PRIEST LOOKED ACROSS the center console of their Range Rover to where Julien was sitting staring out at the traffic passing by. He hadn’t said two words since Priest had arrived at the restaurant, made their apologies to Lise, and then ushered Julien out to the car. And now as they sat there in the dark confines of the SUV, Priest reached over to take Julien’s hand in his.

Julien started slightly, and when he turned his head in Priest’s direction, he said, “Je suis désolé.”

Priest shook his head as he slipped his fingers through Julien’s and squeezed them. “Don’t apologize to me. You know I don’t need it.”

Julien looked down to their hands and then nodded.

“Are you going to tell me what happened in there this afternoon, mon cœur?”

Julien leaned his head back against the seat. His lips were pulled tight, and the side of his jaw ticked, his face a mask of torment as he thought about whatever had happened earlier.

“Julien?”

“Oui. It was…Gail, that was the reporter’s name. She started out nice enough. It felt good, comfortable. We ran through the usual Q&As, but then she started to ask questions I didn’t want to answer. Questions she knew she wasn’t supposed to ask. I’ll never understand why reporters think they can get away with that shit when it’s clearly stated in the contract I sign that I will not discuss my private life.”

“So you told her to get the fuck out.”

Julien’s head whipped around so that he was facing Priest, and when he saw the crooked grin on Priest’s lips, Julien shook his head.

“I did,” he admitted, and then brought his hands up to cover his face. “I lost it, Joel. I…”

“Julien?”

“She just kept pushing and pushing, and asking all these questions about my parents and Jacquelyn, and after last night, I—”

“Julien,” Priest said, his voice firm now, wanting to cut through the rambling words and panic he could see forming behind Julien’s eyes. “What did happen last night?”

Julien went to turn away, but before he could, Priest reached out and took hold of his chin, keeping his face angled toward him. He pinned Julien with a look that demanded he tell the truth, and finally Julien said, “Nothing. It was just—”

“Really?” Priest interrupted.

Julien opened his mouth, and Priest leaned over the middle of the car until only inches separated them.

“Don’t lie to me,” Priest said. “What happened last night?”

Julien brought a hand up to circle Priest’s wrist, and then he stroked his thumb over the pulse point, closed his eyes, and whispered, “She found me.”

No other words needed to be spoken. Those three told the entire story and confirmed what Priest had suspected. “The nightmares started again.”

Julien didn’t open his eyes, merely nodded, and Priest released his face so he could slip his fingers around to the back of Julien’s neck and tug him across the console, resting their foreheads against one another.

“I’m here,” Priest said, as a shiver racked Julien’s body. “I’ve got you.”

One of Julien’s hands came up to curl around the lapel of Priest’s jacket, and as he held on, Priest shifted and put his lips to his cheek.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, wanting to get Julien somewhere they could talk a little more. “You need some rest, and—”

“Non. I—” Julien paused, and when Priest went to move away, he tightened his grip on his jacket. “I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to see her. Not again. Not yet. I want to forget…”

“Okay,” Priest said, and reached for the death grip Julien had on him, gently prying his fingers free. “That’s okay. We won’t go home. We’ll go somewhere else.”

Priest reached across Julien for his belt and buckled him in, and once he was back on his side of the car, he said, “In fact, I have the perfect place we can go.”

“THE POPPED CHERRY?” Julien said around fifteen minutes later, as he and Priest walked up a narrow side street where they’d managed to find a parking spot. The wind was whipping up a storm tonight, and as the clouds hurried across the sky, they picked up their pace heading toward the main door.

Priest held his hand out, and Julien automatically took it, moving into his side. “Yes. I realized we haven’t actually been here before—together.”

Julien nodded as they reached the entrance, and noticed the busy Friday night crowd inside. “You’re right.”

Priest pulled open the door and stood to the side as the muffled sound of music and chatter drifted out onto the sidewalk. “And what better way to forget than to distract yourself watching our princess in action?”

“You know,” Julien said, as he stopped in front of Priest, and then he leaned in and kissed him, “I can’t think of one. Merci. This is parfait. Exactly what I needed. You, him, and a drink.”

Priest let go of the door and kissed Julien back a little harder. “I told you. Now let’s go and find him.”

When Priest added a wink, Julien felt his knees weaken at the flirtatious move. It was rare that Priest got like that, but when he did, he was—if it were possible—even harder to ignore.

The heavy door to the bar swung shut behind them, blocking the cold air, and as they stood in the entryway, Julien scanned the busy floor below.

There were people everywhere. Standing at tables, sitting in booths, and crowded around the bar. The music was a nice, steady beat distorting one conversation from the next, and as Julien unbuttoned his coat, Priest helped him out of it and then leaned down to say in his ear, “He’s over behind the bar.”

Julien’s eyes drifted past the people perched on barstools, and those standing in between to order, and when they zeroed in on the sexy bartender shaking a cocktail mixer, Julien took a moment to enjoy the man they’d come to see.

Robbie had on a burgundy button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a fitted vest that showed off his trim waist, and he was all neatly tucked in and professional looking. But when you paired that with his kohl-rimmed eyes, slicked-up lips, and the leather band that was wound around his right wrist a couple of times? He looked mouthwatering, and Julien decided that Robbie was the perfect distraction for any night of the week—but especially tonight.

He would happily lose himself in his men and alcohol—the serious and suited one beside him and the sexed-up little minx behind that bar.

“Take me to him,” Julien said, as he took his coat from Priest.

As Priest walked them through the crowd, Julien kept his eyes on Robbie as he moved from customer to customer. His blue eyes were sparkling, his lips smiling, and his pure joy for life radiated out of him.

With the ease of one who knew he was charismatic, Robbie flirted his way down the bar with both the women and the men, and that grin he aimed at all of them made Julien want to grab Robbie and kiss him until he was moaning.

Priest maneuvered them toward the end of the bar away from Robbie so as to not distract him, and then he turned to Julien and said, “Let me see if I can get us a couple of seats.”

Julien nodded, and Priest held up a finger, indicating that he give him a minute, so Julien went back to watching their guy, finding himself utterly fascinated and his mind now a million miles away from his troubles.

Robbie was laughing at something a woman had just said to him as he put a wine glass on the counter and filled it with a red, and once he was done and sliding it across to her, he put a haughty hand on his hip and rolled his eyes, making her laugh merrily at whatever he’d just said.

Cheeky boy, Julien thought, wondering what exactly that had been. But whatever it was, Robbie had certainly made the lady’s night, and that was what was so special about Robert Bianchi. That brilliant smile and vibrant energy he possessed. He merely had to flash it in a person’s direction and they would feel infinitely better for having been near him.

“Julien?”

His name had Julien turning to see Priest standing at the far end of the bar in the corner where two stools were now free, and the man on the opposite side of the counter from him was someone Julien had seen twice now but only ever met once, at Priest’s Christmas party this past year—Tate Morrison, Robbie’s boss.

With a head full of curls, smiling eyes, and a grin that was as inviting as it was smug, Julien could see why the bar was so popular. Its owner was charismatic as hell.

He walked over to where Priest was now taking a seat, and as Julien moved in to take his, Tate braced his hands on the counter and said, “Welcome back to The Popped Cherry, you two.”

“Thanks,” Priest said, as Julien laid his coat over the counter beside him. “Busy tonight.”

Tate looked out at the crowd and nodded. “Yeah. Always is Thursday through Sunday.” Then he redirected his gaze back to Priest. “Not a bad thing to be.”

“Not at all,” Priest said, and then turned to Julien. “You remember my husband, Julien?”

“I do,” Tate said, and Julien wondered if there would be any awkwardness between them. Not only because the guy had dragged Robbie away from them the second time they’d all met, but also because Julien wasn’t sure whether Robbie had spoken to Tate about next weekend yet. But when Tate held his hand out for Julien to shake, he took it.

“It’s nice to meet you again. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Tate said as he aimed a look over his shoulder to where Robbie was standing, still oblivious to their presence. “I have to say, this is the second time in my life I’ve had people I know be obsessed with you.”

Stunned, Julien looked over at Priest, who shrugged, and Tate started to chuckle.

“Not him,” Tate said. “My ex-wife watched Chef Master religiously. I would say she was your number one fan, but I think we all know a certain someone who would take issue with that.”

As if Robbie had some inner radar alerting him that people were discussing him, he finally turned his head in their direction, and when his eyes latched on to Julien and Priest, they practically sparkled with pleasure.

“I think you might be right,” Priest said, and Tate nodded as Robbie went back to his customer and slid a pink cocktail across the bar to a young woman who blew him a kiss. “Congratulations, by the way. How’s married life treating you?”

“Pretty damn good so far,” Tate said. “Actually, Logan was supposed to stop by tonight, but he got held up.”

“Now that’s a shame,” Priest said, tongue in cheek, but it was clear to Julien he was happy the other man wasn’t there tonight for some reason or other.

“Well, maybe next time,” Tate said. “I think it’d be nice if we could all catch up. Maybe you could come to dinner at the new house, since the condo is a little smaller.”

Priest aimed his eyes at Robbie, who was saying something to the man up that end of the bar serving with him, and then said, “If you can get your husband to behave himself when we’re around, then I think Robert would like that. What do you think, Julien?”

What did he think? Julien couldn’t believe how nice Tate was. He’d expected him to be judgmental and standoffish. Yet the vibe he was getting from Tate was anything but that. He was genuinely interested in them all becoming…friends.

“I think that’d be really nice, and I know Robbie would love it. Actually,” Julien said, thinking back to this morning and how highly Robbie had spoken of this man, “we can definitely plan a dinner for sure, but how would you and Logan feel about coming to the opening of my restaurant next month?”

Tate’s eyes widened a fraction. He clearly hadn’t expected that, and when Priest turned to look in his direction, Julien smiled and nodded.

“It’s perfect. Robbie has two tables to fill, and I know he’d love to have you there.”

Tate glanced at Priest, clearly making sure he was okay with it, and then chuckled. “Okay. We’d love to.”

“Fantastic,” Julien said. “It’s on Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, even better,” Tate said. “I’ll just tell Logan I’m taking him somewhere special.”

“And he won’t mind that it’s Julien’s place?” Priest asked, and Tate looked at him and shook his head.

“After the lovely…chat you two had on his first day back, he’s had some time to come around. He’s happy for Robbie, he was just being—”

“Logan?” Priest said. “Yes, well, his mind may have changed since he found out today that Robbie has moved in with us.”

Julien watched Tate’s face closely at that piece of information, waiting for some kind of shock to cross his face. But instead, he grinned at the two of them and said, “I don’t know whether to congratulate the two of you or wish you luck. Robbie’s a handful.”

“That he is,” Priest agreed.

Julien let his eyes wander to the beautiful man now heading in their direction and said, “Lucky for us, we have four hands between the two of us.” Which had Tate laughing.

“We won’t hold him up tonight, you have our word,” Priest said, as Robbie got closer. “We just realized we hadn’t been here together and decided to come and check it out.”

“Sure thing,” Tate said. “And I’m sure the bar is the last thing you’re here to check out. Trust me, I have no problem with you being here. Logan used to come into the bar I worked at every night. As long as he paid, I didn’t care. The same goes here. As long as you’re paying, you can sit here and flirt with him as long as you like.”

“Good to know,” Priest said. “We just might do that.”

“You just might do what?” Robbie said, as he finally saddled up beside Tate and let his eyes move from Julien to Priest.

“Sit here and flirt with you all night,” Priest said with his eyes locked on Robbie’s, and when Tate turned to look at him, Robbie’s face flushed pink.

“Are you blushing?” Tate said.

“No.” Robbie glared at Priest, who had a smug expression on his face, making the color spread further down his neck. “Quit looking at me like that. I’m at work, Mr. Priestley.”

“Like that’s bothered you in the past,” Tate said, and then looked at Priest. “I’m impressed. You made him shy. That has to be a first.”

“I…” Robbie said, and then got hold of himself and propped his hands on his hips. “I am not shy.”

“Looks like it to me,” Tate said with a shit-eating grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush.”

Robbie then went from rosy-cheeked to full-on scarlet, and suddenly Julien wanted that face turned in his direction.

“Now that’s a shame. He’s so pretty when he does. Don’t you think?” Julien said, and just as he’d hoped, Robbie angled his head in his direction. “Mignon comme une, princesse. Pretty as a princess.”

A stunning smile curved Robbie’s lips, and as Julien ran his eyes down over him, Robbie forgot his moment of embarrassment and preened under the attention.

“Keep going…” Robbie said.

Instead, Julien tapped his lips and said, “Embrasse-moi,” and was delighted when Robbie didn’t think twice about it. He leaned across the bar and kissed him, right there in front of Priest, Tate, and anyone else who wanted to see, and that made Julien’s possessive side sit up and take immediate attention.

When Robbie pulled back, he looked to Tate, who shook his head.

“He does have a certain shine about him tonight beyond the usual glitter and lip gloss,” Tate said, and when Robbie poked his tongue out, Tate chuckled. “Okay. Okay. I’m going to leave you three to it. I hope you have a good night. Let me know if you need anything.”

With a final wave, Tate walked off and Robbie moved to stand between the two men and put his hands on the counter. He then aimed one of the sultriest looks Julien had seen in Priest’s direction and said, “Well, don’t you want to kiss me too?”

Priest opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Robbie raised his hand and put a finger to Priest’s lips—much the same way Priest would usually do.

“There’s only one right answer here,” Robbie said, sucking on that shiny lip of his. “And I should warn you, if I don’t hear it, I will pout.”

Priest took Robbie’s wrist, pushed up on his stool, and then tugged him forward until they met halfway across the bar. Then he said against Robbie’s mouth, “Can’t have that now, can we?” and pressed a rough kiss to Robbie’s lips.

Robbie let out a dreamy sigh as Priest let him go, and then fanned his face with his hand. “No, we certainly can’t.” As he straightened, Robbie looked between the two of them and said, “You know, a boy sure could get used to this. Two sexy men showing up at his work to—what did you say—flirt with me?”

“I did,” Priest said. “We wanted to see you.”

“Well,” Robbie said, and batted his lashes, “feel free to look.”

Priest’s lips quirked at the sides as he reached for the thin menu on the counter and began studying it. “You are incorrigible.”

“Which you like, if I recall.”

“You would be right,” Priest said, looking at him over the menu. “So, keep up this sassy attitude of yours. It makes us hard as hell.”

“Hmm,” Robbie said, and touched the tip of his tongue to his top lip. “I like that.”

Julien licked his own lips, wanting Robbie’s tongue in his mouth. “Sassy, cheeky, flirty. You’re exactly what was missing to our night, princesse. You’re parfait.”

“So you weren’t kidding? You really are going to sit here and flirt with me all night?”

Robbie’s eyes were alight with excitement at the prospect, and Julien didn’t think he’d ever seen him look so beautiful.

“That’s the plan,” Priest said. “At least until we can take you home and get you naked.”

“Jesus,” Robbie said. “You can’t say shit like that to me when I still have hours left. Now that’s all I’m going to be able to think about.”

“It’s all we’re going to be thinking about too,” Julien said, and shifted on his seat, his dick stiffening at the arousal swirling in Robbie’s eyes. “Where, when, who first…”

Robbie gulped in a breath of air and then looked all around to make sure no one was listening, and luckily for them, they were fairly secluded in the corner at the end of the bar. “Umm…that’s super hot.”

“So are you,” Priest said. “Now let me read this menu and order us some food. I doubt Julien’s eaten all day, and we need to feed him so he doesn’t fall off his stool with his first drink.”

As if a light bulb went off, Robbie’s eyes widened and he turned Julien’s way. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I didn’t ask as soon as I saw you. How did the interview go?” Julien winced, and Robbie screwed up his nose. “That good, huh? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, princesse.” Julien winked, trying to reassure Robbie that he was telling the truth. “I’m fine.”

Robbie pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing on Julien. He wasn’t buying that for a second. “Are you lying to me?”

Julien chuckled, and Priest said, “Yes, he is. That’s why we’re out drinking.” Priest then placed a hand on Julien’s thigh and squeezed. “But tonight he wants to pretend he’s okay, so you and I? We’re are going to let him.”

“That’s right. The only thing I want to think about doing tonight,” Julien said to Robbie, “is you.”

Robbie’s lips parted, and a soft “oh” left his lips.

“Want to help me out with that?”

Robbie didn’t speak, merely nodded—slowly.

“Bien. Then I think I’d like a drink,” Julien said, finding this detour a very effective one, because right now all he wanted was to rip Robbie’s clothes off and sink his cock deep inside the willing body he knew he would find under that uniform.

“Um,” Robbie said, and when Priest laughed, Robbie cleared his throat. “Stop laughing at me. I’m… Shit. Give me a minute. I can’t think when he’s being all French and looking at me like I’m naked.”

“Would you like me to stop?” Julien asked.

“Hell no. Do I look stupid?” Robbie said, taking a step back and indicating his body.

“No,” Priest said, and ran his eyes over Robbie. “You look like you’re”—Priest cleared his throat—“at work and therefore off-limits.”

Robbie let out a deep sigh, and as he rolled his eyes, he said in his most professional tone, “Okay, spoilsport, fine. Good evening, Mr. Priestley and Mr. Thornton, welcome to The Popped Cherry. What can I get for you both tonight, until, of course, you’re able to have me?”

And it was in that moment that Julien found he went from smitten to one hundred percent falling for the man behind the bar with the twinkling eyes and charming disposition.