Robby (Cooper Construction Book 3)

by Jen Davis

  “When I dropped off Jimmy with your mama, she told me you were tending bar, but I thought she was pulling my leg.” She looked him up and down. “Never in a million years did I think I’d see the day Matt York worked in a bar.”

  “What are you doing here, Patty?” He kept his voice mild. The last thing he needed was to cause a scene and drive away his paying customers.

  Delving her hand in her purse, Patty dug out a five-dollar bill and slid it across the bar. “Bud Light. And keep the change.”

  He stifled the urge to point out she should be saving her money to get a better apartment. It wouldn’t do any good. Instead, he reached under the bar for her drink and popped open the top before swapping the bottle for the fiver.

  She took a long pull from her beer, her shoulders swaying slightly to the Rhianna song piping from the overhead speakers. “You look like you sucked on a lemon. Buck up, Matty. You’re always worried about when you’ll get to see Jimmy. At least you know you can pick him up from your mom when you get off.”

  True. Even if he did have to fit play time around shifts at the bar.

  “I miss you.” She sighed. “Can’t we just be in the same place for a little while?”

  Matt glanced around the room. No one was looking for a drink. “I’m working, but if you can respect that, you can stay.”

  She surprised him by nodding and ordering a hamburger. He watched the room using the high mounted mirrors while he stepped into the back and dropped a pre-made burger on the griddle. The patty was thin, and by the time he had the bun and chips in the basket, it was done all the way through.

  Stuffing the bottles of ketchup and mustard under his arm, he grabbed the food and placed it in front of her. She ate as he filled a few drink orders.

  He leaned against the bar in front of her when he was done.

  She’d made it about halfway through her meal. “So not only are you tending bar, you cook now too? It’s even edible.”

  With anyone else, Matt may have played it down, but Patty knew better than anyone how underdeveloped his culinary skills were. She’d been there when he’d set off the smoke detector making a grilled cheese sandwich. He’d tried to wave the smoke away with a hand towel, which caught on the flame of the gas burner. Suffice it to say, the exercise had ended with a spent fire extinguisher, flakes of black ash floating around the kitchen, and a thoroughly petrified, blackened parody of a briquette sandwich.

  “I’ve been practicing. I may never be a master chef, but I can handle the basics. Haven’t set anything on fire in at least nine months.”

  Patty grinned into her food. “Maybe you can give me some tips. Unless it’s pre-cooked with a clear film on top so I can stick it in the microwave, I’m probably going for a bowl of Lucky Charms.”

  Matt wrinkled his nose. “I’ll never understand how you think those hard, little fake marshmallows qualify as food.” It was an argument they’d had more times than he could count over the years. Sliding back into the debate was like slipping on an old comfortable pair of shoes.

  “Funny how a man who can’t melt cheese on two pieces of bread can be such a food snob.”

  His heart squeezed painfully. It had been so long since he and Patty had hung out this way. For all the awful shit volleyed between them in the past year, there were a thousand happy memories built around nearly a decade of friendship. Late night study sessions over cheap Little Caesar’s takeout pizza. Binge watching old episodes of the Battlestar Galactica reboot. Sitting side by side while he played Final Fantasy and she sketched out the characters into fanfic comics.

  It struck him how deeply he loved her. Other than his son and mom, there was no person on this earth who he’d felt more connected to than Patty. Only their bone deep bond prompted him to make love with her that night. A mistake, yes, but it was the wrong thing done for the very best reason.

  “You’re thinking too hard.” Patty tapped her temple. “You’re gonna pop a blood vessel up there.”

  Matt nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand landed on his left shoulder.

  “Sorry I didn’t check in sooner,” Tom said, an easy smile on his face. “Why don’t you grab a few minutes break, and I’ll keep an eye on the bar?”

  He’d been so involved in his conversation with Patty, Matt had completely forgotten his boss had promised to drop in this afternoon. “Yes, sir. I appreciate it.”

  Grabbing his bottled water from the ice from the cooler where he’d stashed it at the beginning of his shift, Matt peeked at his watch. How the heck was it after three o’clock already? Only three more hours until he was done for the night.

  He took the empty barstool beside Patty.

  She crunched a potato chip, then pushed the empty basket away before facing him. “You seem comfortable here. All these people don’t bother you?”

  “Nah. I don’t really have to talk much. I just get them what they ask for. Take their money.” He shrugged. “I’m just an extension of the bar, no different than a piece of furniture.”

  “Just the way you like it.” Patty covered his hand with hers. It was soft and cool, and he didn’t pull away. Her presence next to him soothed his aching loneliness.

  Why couldn’t she be like this all the time? His life would be so different. “You always did understand me.”

  Her hand twitched. “I thought I did. I thought we’d be together forever. Now it’s like we’re strangers or, even worse, enemies.”

  “You act like I cut you out of my life. That’s not what happened.” God knows, he’d never intentionally give up his best friend. He would have done anything to keep her.

  Well, he would have done almost anything.

  “No.” She released his hand to take a sip of her beer. “But it hurt too much being around you. After.”

  “I never meant to hurt you. You’ve got to believe me.” Though he couldn’t regret their night together. Not when it brought Jimmy into his life.

  “Why did you do it? It’s not like I pushed you. I never even tried to take it there.” Her stare, normally so accusing these days, instead looked sincere and haunted as it searched his solemnly. “I would have never risked us.”

  Tough as it was to deal with a drunk or angry Patty hurling insults his way, a conversation with a thoughtful, mournful Patty was so much harder. This Patty deserved an answer. Unfortunately, he didn’t really have one.

  What she’d said was one hundred percent true. He had initiated something sexual between them—not her—and blaming the alcohol could only carry him so far. It gave him courage, for sure, but he knew what he was doing. He’d needed so much to feel normal again after finding Shawn dead, and Patty was like a salve on the open wounds of his heart.

  “I did it because I loved you.”

  She scoffed.

  “You asked me, and I’m trying to answer you.” He raked fingernails over the thighs of his khakis. “I never wanted to be with anyone that way. But after a while, I wanted to want it. You were safe and beautiful, and I knew you loved me too. I thought if there was anyone in this world who it would be right with, it would be you.” The very idea of sharing something so intensely personal with someone he didn’t love and trust completely—it didn’t just leave him cold; it made his stomach churn.

  Except with Robby.

  “But you hated it,” she murmured.

  “No!” Matt took her left hand in both of his. Some of her warmth had already disappeared. “I didn’t hate it.” But he’d known it was wrong. Known it from the moment her tongue brushed against his. He’d tried to tell himself it was because he was nervous, because it was his first time or because he was doing it wrong. He’d lied to himself.

  His love for Patty might have been enough for a single spark, but it never ignited the fire he knew he should feel.

  Meanwhile, with Robby, sparks were starting to shoot all over the place.

  Patty groaned. “For future reference, I didn’t hate it isn’t exactly a glowing endorsement. Why won’t you just come ou
t and admit you’re gay? Stop lying to yourself.”

  Was that what he was doing?

  It’s not like he spent his nights jerking off to gay porn or exchanging pictures of his privates with strangers online. Yes, he’d had a passing attraction to guys here or there, but the same was true with women. It just never held up to deeper scrutiny.

  He closed his eyes, and Robby’s face wove itself into the darkness. His kiss echoed in his bones.

  Almost never.

  His tingle of attraction for Robby Jordan showed no signs of blinking out yet. In fact, the more they hung out, the harder it got to ignore. And after last night, he doubted he ever could.

  His lips parted in an unbidden smile…and froze as Patty’s breath fanned across his cheek.

  Chapter TEN

  Robby

  Robby squinted at the GPS on his phone as Siri’s version of a British man told him to turn right. A little warning would have been nice. He had no way of turning from the center lane.

  He fumed. Something vaguely familiar about the neighborhood nagged at him, but he was too wired to give it much thought. Besides, directions had never been his strong suit.

  “Please proceed to the route.” How could an automated voice sound sexy and judgmental at the same time?

  Technically, it was possible Siri did warn him about the turn half a mile back. It usually did. His mind had been elsewhere, though.

  Bailing on Matt this morning had been a mistake. He’d made up the thing about having errands to run, afraid to face the aftermath of their kiss. He’d only felt the overriding need not to be there when the guy woke up.

  He’d driven to the animal shelter and spent the morning playing with dogs. The joy and unfettered love those pups gave settled him like nothing else could. No one wanted them; chances were, at least for some of them, his was the only attention or affection they would have in a day. It was humbling, heartbreaking, and affirming all at once. And it left absolutely zero time to wallow in his own insecurities.

  But all good things had to come to an end. When the shelter closed for lunch, he had to go home and face the music.

  The sofa had still held a trace of Matt’s cologne, but it had been the only sign the man had spent the night. He’d sat on the center cushion and hugged the throw-pillow to his chest, reliving each glorious minute of the night before.

  Why had he bailed this morning?

  Not because he didn’t want to see Matt, but because he didn’t want to see the look on his face when he regretted their kiss. Gracious, their kiss. He couldn’t get it out of his head, no matter how he tried to occupy his thoughts with other things. Because now he knew the texture of the man’s lips. The feeling of Matt’s surrender against him.

  He craved more.

  His lapse in self-control could have ruined their friendship. He didn’t have it in him to wish it undone, but what if Matt did? What if they couldn’t go back and they couldn’t go forward?

  Two hours of unproductive panicking later, he drove to face his fears. If Matt wanted to blow him off, the hit would be better coming outside of work. He would have time to process it alone, if he had to. It would be better than having to paste on a pretend smile to hide the disappointment in front of his friends.

  Brick would burn the world if he thought someone had hurt him. It warmed his heart, but he didn’t want Matt to face his buddy’s wrath over a little awkward regret.

  “Please proceed to the route.” Siri’s inflection didn’t change, but it sure felt like the phone was fussing at him.

  “I’m going.” Gripping the wheel, he turned into a gas station parking lot to reorient himself and get back on track. The bar was just two more minutes away.

  Without any other navigational drama, he found the place and parked. Cars packed the parking lot, but with Closing Time in a strip mall, there was no telling which business had the lion’s share of the customers. Hopefully, Matt wouldn’t be too busy.

  Robby dropped the visor and gave himself a once-over in the mirror. He needed a haircut; his mom would be aghast at how his bangs kept falling into his eyes. Brushing his long locks back with his hands, he checked one side of his face, then the other—for what, he didn’t know. He looked like himself. It wasn’t like Matt would care anyway.

  He closed the visor with a snap.

  This was ridiculous.

  The idea didn’t stop him from practicing his smile as he climbed out. Not too big; he didn’t want to look like a shark. Maybe a smirk. No—a lopsided grin. Everyone loved a lopsided grin.

  Now, what to say?

  “Hey, buddy, long time no see.”

  Lame.

  “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Lamer.

  “I heard you were the guy to see about some Rum Punch.”

  Eh.

  He paused outside of the door and almost hightailed it back to the car. But Kane’s voice echoed in his head, telling him to nut up or shut up, and it gave him the push he needed to grab the handle and venture inside.

  Only to stop in his tracks at the scene in front of him. Matt—on a barstool with his eyes closed—with a woman sitting beside him. She was black, her skin just a shade lighter than Matt’s. Her hair was natural: with little twists pulled away from her face with a cloth headband.

  Not beautiful but striking. Her eyebrows were lined and perfectly arched. And the way she stared at Matt—her brown eyes were liquid and reflected a longing so deep, it made Robby’s stomach clench.

  Slowly, she leaned forward, and a smile blossomed on Matt’s face.

  Robby turned on his heel before he had to see their lips meet. His mouth dried up like a desert, and his heart dropped to his stomach.

  It didn’t matter how many times he’d reminded himself Matt was unattainable. That he was grateful to have just their friendship. He’d only lied to himself. Well-intended lies, perhaps, but still patently untrue.

  If anything, the time he’d spent with Matt only added fuel to the fire, and their kiss leveled it up to an inferno. Now reality smacked him square in the face.

  His body went on auto-pilot, his mind checking out while his heart screamed for comfort. He blinked as he found himself standing in front of Nitro. Somehow, he’d missed how close Matt’s bar was to his old haunt. Just a half a block away and across the street. Obviously, some part of him had taken note, because here he was.

  It wasn’t hard at all to walk in—mostly because he’d broken the ice with his recent return and, even more importantly, because John never hit the bar scene this early in the day.

  The music thumped across the walls and from the floor up through the soles of his feet, pushing a constant, reverberating tingle into his legs. The familiar sensation comforted him, born of a hundred nights experiencing the same thing.

  He settled at the bar and lifted a finger at the bearded bartender serving a couple a few feet away. Even in the early afternoon, most of the bar seats were filled and more than a dozen men were grinding against each other on the dance floor.

  “What can I get you, sugar?” The bartender hooked a thumb in the suspenders he wore over his bare chest, drawing Robby’s eyes to his smooth pecs and pierced nipple.

  “Hook us up with some lemon drops, Lucas.” Parker put a hand on his shoulder before perching on the stool beside him. “Leave the bottle and just put it on my tab.”

  The bartender winked, then turned to the wall of liquor bottles displayed behind him. He pulled down a bottle of Absolute Citron and set it on the bar before pushing forward a box of lemon wedges and a shaker, presumably filled with sugar. “Can I get you anything else?” Lucas leaned toward Parker, covering the man’s hand with his own.

  Parker smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just some shot glasses. We’ll call you if we need you.”

  Nodding, Lucas pulled the glasses from under the bar. His eyes moved from Parker to Robby, then back again. He blew Parker a kiss as he backed away toward the men gathered a few feet down.

  Robby tugge
d the glasses toward himself. He could have a drink, dammit. It wasn’t the same as using. “I always associate these with you, you know.” The vodka made a satisfying splash as he poured it.

  Parker licked the top of his hand and sprinkled the sugar on his damp skin. “Remember when we killed the whole bottle? The last time the gang was all here.” He reached into the box for a lemon wedge. “Five years ago, maybe? I think it was my birthday.”

  As he’d done so many times in the past, he mirrored Parker’s actions, smattering his hand with sugar and grabbing a lemon. He didn’t wait to play out the ritual, licking the sweetness before tipping back his shot. The citrus flavor played across his tongue for a moment before he followed it up with the tart lemon.

  A shiver rolled down his spine, but he shook it off impatiently and poured another shot. “I can’t believe you still come here.”

  Parker lifted his brows, his eyes mocking. “I saw you here not so long ago. It’s not like I’m drinking by myself today, Lambchop.”

  Jerk. He hated the nickname, and Parker knew it.

  As the second shot warmed his chest, he shook off the irritation. He’d come here to feel better, and dammit, he would.

  Parker put a hand on his arm. “Grab the bottle. Come with me. There’s a private room in the back.”

  Why the hell not? He clutched the bottle to his chest while Parker grabbed the shot glasses and lemon wedges, then led him to a roped-off back door. The security guy standing there didn’t so much as blink as they passed.

  His thoughts drifted back to Matt and the woman at Closing Time. What were they doing now? Did Matt leave with her? Did he take her home?

  Parker snapped his fingers three times. “Are you high right now, dude?”

  Robby swatted the guy’s hand out of his face and joined him in a shiny leather booth. “Cut it out. I don’t do drugs anymore. Just give me my shot glass.”

  Parker slid it across the table, then reached out and rested a hand on his arm. “It’s still kind of unreal seeing you again. When you stopped coming around, I thought maybe you’d found a new Daddy or you moved back to where you came from.”