“Ready to go?” Ronan bounced on his toes. Today the man was a ball of nervous energy.
“At your service. Where to now?” I pulled my sunglasses down as we stepped out of the bank.
“Let’s walk. I’m used to working out and haven’t been exercising as much as I’d like. I keep meaning to, but end up sleeping late and feeling lazy.”
“You should join me for my morning run.” The words tumbled out before I had a chance to think. So not a good idea, but it was too late, as a smile lit up Ronan’s face.
“That would be cool.”
“Okay, then. I go at six. You’re usually asleep.”
His eyes widened, and I figured he’d back out, given the early hour. In the time I’d been with him, he rarely ventured out of his room prior to ten in the morning. But instead, he said, “Sounds good. I’m used to getting up at the crack of dawn. Prison hours and all that.”
We’d walked down 23rd and stopped at Ninth Avenue. Ronan checked his phone. “I’m hungry. How about we get some lunch?”
“You don’t have to ask me. I’m here for you. Wherever you want to go, I’ll be there.”
“Okay. Let’s go to Mexicue. I could use a tequila.”
The restaurant was cramped and bustling, but they seated us at a table in the corner. My knees overlapped with Ronan’s, but there was little I could do about it. The server came right over with water and took our drink order.
“Tequila and soda for me. Gabriel?” Ronan asked.
“I’m fine with the water.” I shrugged at his scowl. “I’m working.”
“Whatever. What do you want to eat?” But before I had a chance to answer, he pointed. “Let’s do the do-it-yourself taco platter, the poblano mac and cheese, chips, salsa, and guac, of course.”
I normally didn’t like when people ordered for me, but Ronan was a bit of a whirlwind, and I was more amused than annoyed. “How about some street corn too?” I joked. “And the nachos. I’m not sure we’ll have enough.”
Ronan’s brows drew together. “Yeah, that sounds good too. Add that on.”
The server nodded and left us as I gaped at Ronan.
“Damn. You know I was kidding. There’s no way we can finish all that.”
“Listen.” He gulped his water. “I spent years behind prison bars, dreaming of all the food I missed—pizza, tacos, sushi, pasta. I want it all. And whatever we can’t finish, we’ll take home.”
Who was I to deny him? I was pretty ravenous myself, and when the platter of nachos, chips, and guac was set between us, I had no problem digging in and making a pig of myself.
After we’d depleted that ungodly amount of food, we took a breather. Ronan was on his second tequila and chatty. “Tell me a little more about why you became a bodyguard. How come you left the police department? I thought people stayed there forever and left with great pensions.”
“Many do. But as a gay cop, I didn’t feel as supported as I wanted to be by the higher-ups. It was a lot of talk about unity, and love is love, but when things happened, like snide comments or crude jokes, they tended to brush them aside. After five years, I’d had enough.”
“Huh.” Ronan shoved more nachos in his mouth and sipped the final dregs of his tequila and soda. “That sucks. Any siblings?”
“Nope. Just me. My mother didn’t begin dating again until I was in my twenties. My father leaving really did a number on her self-esteem, especially when we found out he’d started a whole new and improved family.”
“I can’t imagine. Losing my parents was the single worst thing to happen to me.” He finished his tequila and signaled for another.
“You have a sister, though, right?”
The server set his drink down, and two others came behind her, one with the huge platter of do-it-yourself tacos, the other with the street corn and mac and cheese. Incredibly, I was still hungry, and reached for a tortilla to fill. Ronan continued to stare into space.
“Yeah. She’s younger. Cassie had some health issues growing up, so our parents tended to baby her, and I’d help her with everything. She was eighteen when they died, and after that, the two of us were all the family we had left.”
“So what you’re saying is that she was spoiled?”
I could see he struggled with revealing a truth that might paint her in a negative light, both to me and against the image of her he’d probably lived with most of his life. He finished his drink with a quick flip of his wrist, and I was already thinking ahead as to how to get him home in one piece because he was plowing through the drinks like they were plain club soda.
