Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
V al had great intentions when he woke up this morning. He was going to have a long, productive day working at the tavern.
“You know what they say about good intentions,” Val muttered to himself as he lined up another nail. Speaking of hell, maybe he could stop putting himself through it and focus on the damn task at hand.
After getting up nice and early, he’d had his coffee and a nice breakfast at his kitchen counter, where he put together a list of all the things he planned to have done by the end of the day.
The list was ambitious, but Val had a plan, damn it, and he was going to stick to it.
So, he gathered his supplies, put some music on, and got to it.
Except somehow now it was dark outside, and he’d barely gotten anything done. Why?
Now that he was officially retired, he could work on his tavern full-time rather than a few hours here and there.. He’d gotten a lot done in the three years since he’d bought the property. If he wanted to get it ready in time for the opening night he’d worked out, he needed to get his ass in gear.
The place had been gutted completely, giving him a blank canvas to work with. Once his business plan had been approved and funded, he’d worked on the layout, configuring locations for booths and tables, the bar and bar seating, and everything else. He’d researched materials and fixtures.
It was time for him to get to work. He could lose himself in his work and forget about Saint, forget about that sexy body and beautiful smile, forget about those dark eyes and the way Val could get lost in them.
An image of Saint at the hospital came to mind and Val paused. He thought about how close Saint’s lips had been to his, how warm his breath had felt, and how if Val had just leaned in—
“Motherfuck!” Val dropped the hammer and shook his hand.
At this rate, he was going to lose his damned thumb.
No matter how many times he told himself to pay attention and be careful, he’d end up causing himself some bodily harm.
“Get your shit together,” Val growled at himself.
“You are not new at this. How are you going to finish this place if you can’t even hammer a fucking nail into the wall? ”
Of course, his brain promptly came back with a different type of nailing. For fuck’s sake! It was like he was a horny teenager.
“This has to stop,” he told himself. “You need to stop thinking about him, his mouth, his ass, his everything. Enough.” He picked up the hammer.
“It’s fine. You’re fine. Tavern. Work.” Maybe he should call Saint, check up on him?
He’d told Ryden to give Saint his number in case he needed something.
It’s not like he couldn’t just be a good friend and call to see how his friend was doing. Maybe a text, and— Oh fuck, that hurt!
“Fuck this.” Val tossed the hammer onto the table.
“Okay, so today’s a bust. We can just pick up where we left off tomorrow.
” He frowned. He’d probably be thinking about Saint tomorrow.
“No. Nope. You know what you need? Other than to stop talking to yourself? You need to get laid. That’s what you need.
” That’s what he’d do. Go to Sapphire Sands, hook up with someone, get all this pent-up need out in one of the back rooms, and get back to work.
Leaving the tavern, he headed back home to take a shower and get dressed in something a little more appropriate.
He called Frank on the way to the club to let him know he was coming.
This was good. Tonight, the club would be packed as hell with single men looking to have a hot time.
Val could let go of some steam in the one place he knew Saint wouldn’t be.
Don’t think about Saint and stay away. That’s all he had to do.
So much for staying away.
When Val had first met Saint, he never expected that he’d be hung up on him all this time later. It had him at a loss. He’d never taken this long to move on from a guy. At first, his looks had gotten Val’s attention, but he hadn’t thought much of it.
Saint had seemed so serious, barely speaking while on the job.
And then Val had been invited to a party celebrating the unveiling of Gio’s new K9 charity.
That night, he’d quickly learned there was a whole other side to Saint.
When Saint wasn’t on assignment, he laughed, joked, and teased.
He danced, got hilariously tipsy, and could be painfully adorable.
Val had been captivated. He’d also had a fun night with Saint at that party.
It had been Val’s first hint that perhaps Saint wasn’t straight.
What the hell was Saint doing at Sapphire Sands?
As if the guy wasn’t already monopolizing Val’s thoughts.
Now there were visuals. Very hot, sexy visuals.
Saint wearing his tight Four Kings Security uniform was a mouthwatering sight, but seeing him dressed the way he was tonight was enough to make Val sweat.
Before tonight, it had been easy for Val to focus his attention elsewhere because Saint had always been here in a professional capacity.
He wasn’t out on the dance floor looking like a wet dream, his pants hugging him oh so beautifully in all the right spots, his shirt accentuating his slender waist, broad chest and wide shoulders, and those arms… .
No matter how hard he tried, Val couldn’t keep his eyes off Saint or the sinful way he moved his sleek, muscular body, his breathtaking smile lighting up the room.
It was genuine and drew in the men around him.
Saint didn’t seem to think anything of it as he laughed at something some guy said in his ear.
If he felt any discomfort from the sweaty men pressed up against him, he didn’t show it.
Instead, he looked like he was having a good time.
For fuck’s sake. Why the hell was Val doing this to himself?
Sure, he could leave, but he wasn’t going to because he was too old for this lovesick puppy bullshit.
He’d made a career of standing his ground; he wasn’t about to change that now because of one guy, no matter how sexy or sweet he was.
Why did he keep doing this to himself? Saint was not the only sexy guy around. Hell, this club was full of them.
“Why do you look like you ate something foul?” Frank asked as he slipped into the barstool to Val’s right.
“Just giving myself a good talking to.”
When Frank arched an eyebrow in question, Val motioned over to the dance floor. Locating the source of Val’s displeasure, Frank shook his head, amused.
“In all the years I’ve known your miserable ass, I’ve never seen you so obsessed over a guy.”
“What? Fuck off. I’m not obsessed. Also, I’m not miserable.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot this is what you always look like. Whatever this is.” Frank waved a hand in Val’s general vicinity. “It’s not the look of a man who’s moved on, and considering how damned stubborn you are, it’s not because you can’t, but you don’t want to.”
“Whatever,” Val grunted. He took another sip of his beer. The last thing he needed was for Frank to be the voice of reason. What was the world coming to?
“Now, here’s an idea.”
Val cast him a sideways glance.
“No, no. Just hear me out. What if you...just talked to him,” Frank said, looking too damned pleased for his own good as he leaned against the bar.
“Yeah? And say what? ‘Hey, I know you think you’re straight, but I think my penis could change that.’”
Frank barked out a laugh. He shook his head. “Why not? Maybe it’ll work.”
Val took another sip of his drink. “Doesn’t matter. Even if he’s not straight, there’s plenty of reasons it wouldn’t work.”
“Like?”
“He’s too young.”
“You have a problem with Joshua?”
“What?” Val was so confused. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I have a problem with your boyfriend?”
“Because Saint isn’t much older than Joshua, and you’re my age.”
Shit. Val had forgotten about that. “Yeah, but it’s different. You two just fit.” Joshua had fallen head over heels for Frank from the moment they’d met. He’d then made it his mission to show Frank they were meant for each other.
“What about King and Leo? Red and Laz?”
Val peered at Frank. “I’m sensing a pattern here.”
Frank laughed. “Fuck off. Listen, when it works, it works. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Joshua is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was an asshole for trying to push him away because of my insecurities.”
“You’re missing one key factor,” Val said.
“I know you’re not about to say that Saint is straight. Because you and I both know he is not straight. It’s also not his age, so what is it?”
His friend was right. Val was grasping at straws, thinking up excuses that had nothing to do with the real reason he kept his distance. “I don’t want to be his first.”
Frank sighed. “I get it. But you need to ask yourself, are you prepared for someone else to be his first?”
“What?”
Frank motioned behind Val, and Val couldn’t stop himself from looking. He cursed under his breath while a host of emotions flooded through him. Anger. Concern. Jealousy. Annoyance. Anger again.
Some guy had his hands—and mouth—all over Saint as he led him toward the heavy black curtains. It wasn’t like Saint didn’t know what went on back there. He’d worked jobs at the club plenty of times and had clients who used the backrooms.
Jaw clenched, Val turned back to Frank. “Not my problem. He’s a big boy.
He can look after himself and make his own decisions.
” Though it annoyed the fuck out of him that Saint had found himself a guy who looked to be around Val’s age and who suspiciously resembled Val, just with more salt and pepper.
Not that he blamed Saint. The guy was free to do whatever the hell he wanted.
“True,” Frank said. “Though if a friend of mine were not thinking straight—no pun intended—and might be about to do something he’d regret, I would feel obligated to at least say something.”