“Hi.” He leaned on the bar. “Can I have my usual?”
“He’s talking to me. Wait your turn.”
Carter flicked his gaze over the man as if he were nothing more than an annoying fly. “I wasn’t speaking to you; I was talking to Reed.” He turned his attention back to Reed who hadn’t moved and stood staring at him, white-faced and trembling. “I really want to talk to you. Can we…later?”
“Wha-what are you doing here?” Reed gulped out his words. His hands nervously played through the thick strands of his hair, and Carter wanted to bury his fingers in those curls.
Fuck, he had it bad.
“Things have…changed, and I needed to see you.” By this time the other guy had lost interest and walked away with his drink. “I have tonight free and tomorrow too.”
“So you came here thinking I’ll go to bed with you because you made time for me one night?” Reed’s mouth was set in a stubborn line, and a muscle ticked beneath the fine stubble covering his jawline. Carter recalled its roughness against his stomach, the hot, wet suction of Reed’s mouth sliding up and down his cock, and his hunger for Reed had Carter throbbing painfully in his jeans. He discreetly pressed the heel of his hand against the zipper, welcoming the painful yet arousing burst of pleasure.
“No, I’ve been thinking about what you said in my office, and you were right.”
Never one to make it easy for him, Reed crossed his arms and widened his stance. “Go on. I don’t have all night. I have work to do.”
The other bartender glanced their way, frazzled by the crowd. Carter didn’t wish for either Reed or the other man to get in trouble. “I’d rather talk to you alone, so if you want, I’ll wait for your shift to finish.”
“Uh, yeah, that would be best. I get off at one.”
“I have no other plans.”
With a troubled glance, Reed went back to serving the people while Carter stayed at the bar, sipping the drink Reed eventually placed in front of him. Carter spoke to no one and nibbled at the dish of peanuts and pretzels to stave off his hunger. With all the excitement over Jacks’s first sleepover, he’d forgotten to eat dinner himself. He wondered if he could order something at the bar.
“What is it? You look pained.”
Reed stood in front of him. Funny how certain qualities of Jacks’s reminded him of Reed; how whenever Reed was in his arms Carter had an overwhelming need to protect him. Maybe it was a sign of how much he’d come to care about Reed without even realizing it.
“I, uh, didn’t eat dinner, and I’m a little hungry.”
“I can have the kitchen get you something; how about some sliders or chicken wings?”
“Sounds good; whatever. I appreciate it.”
Reed placed the order on the computerized screen, then hurried to the other side of the bar to serve more customers. After several minutes nursing his drink, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Are you waiting to get served?”
The man looked close to sixty, with gray streaking the dark curls of his neatly trimmed hair. His weathered face bore a friendly smile, and laugh lines fanned out from his amber eyes. Something about his face and build reminded Carter of Reed, and he wondered if they were related.
“Yes, I ordered some food.”
“They have great bar food here. I hope you tried the chicken wings.” He sidled in next to Carter and leaned his hip against the wide wooden railing.
“I think I did. The bartender is a friend and ordered me a plate.”
The man slanted a look down the bar, then focused back on him. Carter finished his drink and played with the edge of the glass, wishing Reed could get off early but understanding why with this crowd he couldn’t shirk his responsibilities. That solid work ethic was one of the things he admired most about him.
“Clay or Reed?”
“Pardon me?” He squinted at the man’s face.
“Are you friends with Clay or Reed?”
“Uh, Reed. Do you know him?”
The man smiled. “I do. He’s my son.”
