I also don’t want to hurt Kane, who also feels natural to be around. Though I don’t have a commitment to him, he isn’t a random hookup to me, and I don’t want to do anything to give him that impression. Turning down any advances could have that effect, and based on past experience, he’ll probably make an advance if I don’t.
Somehow, I have to get through dinner without hurting either of them.
From my perch on the barstool at Murphy’s on Main—the new name since Lennon’s planning to open a second location on the mountain—I see Kane the moment he steps inside. It’s a busy night here—it always is during the summer tourist season—but his pink hair and bright smile make him stand out. It’s both cute and hot at the same time, making my stomach do a little flip.Dammit.
How should I play this? Professional? Familiar? Smartass? What’s the protocol for hanging out with your boss who you slept with and have to keep at arm’s length even though you genuinely like him and maybe still want him a little? I went for professional earlier since we were talking about work, but I might’ve been sort of flirty to ease the tension. And I think I veered toward rude when he asked about dinner. I hardly remember at this point since my primary goal was not losing my shit. It still is.
Seriously, what are the odds?
Kane spots me waving at the end of the bar and weaves his way through the crowd, heaving a sigh of relief as he takes the seat next to me. “Popular place.” His eyes are wide as he takes in the hum of activity.
“Best food in town. I usually try to avoid the dinner rush, but my boss had me lining up all sorts of people for this big project we’ve got going on, so I got stuck working late.” I give him a little side eye as I sip my beer, hoping smartass is the right angle.
“Your boss sounds like a tyrant.” Relief flows into my lungs as he matches my banter without any hesitation.
“Oh, he is. I mean, who makes you stay after five? Even if you’re excited about the project and working on deadlines, five is thecutoff.” I flag Lennon over before turning to look at Kane, who’s grinning from ear to ear. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Um, a beer is fine.”
“With that hair?” A deep voice rumbles from behind him. “No way, you need a—”
“Not another word, Deacon.” I interrupt my very inappropriate friend before he can finish. “This is my boss. We don’t play dirty drinks with him.”
“Yeah, save the dirty drinks for The Underground. Murphy’s is a family place.” Lennon rolls his eyes at Deacon then wipes his hand on his apron and extends it to Kane. “The boss, huh? You’ll fit right in. I’m Lennon. This not-so-suave idiot is Deacon.” He grins salaciously and holds his hand out as well.
“Kane.” He shakes both their hands. “Why will I fit in?” His eyes dart between me, Lennon, and Deacon.
“If I’m not mistaken those are bike shorts you’re wearing, and people around here love to spend time on a bike.”
“In other words, you’re a badass.” Deacon hovers near his ear. I shoot him a warning glare that he pretends not to notice, which has me quickly burying my face in my beer.
There’s a decent chance that look won’t register as anything other than me warning a known playboy to stay away from my new boss. And if Deacon isn’t already thinking that, I can sell it. What I’m less sure about is why it’sDeaconwho needed the warning in the first place.
I’ve only ever known the guy to pick up women, but maybe that’s just easier in this town and he’s really a switch hitter like his cousin, Cade. If that’s the case, I can’t fault him for being attracted to Kane’s slightly delicate features since they really are stunning against his leanly muscled frame.
Whoa Blake, do you hear yourself?
This is probably just a case of Deacon being an obnoxious flirt, regardless of who he’s talking to. I’m just seeing things, probably because I’m sitting next to a man I’m attracted to but who isn’t my secret boyfriend.
“What does that make me?” I snap back to the present and find Beck standing next to Lennon with a full pout on his lip. Since you’re more likely to find him in a dance studio than on the trail, he must be feeling left out.
“My trusty sidekick and also a badass,” Lennon slings an arm around his shoulders and introduces him to Kane.
“And the dirty drink names?” Kane searches our faces for a hint.
Lennon puts a beer on the counter and points a finger at Deacon. “Be nice. And no dirty drinks in front of Beck. I don’t need that headache.”
As soon as he’s out of earshot, Beck leans toward Kane so he doesn’t have to shout. “It’s a bar game where the guys string a bunch of dirty drink names together in a sentence. They use it to find someone to warm their beds.”
“Does that work?” Kane wrinkles his nose.
“Let’s just say this one has been around the world—” he jerks his thumb toward Deacon “—without leaving Katah Vista.”
“Beck.” Deacon puts a hand over his heart. “Don’t sell me short. I’ve been around the world at least twice.”
We all know he’s exaggerating, but for a second I swear Beck flinches. Then it’s gone and his typical smile is back as he addresses Kane. “Deacon has a medical condition that gives him Blue Balls if he isn’t Balls Deep in a Tight Snatch bringing Death to a Virgin at least five days a week. Was that better?” He blinks innocently at Deacon, whose jaw is hanging open.
“Four drinks. Nice.” I give Beck a fist bump before he strides off, then turn to look at my burned friend over Kane’s head. “Andthatis why Lennon doesn’t want us playing dirty drinks in front of him. He’s gonna take your title soon.”
