“Frankie. Come and give me a kiss.”
“Gimme a dance, Frankie.”
“I love you, Frankie.”
That last shout-out grabbed my attention, and I craned my neck to see who yelled that. Asking for a dance was one thing, but “I love you” didn’t sit right in my gut.
“Yeah, some guys say they love us. Crazy, huh?” Austin’s lips thinned in anger. “Like people think ’cause we dance and show our asses that they know us. And love us.” He snorted and crunched the ice of his drink. “That’s a joke. They don’t even know our last names. Or if these are even our real names. It’s all a fantasy.”
Rhoades leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Don’t get upset. No one is forcing anyone to do anything. James wouldn’t allow it.”
“Was that a compliment from my big brother? I’m overwhelmed.”
James joined us at the table and poured himself a drink from Rhoades’s bottle. Their family connection came as a surprise to me. Rhoades was dark while James was blond, although both had that same quiet intensity about them.
“Oh, James. It was going along so swimmingly.” Rhoades tipped his glass to his brother, who allowed himself a smile. Frankie had told me Rhoades was raised in England, which explained his slight accent and overall reserve. Except with Austin. Whenever their eyes met, their combined sparks could light a room on fire.
“Nice to see you back, Aaron. Everything going well?” James turned his penetrating gaze on me. “I’m presuming yes—as you’re upright and Austin isn’t bloody.”
We all laughed, although I wasn’t so sure how much of a joke it truly was.
“I’m here to see Frankie and support him.”
“Good,” James said approvingly. “It’s important for one partner to support the other.”
“James Rutledge, relationship expert.” Rhoades grinned over his tumbler of scotch. “Who would believe it?”
Once again, the table of us broke out in laughter, although James’s smile stretched thin and didn’t reach his eyes.
“Stop, please.” I heard Frankie’s voice in the distance and jerked around to see an older man in a suit with his hand grasping Frankie’s wrist. Tight. And Frankie trying to pull away without success. I stood, my chair tipping backward, and I started forward, only to have my own arm grabbed by James in a surprising show of strength.
“Don’t. Don’t throw away everything you’ve worked on. Do you think I’ll let it get far enough for Frankie to get hurt? Watch and see if Frankie can handle it.”
The rage subsided, yet I didn’t sit down. I shook off James’s hand and walked closer to the table of men, my eyes fixed on Frankie.
“Yeah, George. Show’m who’s boss.”
“Spank that ass, Daddy.”
George yanked Frankie close and made a grab for his ass. To hell with James. I opened my mouth to roar, but Frankie had his own method of dealing with pigs like that.
“No one’s the boss of me. Got it?” He brought his knee up and stomped down on George’s foot while reaching out, grabbing his crotch, and twisting.
“Owwww.”George howled in pain and let go of Frankie, who stood grim-faced, his chest heaving. “What the fuck was that about?”
He sank down to the velvet bench, clutching his junk while at the same time trying to rub his foot. I inched closer, ready to pounce, in case he decided to retaliate.
“I’m not here for you to manhandle. I’m here to put on a show. If I give you permission”—Frankie stopped and glared—“then you can touch me. Got it?” He waited, and when he received no response, he raised his voice. “I asked, ‘Got it?’ ’Cause if not, Hector here will be happy to kick your sorry asses to the curb.”
It was then I spied the burly bouncer standing behind Frankie, powerful arms crossed, issuing a death glare. Knowing Frankie wasn’t ever truly in danger eased my anger, but I stayed put.
“I don’t think an answer will be necessary, Frankie.” James’s sardonic voice cut deeper than any yelling might’ve. “These men will be leaving. Immediately.”
“Now wait a minute. We paid our admission.”
“And with that admission comes the agreement to act properly. Not grab my employees and treat them like playthings. You’re here to drink and be entertained.Notto touch and certainly not to assault anyone.”
“I didn’t,” George blustered. “He wanted it. They all do. Everyone knows that when you come to a place like this.”
