Tall, Dark, & Ginger (Last Call #4)

1. Ridley

ONE

RIDLEY

I sit slumped in a chair, watching Florian and Wren at the bar, laughing about something I can’t hear. We’re all here early so Wren can serve up some new specials he’s been working on, but I don’t want food. Not even food as good as his.

I’m restless as fuck, and I have been for weeks, I just don’t know why.

Actually, that’s a fucking lie. I know why.

I need to get laid, but I can’t seem to seal the deal lately.

Longer than lately. It’s been too damn long and my hand isn’t cutting it anymore.

No amount of solo jacking is getting me through this.

It doesn’t help that the hottest ginger I’ve ever seen is living in my house, walking around in his boxer shorts and nothing else when he thinks the rest of us are still asleep, singing to himself in the guest room, and very happily letting the rest of us cook for him on his days off.

This relentless fucking crush has only gotten stronger the last few months, and it’s killing my vibe.

“Why the face, man?” Kit asks, scooting his chair closer to me.

“Am I making a face?”

“You look like you drank sour milk.”

I huff a laugh. “Nothing like that.” Rubbing my forehead, I turn my attention to my friend. “Just thinking about shit. I know you’re all tied down now, but do you know of any good apps for hooking up?”

Kit’s eyebrows rise in surprise for a second. “Since when do you have trouble finding a hookup?”

“I need something with substance but nothing serious, you know? Like a guy Stewart’s age.”

“Or Wren’s age.” He nudges my arm with a smirk on his face. “Let’s get to the real issue here.”

“That obvious still, huh?”

“Dude, let’s just say I’d like to play poker with you.”

“I can’t get over him, man. He’s not just gorgeous, he’s smart and funny. He’s kind. It’s just that he’s broken as fuck, and even if he was ready for a relationship he clearly doesn’t see me as an option.”

“We don’t know that.” Kit squeezes my shoulder, and both of us look up as Jerryn and Bane join us. “Hey, guys.”

“It’s so nice out,” Jerryn gushes, settling into a seat. “We took the scenic route walking here.”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I agree.

“What’s going on?” Bane asks.

“Dating advice.” Kit chuckles. “Our friend is hung up.”

Bane shoves my arm. “Why don’t you just tell Wren you like him?”

Blowing out a breath, I shake my head. “He’s not into me. I’m not a total dumbass. He doesn’t look at me like that at all. I’m his boss, nothing more.” I pick at a cuticle. “Besides, he hasn’t been out of that shitty relationship very long.”

Jerryn’s gaze is fixed on Wren as he sets glasses on a tray. “I don’t know about that, Rid. I see his eyes linger on you sometimes. He seems to like being around you.”

“No more than the rest of you. I promised myself I wouldn’t be a creep.”

“Hey, guys.” Wren’s voice cuts through my sullen mood, and when I glance up, the warm smile on his face makes my insides twist. “Florian cooked up a drink special I think you’ll like. Especially you, Rid.”

“Why me?”

“You don’t like super sweet drinks. This one has a nice spicy bite to it.”

He sets a tall glass in front of me, filled with ice and a two-tone drink that’s almost clear at the bottom and amber at the top.

“It’s called a Tall, Dark, and Ginger,” Wren says with a grin. “It’s rum, ginger beer, lime juice, and bitters.”

“I do love ginger,” I murmur, taking the glass and lifting it to my lips. The burst of citrus and ginger on my tongue is pleasant, mellowed by the rum. “Mm. Delicious.”

“Perfect for summer,” Wren adds. “Goes down smooth too.”

“Florian is so good at these drinks.” Jerryn nods appreciatively. “I’m meeting with him in a few weeks to come up with my signature drink.”

Bane is focused on Jerryn, a warm expression on his face. “It better be sweet.”

Jerryn chuckles, even as his cheeks turn rosy. One day, I’ll ask Bane why he’s never made the leap even though he’s obviously in his feelings when it comes to Jerr.

“Be right out with food,” Wren says.

I watch him walk off before my attention shifts to Lowen and Oakley coming in the front door. “You made it.”

Lowen nods, smiling at all of us. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

“How’s the latest project going?” Kit asks.

Oakley pulls out a chair for Lowen, kissing him on the cheek as he sits. If you ask me what true love physically looks like, I’d like to present exhibit A: Oakley Rhinehart.

“Good,” Oakley says, sitting next to Low. “Only a few snags so far. I don’t know who Yves

has in his pocket in the city council, but any time we have trouble with an inspector or a permit, he resolves it overnight. Normally that’s my job, but he told me to make sure I let him know what obstacles we hit.”

“Yves is a very intense individual,” Lowen adds. “But weirdly easy to work with.”

“Agreed,” Oakley says. “At this rate, the next apartment building should be ready in a month.”

“So cool,” Bane says. “New Onyx desperately needed more affordable housing.”

Indy and Salem finally saunter in, and exactly zero of us wonder why they’re late.

Those two fuck like rabbits at any time of the day, and I gotta wonder if it’s Salem’s age keeping Indy so wrapped up or if my friend just has superhuman dick abilities.

Not that I’m slacking, but at forty plus, I need a little more recovery time between sessions.

Salem grins, sliding into a chair and patting his flat belly. “I’m starved.”

“Your steady diet of dick-downs isn’t enough?” Kit teases.

Salem doesn’t miss a beat. “I have many appetites.”

Indy squeezes the back of Salem’s neck and leans in to kiss his cheek.

I huff in frustration. I have no fucking idea what I want when it comes to romance.

What Indy, Kit, and now Lowen have seems hella nice, but I’m not like any of them.

I’ve never been a guy who’s into permanent domestication, but I’m also not dead set against it like those guys were.

And yet here they are, all in love and shit.

Maybe I just keep chasing the wrong thing. Like emotionally unavailable men with more baggage than an international airport.

Do I need therapy? Could I sit down with a stranger and talk to them about how all I want to do is fuck and get fucked, but when Wren walks in the room, suddenly I’m thinking about cozy Sundays in bed? There’s gotta be a way to get this man out of my head.

As if on cue, he comes out of the kitchen, followed by his sous chef, Carlos, both of them carrying trays of food. They set them down on two empty tables and Carlos starts arranging plates as Wren launches into his presentation.

“As we head into summer, I wanted to create a few lighter specials.” He smiles at us and my stomach does a weird flutter.

His teeth are so white and straight, except for one canine, just slightly out of place and jutting forward, and it adds a shit ton of charm to his already really nice face.

“First, an appetizer. I’m glad you’re here, Oak.

You can speak for a lot of the guys who come in here to eat. ”

Oakley nods. “Sure thing, man.”

Carlos sets a platter of something brown and round in front of us.

“Mushrooms stuffed with goat cheese, sautéed in a white wine reduction on a polenta disk with microgreens.”

Carlos sprinkles the greens over the dish and proceeds to serve one to each of us. Wren turns back to the tray, mixing some kind of liquid in a bowl while I dig into the mushroom.

Kit moans as he chews his bite, while Oakley is too busy trying to get every drop off his plate. Lowen nods appreciatively as he chews. Salem is wiping Indy’s lips with a napkin, while Jerryn is studying his plate as Bane takes a second bite.

I scoop my bite into my mouth, surprised by the complex tastes exploding on my tongue. It’s earthy and rich, but it does come across lighter than most of the app menu.

Wren turns back to us, holding the bowl. “Thoughts?”

“Dude—” Oakley drops his fork. “—this is delicious. Like, you want way more than you got, but it’s the right amount.”

Lowen smiles at his man, nodding. “I agree. It’s rich, so the portion size is nice. It’s still hearty without weighing you down.”

“Ridley?”

I perk up when Wren addresses me directly. “Really good. I’m not a huge goat cheese guy, but this is creamy and nice. Not too tart.”

He smiles, then begins to ladle soup into bowls. “This is a chilled cucumber soup. I’ve noticed we’ve been getting some comments on our socials about more soups, and the winter ones I made were a hit, so I figured I’d keep it going into the summer.”

Carlos drizzles all of our bowls with oil and adds a garnish of roasted corn.

I dig in, dragging my spoon through the cold, slightly thick soup. It tastes like literal summer, and while I wouldn’t order it personally, I can see how it would appeal to a lot of our clientele.

Lowen very daintily scoops up a spoonful with the corn and tastes it. He’s the most discerning of all of us when it comes to what he wants on the menu. I’ll defer to him.

“Very nice, Wren,” Lowen says. “When it gets humid and hot, this would be lovely with a salad or the banh mi wrap.”

“I had that in mind when I came up with it. Think I might do a special combo.”

Oakley and Indy are scraping their spoons on the bottom of their bowls. Indy looks up with a sheepish grin. “It’s fucking good.”

“Thanks,” Wren says. “Bringing out the entrées. We’ll be right back.”

I watch Wren walk away and sink deeper into my chair, choosing to cleanse my palette with the ginger drink. As I sip it, I chuckle.

“What’s funny?” Jerryn asks.

“The drink name,” I say. “Tall, Dark, and Ginger. Just like Wren.”

“You’re obsessed, man,” Bane says, but there’s nothing but affection in his tone.

“Sometimes you need to shit or get off the pot.” Kit squeezes my shoulder, but his words are aimed at Bane. “When you know you want something, no one’s gonna hand it to you. You gotta grab it.”

Bane’s gaze shifts to Jerryn, who is gazing obliviously into his drink.

“The layers are pretty,” Jerryn mutters. Bane grins, mussing Jerryn’s hair with one hand.

“Too much at stake,” I finally say. “I’ll get over it eventually. Some other pretty ginger with soulful eyes and a perfect mouth will come along one of these days.”

“This is gonna be good,” Salem says quietly to Indy, but I catch it.

“What is?”

“Your downfall. I imagine it’ll be as exciting as watching Indy fall was for all of you.”

“Pshh. I ain’t falling nowhere. If I’m the last bachelor standing in this group, that’s fine.”

“I think that’s my title,” Jerryn says, grinning and looking at Bane, who takes a second to return a casual smile he obviously doesn’t feel.

And I thought I had it bad.

The kitchen doors open with a clang and Carlos and Wren join us again, carrying several platters they set down in front of each of us.

“My take on family style tapas,” Wren announces.

“There’s a sushi taco with avocado crema, diced spicy tuna, and a sliver of radish on a lightly fried wonton skin.

Next is a crostini with a tomato relish and a grilled peach compote.

Finally, my summer take on a meatball. It’s turkey meat with a ball of mozzarella inside and sticky Asian sauce. ”

Carlos leaves and comes back with another tray as we all scoop these delicious looking bites onto our plates.

“I have a pasta special too,” Wren adds. “It’s a spicy primavera sauce over linguine with grilled shrimp and asparagus slivers.”

“Ooh, give me that,” Salem says, reaching for a plate.

We dig in, sampling and discussing each dish. The guys always have a lot to say, but I’m a simple guy with average tastes—pretty easy to impress, in other words. I think of it from the customer perspective though, and this is a nice way to appeal to the lunch and dinner crowd.

“The sushi taco is amazing,” Kit says. “And I don’t even love sushi.”

“Thanks, man,” Wren says.

I realize he’s looking at me, and as I drag a piece of bread through the pasta sauce, I grin. “It’s good.”

“You like it?”

“This is my favorite. And the meatball too.”

He smiles, nodding. “Good. Oakley?”

“The crostini isn’t my jam for lunch or dinner, but I’d eat them if I was just coming in for a quick drink. Like a snack. The other stuff is fantastic.”

“Okay, good notes.”

Wren and Carlos clean up the dishes while the rest of us start prepping for dinner service. We’ve tweaked our schedule and started closing for two hours in the middle of the day when it was always slow so we can take a break ourselves.

Kit usually goes to see Stewart, while Indy and Salem “take a nap” as they call it, but we all know it’s another round. Jerryn and Bane play video games in the office while Lowen works on paperwork if he’s here.

Me? I just hang around talking to Florian or scrolling hookup apps out of habit.

Now that it’s been getting warmer, I go sit on the patio sometimes and read a book or people watch.

Wren never leaves. He cleans the kitchen, preps for the next service, sometimes even comes out to have a drink and shoot the shit.

And that’s why I never leave. Those few times when he comes out of the kitchen and hangs around. At the house, he generally stays in his room. I’ve started sitting in the common living room a lot more, but he doesn’t come down often.

It is, honestly, getting ridiculous. I gotta find a way to get over this guy.

He’s obviously not interested in me, and even if he was, that’s a recipe for disaster.

I don’t want to be his rebound any more than he wants to be another notch on my bedpost. At least, that’s what I’m assuming.

It’s not like we’ve talked about it, but Salem says Wren has always been a relationship guy and he’s recovering from a tough one.

I shouldn’t even be thinking about him as an option.

As soon as I get a guy in my bed, the thrill of it is gone. It’s some kind of fucked up game in my head, I guess. All the excitement is in the anticipation and never in the reality. That’s why it’s best I just get the gorgeous man out of my head and find something else to do.

And soon, before I do something stupid.