- 2 What the Hell was He Thinking?
What the hell was he thinking, it was Gregory Charles’s only thought as he walked into Brawlers Bar and instantly stuck out. Where he’d worn a pinstriped designer button-down shirt and dark slacks he was surrounded by leather and denim. He nervously raised his hands and smoothed his perfectly styled hair which was longer on top and shorter on the sides. His uncontrollable waves tamed with too much product.
He looked around trying to spot Landon. His employee and friend invited him to his fourth-anniversary party. He’d thought it would be fun, but now he wasn’t so sure.
“Gregory,” Landon’s voice drew his attention.
Gregory snorted and smiled at the crazy man standing on the bar waving his arms. He noticed Zerk, Landon’s husband reaching up to pull Landon from the bar, but he was laughing too hard to get a hold on him. Those two men were crazy.
He wove through the crowd as he kept his gaze on Landon. Gregory started to trip as he felt a hand on his ass and he spun to confront the offender, but all he could see was the center of a wide cotton covered back. Powerful muscles strained against the shirt.
“Hey, don’t touch,” a dangerous, gravelly voice made him back up a step. “We don’t touch someone else property, do we fucking understand each other?”
He didn’t catch an answer, but the huge man who’d stepped in to protect him turned. Gregory tipped his head all the way back. A gorgeous man with a scowl stared down at him.
“You must be Landon’s boss, I’m Psycho, I’ll escort you to the bar.”
His tongue wouldn’t work, and his mind was completely blank. He was sure he should say something, but nothing was coming out.
“You’re cute, and all, and the awe is stroking the ego, but—”
“Psycho,” A soft voice came from his right, and he turned to find a graying man, deep laugh lines beside his twinkling blue eyes.
“Yes, Ben,” Psycho asked as his massively muscled arm reached out and tugged the older man to his side.
“Don’t try that innocent stuff with me. Quit embarrassing the newbie.”
“Yes, dear,” Psycho ruined the innocent tone with a snort.
“It’s a wonder I love you.”
“Don’t be mean, Ben.”
Gregory stared at them with his mouth hanging open. The large dangerous man gently tipped Ben’s chin up with his fingertips and brushed a soft kiss on the man’s mouth. Psycho gave Ben a look so loving it almost made Gregory sigh.
“Hi, I’m Ben.” Ben held out his hand as he was tucked under Psycho’s arm.
“Gregory, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Don’t let Psycho give you a hard time, he’s really good at it. Come on.” Ben stepped away from Psycho.
Gregory instantly found himself being tugged forward by Ben through the crowd—a crowd which couldn’t separate fast enough.
“My boyfriend is highly protective. He’s threatened everyone that if they touch me, they’re dead. He won’t do it, well, maybe he won’t—”
Gregory laughed nervously. This is not what he’d expected when he decided to spend an evening with Landon. He was ready to go home.
“Don’t even think about it,” Landon whispered in his ear.
“What was I thinking?”
“About escaping, not happening. I see you’ve met Ben and Psycho.”
“Someone grabbed my ass, Psycho stepped in.”
“He’s not as bad as he looks. Elijah completely loves him. I’m so glad you came. Come on let me introduce you to everyone. You’ll never remember everyone’s name, and besides, there are too many weird ones.”
Gregory found himself in the middle of a group of men and women. He was bombarded by names, drawn into conversations he regretted instantly. A blond with dreadlocks was the worst of them. He had no filter.
He sipped at the beer he hadn’t wanted until hours passed and he realized he was enjoying himself. Everyone was friendly and open. Yes, they didn’t know what polite conversation was, but it was refreshing to not always be on alert—to always be picture perfect.
He checked the time to find it close to 1 a.m., and Landon’s group appeared to be the only ones left.
“I’m going to the bar to get some coffee, do they have—”
“With Elijah here, they’ve got a pot going all the time.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
Gregory slipped from the booth and strode to the bar, a man he was introduced to earlier named Twitch was wiping down the glossy surface. He slowed as he noticed the neon and overhead lights shimmered off liberally silver streaked black hair. It was shaggy on top and combed back, buzzed on the sides. The man was staring down at a glass of amber liquor. Big hands wrapped tightly around the glass. He seemed to be having an internal debate, one second he was lifting it to his mouth and the next slamming it down with barely suppressed anger.
The anger is what made him hesitate. Arnold, his husband of five years, was an angry drunk. He’d already had Psycho come to his rescue, so maybe the man wouldn’t mind doing it a second time.
With a fortifying breath, he continued and took a seat beside the man. Wow, the strong profile hinted at a rugged face.
“What can I get ya?” Twitched bounced up.
“Coffee, black.”
“Elijah’s favorite.” Twitch reached down and produced a mug, flipping it over to set it in front of him.
“Make it two.” Gregory didn’t know what made him say that and nodded toward the man beside him.
“Whatever the handsome man wants.” Twitch quickly produced another mug and filled both. “Just holler if ya need anything else.”
“You’re only supposed to flirt with me, Twitch.”
A blond behemoth he faintly remembered maybe named Crave and married to Twitch leaned on the bar.
“How do you think I make my tips?”
“Oh, you’re so in for punishment when we get home.”
Gregory was about to defend the man when a broad smile broke out on Twitch’s beautiful face.
“And? Maybe I like—”
Gregory blocked out their conversation and focused on his coffee. The man beside him hadn’t taken his eyes off the rock glass. He seemed to be inhaling the scent of whiskey or whatever through his nose and then through his mouth as if tasting the aroma. The stranger didn’t seem to be paying any attention to Gregory’s existence at all.
He curved his fingers around the mug and absorbed the warmth through the ceramic. It was weird, and he didn’t know why the man fascinated him. Gregory could admit he was attractive in a rough, bad boy sort of way, but maybe the man was too old to be considered a bad boy. His silver beard was in need of a trim.
“Did anyone ever tell you, Boy, it’s not polite to stare?”
Holy shit, the voice was a sexy rumble with an edge of growl.
“Boy? I haven’t been a boy in a long time.”
The snort he received wasn’t friendly. “What are you thirty?”
“Thirty-six, thank you.”
“You’re two years younger than my son, definitely a boy.”
“Someone is running for Grumpiest Old Man of the Year Award.” Gregory turned his attention back to his coffee and raised the mug to his mouth. He savored the strong brew as he regretted sitting beside the man.
“Play nice, Bull,” Landon’s voice came from behind him, and Landon threw his arms around Bull’s waist.
“When have you known me to be nice, Landon?”
“That’s true. Ten years and you’re still an asshole. At least you’re consistent.”
“You’re asking to have your ass reddened?”
“That’s the plan when Zerk gets me home.”
Bull’s rough chuckle took Gregory by surprise. A hairy arm lifted and reached back to ruffle Landon’s hair. He’d didn’t think he’d ever seen that much hair in his life. Arnold waxed everything every couple of months to the point his body hair came in light and fine.
“Go on, you freaky little shit, I ain’t got time for you.” Bull teased Landon’s waves one more time before bringing his arm back down.
“You always have time for me, besides you haven’t introduced yourself to my boss yet. Gregory, this is Bull, Bull, this is Gregory, be nice and say hello, Bull.”
Glittering eyes, one blue and one green turned on him, they were beautifully clear, crystallized shades, oddly pale. “Gregory.”
“Nice to meet you, Bull.” He didn’t bother extending his hand because he knew the man wouldn’t take it anyway.
He observed as Bull pushed his glass away and picked up the mug.
“I better get going. I didn’t tell Arnold I’d be out so late.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s out of town anyway.”
Yes, anyone else it would probably be okay, but Arnold got mad if—Gregory pushed away the thoughts. There wasn’t much he did that made Arnold happy. When Arnold got home, he was going to give Arnold the divorce papers.
“I’m sure, but it’s late, and I’m normally in bed long before now.”
“You early to bed, early to rise people make me sick.”
He chuckled at Landon’s disgusted tone, then looked up to find Bull watching him. Bull’s eyes were empty of emotion, but it felt as if that gaze was burning through him. As if all his secrets were exposed to Bull. He jerked his stare to Landon and forced a smile.
“I know, a total party disappointment.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Bull announced.
“I’m sure—”
“You’re sure of a lot of things, but I’m still walking you out.”
Landon gave him a quick hug, and he slipped off the stool. “How much for the coffee?”
“I got it covered,” Bull’s tone didn’t allow for refusal.
His first moment of real fear hit him. Years of practice helped him hide it, he shoved his hands in his pockets to disguise their shaking. A soft, growl had him darting his eyes to Bull and knew he was caught.
“Let’s go.”
Gregory walked beside Bull to the exit. The parking lot was deserted, and there were spotlights at the corners of the building facing the lot. With the neon Brawlers sign off, he could only make out the outline of his black car.
“Next time park closer to the building, employees and their partners have all the spots at the front. Take one.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be coming back. This isn’t—”
“Not your scene, yeah, kinda figured that.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Rough fingers grabbed his upper arm, “You didn’t. Get in.”
Gregory got in his car as quickly as he could and started his car. Bull stayed beside the spot until Gregory was pulling out. He could still feel the strength and warmth of Bull’s grip around his arm. He shook his head as he focused on the road ahead. There really wasn’t a reason for him to rush home. The thirty-minute drive turned into an hour one before he pulled up in front of his house in one of the richer neighborhoods.
He hadn’t liked it, but Arnold picked it out since he was paying for it. Gregory lifted his hand and pushed the remote for the garage door. His heart sunk to his stomach and he turned nauseous as he saw Arnold’s car in his usual spot.
He almost put his car in reverse and pulled out, but knew his punishment would only be worse if he delayed it. The abuse, mental and physical, became something he was used to, and he knew he shouldn’t have. That wasn’t the way a marriage was supposed to be, hell, it wasn’t how it was at the beginning. Two years ago, he’d earned his first insult, shortly after that, his first slap.
Gregory shook his head, turned off his car and exited it, then made his way into the house through the kitchen door. The bright light came on as soon as he closed it behind him.
“I saw you tonight, how many of them did you fuck before you came home,” Arnold asked in a slurred voice.
He didn’t have a chance to defend himself before the back of Arnold’s hand met his cheek, and he was at the mercy of his drunk husband.