“Screw you. C’mon. Let’s go inside and grab a table.”
He turned away from his friends and left them. Jake’s long strides kept up with him, and as Shea pulled open the door, his ears were assaulted by the music and the crowd. He searched for a table and pointed to Jake. “Go on and grab that one over there, see it?” At Jake’s nod, Shea asked, “What’re you drinkin’? I’ll get it from the bar.”
“Jameson would be good. On the rocks.” Jake reached for his wallet, to which Shea shook his head.
“No, sir. Put your wallet away.”
Jake frowned. “I’ll get the next one.”
Shea pointed again. “What you better get is that table, ’fore someone else steals it out from under you.” He watched as Jake wove his way through the crowd and sat at the small wooden table for two by the wall, then pivoted, anxiously scanning the bar. He breathed a sigh of relief to see Dusty serving and not Toby.
“Dusty, gimme a double Jameson on the rocks and a bottle of Shiner Bock.”
The man pulled down the Jameson with one hand while scooping up ice in a tumbler glass with the other.
“Double-fistin’ it even after last night? Damn, man. I didn’t think you drank this stuff.”
“I usually don’t. It’s for the guy I came with.”
Dusty hit him with a sharp side-eye but said nothing until he placed the drinks on the bar. “Y’all aimin’ for a catfight?”
Shea cocked a brow as he fished his wallet out of his jeans. “What’re you talkin’ ’bout?”
“You bringin’ a date here when you know Toby’s still pinin’ after you. Ain’t nice, Shea.”
The last thing he needed was to be scolded. “Look. I know you’re mad at me ’cause you think I led him on, and I get that; you’re his brother. But it wasn’t my fault. I told him from the beginning it was never gonna be nothin’ more than friends with benefits. If he felt somethin’ more, I couldn’t help it.”
“Well, you sure as hell coulda helped getting piss-assed drunk last night and kissin’ him.”
“I know, and for that I’m rightly sorry. And I did apologize to him. It was a year since my daddy died, an’…” He shrugged.
Dusty’s angry eyes softened. “You gotta believe your daddy knew you were never gonna stay here. We all do. It ain’t no secret.”
As always when he thought of his father, Shea struggled not to slide into the suffocating grief. “I dunno. I can’t talk about it right now.” He pushed his hat off his brow. “And as for this guy, he ain’t a date. He’s a ranch guest who came in too late for a meal, and I’m helpin’ him out by gettin’ him a bite to eat.”
“Yeah? Listen, Shea, don’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s rainin’. The only bite that guy wants to take is outta you.”
“You’re crazy.” He tossed a twenty on the bar. “There. Keep the change.” He turned away before Dusty could answer, and carried the drinks to the table, nodding his hellos to everyone he knew. Contrary to what Dusty believed, Jake wasn’t staring at him, but rather at the band taking their break. And Shea knew why. Martina, the lead singer, was hot as hell with her curves on display in a skintight bikini top and cow-print shorts. Her shining black curls bounced over her exposed brown shoulders, and her expressive hands waved in the air as she laughed and joked with the customers.
“Here ya go. Jameson on the rocks.” Shea sat across the table from Jake with his bottle of beer. “They’re a good cover band. If you like pop-country.”
Jake shrugged. “I don’t get a chance to listen to much music, so I probably wouldn’t recognize anything they sing.” He lifted his glass. “Cheers.” Shea watched the strong cords of Jake’s neck as he drained half the drink, and felt the familiar stirring of lust.
Don’t be a damn fool. He’s a guest. A straight, married guest.
“You want to order somethin’ to eat? It ain’t fancy New York City food, but they make a damn good burger. Or maybe you’d rather have some Texan barbecue.”
A sweetly crooked smile tilted Jake’s lips as he took another hefty swallow of whiskey. “Mmm. They both sound delicious. I’ll let you choose. I’m so hungry, I could chew this table.” He stretched out, giving Shea a bird’s-eye view of long legs encased in snug black suit pants. Jake drained his glass. “Damn, that was good.”
“You look like you needed it. Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you get to the ranch in one piece, so relax a little and let yourself go.” Shea vowed to keep it to the one beer so as to be able to drive home with no issue. “Lemme call over the waitress.”
He waved his hand, and a young woman appeared. She wore a white, crop-top T-shirt that showed off a smooth, tan stomach, tight jean shorts, and white cowboy boots. Big brown eyes lit up as she approached.
“Brandi, honey. Bring my friend here a burger and fries, coleslaw on the side. I’ll have the barbecue platter, and let’s get some wings for both of us.”
She gave Jake a friendly smile, which he returned. “Well, hell-oo. Shea, is he one of your model friends?” She flicked her silky blonde hair over her shoulders. “Sure is cute.”
Shea chuckled. “Sorry, Brandi. Man’s taken. And bring him another Jameson on the rocks.”
