I’d say that makes you easy.”

  Brad glared at the phone. “I really want to hit you right now.”

  “Well, now I’m glad I’m not home. I really don’t want you to hit me.”

  “You suck.”

  “Not really, but apparently you’re thinking about it.”

  Brad turned bright red at the image that conjured. “Sometimes I really hate you.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face again. “I don’t know what to do, Graham. I’ve never done anything like this, and I’m a bit scared of how much I want to.”

  “You know that this will change everything for you, right? I mean, hell, I’ll still love you, man—you’re like family—but you have to know that it’s going to change things for you.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you ready to handle that?”

  “I think so.”

  “Okay, then the only thing you need to answer is: do you like this guy?”

  “Yeah, I like him.” Brad thought about the way Patrick had smiled at him while they were eating lunch. “I really like him.”

  “Well, then go for it.”

  “Cool. So, how are things going at—” Brad stopped talking as his cell phone chimed at him. “Shit.”

  “What is it?”

  “I got a text. Just let me check it.” Brad flipped open his phone to look at the message.

  Get off the phone. Now.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a mes
sage from Isaac. He wants me to get off the phone.” Brad sighed. “Sorry, Graham. I’ve gotta go.”

  “Not a problem. Look, call me later. I want to hear more about this guy you’re dating.”

  “I will. Thanks for listening, Graham.”

  “Anytime. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Brad hung up the phone with a smile on his face. He was starting to feel better about the Patrick situation. Brad settled against the couch while he waited for his brother to call him back. Hopefully whatever Isaac wanted to talk about wouldn’t take too long. He really wanted to talk to Patrick.

  He had a second date to set up.

  Chapter 8

  “Hand me that patch cord?” Jack asked, straddling a barstool and leaning over a guitar in a way that was extremely appealing. Patrick had made fun of his age to Julian in jest, but the man was in excellent physical condition, there was no doubt about that.

  Julian handed it over without looking up from the mess of other wires he was untangling. “I’m beginning to think we shouldn’t have left in such a hurry last week.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy yourself?”

  Julian flushed right up to the tips of his ears—some things never changed; Patrick would never get tired of seeing that as long as he lived—and glanced over coyly. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Patrick groaned from his barstool. “The two of you are giving me cavities.” Not to mention putting inappropriate images in his head. He craned his neck around, looking for Brad. If he was going to be having inappropriate thoughts, they might as well star his favorite bartender.

  Roz hit him on the arm. “Your giraffe impression is impressive, Peacock, but your boyfriend’s not coming.”

  “But I put on my lucky pants!” he protested, trying to hide his disappointment. Brad had said he would be here. They still needed to schedule that second date. Besides, he had been looking forward to stealing him for a dance or two. And maybe copping a feel or two, as well.

  On Roz’s lap, Hallie giggled, both hands over her mouth.

  “Well, it’ll be staying in your lucky pants tonight. He went to see his brother in Edmonton,” Roz explained. “Isaac is divorcing his wife or something. It was last-minute. Gord’s covering.” She waved over at the interim bartender, a man in his fifties with white hair and a mustache. “He was the bartender here before I was even legal.”

  “Oh.” He thought he might recognize the man from a past visit to Julian, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. “Well, family’s important,” Patrick said absently, eyes tracking back across the crowded bar to Jack and Julian on the makeshift stage. As far as he was concerned, family was something you could choose.

  “Yeah,” Roz agreed. She sounded off; Patrick whipped his head around to ask what was up with her lately, but Julian interrupted with a triumphant cry from the stage.

  “Got it,” Julian announced, separating the last two in a nest of black cords. “I knew that medical degree would come in handy someday.”

  Jack played a few notes, fiddled with the tuning peg for the highest string, strummed another couple of chords, and turned up the volume with his foot.

  Julian blew him a kiss and went to sit with Patrick, Roz, and Hallie at the bar. “Is he any good?” Patrick asked casually. He was still watching Roz out of the corner of his eye.

  Julian gave him a wry look. “I’m kind of biased.”

  “He plays with my dad,” Hallie told him matter-of-factly. “My daddy isn’t a very good singer, but don’t tell him I said that. It might hurt his feelings.”

  Oh, she’s going to break hearts, all right. Patrick smiled. “Don’t worry, Sprocket, it’ll be our secret. Tell me, do you dance?”

  She nodded. “Dr. Julian taught me the Jitterbug!”

  So that was where that nickname came from. Good to know. “Hmm, I don’t think I know that one.”

  “Don’t worry. He’ll teach you.”

  Patrick grinned. “That’d be a nice change,” he teased.

  Julian met his gaze squarely, eyes lighting with the challenge. “You’re going to eat those words,” he promised gleefully.

  There was a short burst of static as the microphone came on, and all heads in the bar turned to Jack. “Hey, Roy, I need you on those drums.”

  The neighbor Patrick hadn’t officially met slid onto the stool behind Jack and picked up the drumsticks. “Everyone say hello to the traveling cop sitting at the bar and remember to behave yourselves,” Jack said cheerfully.

  Patrick waved. A couple of girls near the back exchanged whispers. Well, they’d learn soon enough.

  Jack launched vigorously into the opening chords of a well-known Queen song that had the whole bar tapping its collective feet in no time. “How ’bout that lesson?” Julian grinned, standing and offering his hand.

  What the hell. Maybe it would take his mind off the disappointment of not seeing Brad tonight. Besides, it’d be fun to see if Jack got jealous. Patrick finished his beer and let Julian pull him out onto the small dance floor, already crowded with happy patrons. “What’s with all the youngsters?” he asked, finding the basic pattern of the steps fairly easily with a little coaching. “This is a bar, right?”

  “The under-agers have to leave before ten,” Julian explained. “But they like the music, and it’s good for business. Those kids have more money than is good for them.” During the chorus, he added a tricky little maneuver that had Patrick faltering for a minute. “Besides, Roy and Hallie are inseparable on weekends. After the first set he takes her home to tuck her into bed, and Jack finishes up the second half solo.”

  Patrick gave up trying to follow Julian on this song—it was just too quick—and grabbed him around the waist instead. “It’s just too easy to make that into an innuendo.”

  Julian snorted. “Please. Like you’ve got a right to apply the words too easy to anyone or anything.”

  Patrick pinched his ass. Julian had filled out a lot since they’d met, and the extra weight suited him extremely well. Patrick had seen him getting out of the shower the other day and been caught practically staring at his ex-boyfriend’s sculpted body by Jack, who hadn’t seemed so much annoyed as smug about it. “Are those girls done ogling me yet?”

  “I think they just regained interest when you started groping me.” Julian pulled them to a stop as Jack segued into a slower song. “Okay. So, your first official lesson. Move your feet like this.”

  Patrick had a feeling that this wasn’t the Jitterbug, but he had no way to prove it and it didn’t matter. Julian was a fantastic dancer, and if he hadn’t also been a decent teacher, it would have been impossible to keep up with him. The patrons around them had stepped back, both to give them space and to enjoy the spectacle and try out the steps for themselves.

  When Jack and Roy broke for intermission, they sat down, grinning and breathing heavily. Gord slid a couple of bottles of Alexander Keith’s down the bar. Jack came over, sitting heavily on Julian’s other side as Roy and Hallie made their exit.

  “Speaking of taking orders,” Jack said cryptically, snagging a bottle and downing most of the contents.

  Patrick scowled at him good-naturedly. “Old habits die hard.”

  “So he was always this bossy?”

  “Actually, when we first met, he was too shy to try to order us around.” Patrick smiled, thinking back on the first time he’d met Julian, on Julian’s eighteenth birthday. “He got over that pretty quickly.” They had had some good times together after that. It had taken Julian some time to translate his natural tendency to boss people around into the bedroom, and he hadn’t done it often, but damn, it was hot when Julian got all toppy.

  “So it’s learned behavior.” Jack took another long pull from his beer and then set it down. “Well, it’s not like I’m going to complain about that.”

  “I can hear you,” Julian pointed out. “The rest of the bar does not need to know about my kinky bedroom habits, thanks.”

  Jack
and Patrick exchanged glances. Jack said, quietly, “I doubt there’s anyone here who hasn’t guessed.” Julian had already turned away again to talk to Roz, so he didn’t comment.

  Patrick snickered. And speaking of guessing…. “You ever been to Fever? It’s this night club in Calgary—”

  Jack sputtered a cough, put his beer back down—empty this time—and glanced at his watch. “Time for the second set!”

  Patrick watched him go, eyes narrowing.

  Julian didn’t let him dwell on it for long, though; someone had pulled Roz onto the dance floor, and now Julian wanted to go too. Besides, it wasn’t like it was any kind of hardship to have the hot doctor practically draped over him. Patrick let himself be pulled back into the crowd, Julian leading the way.

  “Okay,” Julian nodded, turning to face him. “You’ve got the moves down. Now let’s see if you can do them backwards.”

  Patrick made a face. “You’re not going to let me lead?”

  “Not this time, hot stuff.” Julian took one of his hands and put it on his waist and then rested his own hand lightly on Patrick’s shoulder. “Ready?”

  Patrick let him guide him around the floor, their chests inches away from each other. “Have you gotten better at this since college?”

  “I may have taken a lesson or two.”

  Patrick stopped thinking about his feet and started following more naturally. He was starting to work up a sweat, but Julian was moving as easily as ever. It was distractingly hot.

  “That’s not my hip,” Julian said conversationally.

  “That’s all right,” Patrick replied, squeezing. “That’s not a banana in my pocket.”

  “What a coincidence.” Julian closed the remaining distance between them and dropped the hand from Patrick’s shoulder neatly into the waistband at the back of Patrick’s pants.

  “Shit.” Patrick wanted to moan when the rough denim of Julian’s tight black jeans buffed smoothly across the leather covering his groin. “Julian, it’d be really bad form if we got arrested.” Julian had always had perfect confidence on the dance floor, but this was borderline obscene.