Savage parked his truck and cut the engine. “Listen, man,” he sighed, “if you changed your mind about all of this, I’d get it.”
Bowie smiled at Savage and reached across the center console to take his hand. “You keep saying that, Savage. But, I haven’t changed my mind—about the beer or you. I’d like to hang out with you tonight, no pressure and no strings. You up for that?” Savage nodded, and if Bowie wasn’t mistaken, he could have sworn the big guy was blushing.
“I’d like that,” he said. Savage grabbed his baseball cap from the back seat and covered his bald head, running his hand down his beard, and Bowie couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the guy. He was hot as fuck, and Bowie was mesmerized by his every movement. He had been for weeks, following him around, watching him on base for weeks. Savage was big but carried himself with confidence and grace. He had a persona that screamed alpha, and that alone turned Bowie completely the fuck on. He liked older men because the few he had been with usually insisted on being in charge in the bedroom. He wondered if Savage would be just as demanding, and the thought sent a shiver down his body.
“You good?” Savage asked. Bowie shook his head and smiled.
“No, but it’s nothing a few beers won’t fix,” Bowie lied. He had a feeling it would take more than alcohol to right what had been bothering him. In fact, Bowie had a sneaky feeling it would take at least a night of taking orders from the sexy man sitting next to him to start feeling like himself again.
SAVAGE
Savage felt about ready to turn back around and leave just as soon as he saw his ex sitting at the bar with her girlfriends. Apparently, one of them was about to get hitched, and Dallas was there to help her celebrate. At least, that was what he had gathered from the group of rowdy women.
“Shit,” he grumbled and sat down next to Bowie. He looked down at the end of the bar to where Dallas mean-mugged him and had the nerve to laugh.
“I’d say ‘shit’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, judging from the way that blonde is scowling at you, man. What did you do?” Bowie asked. That really was a loaded question. It was more like what he didn’t do that was the problem. She was the only woman that Savage dated more than just a few times. Hell, she was the only person he had any kind of relationship with in his entire adult life. And, he fucked it completely up with her. He ghosted Dallas when he realized he wasn’t going to be able to commit to her. She’d never be enough for him, and how did he admit something like that to her? It was easier to just walk away from her andhope that Dallas would just forget about him. Her angry scowl told him that it hadn’t happened yet.
“We dated,” Savage admitted. “About a year ago.”
“Wow,” Bowie whistled under his breath. “So, whatever you did to that woman must have been big, if she hasn’t forgiven you in a year.”
“I didn’t ask for forgiveness,” Savage growled. “And, I’m not looking for it now.”
“Well, I didn’t have you pegged as the dating type,” Bowiesaid. Savage held up two fingers to the bartender, signaling that he wanted a couple of beers. The bar really didn’t offer much in the way of choices, and he was one of the regulars on nights after he had a rough day at work and didn’t want to deal with his MC brothers asking him a million questions. At the Voodoo Lounge, he could just be himself, and no one really bothered him.
The bartender brought them their beers and a bowl of pretzels that looked like they had been set out for a few weeks. “Hey, Savage,” the bartender said.
“Mike.” Savage nodded. “Start me a tab,” he ordered.
“Sure thing,” Mike agreed and nodded to Bowie.
“You new here?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Bowie said. “New to the area, really. I’m at Redstone Arsenal.” Mike grunted, and Bowie smiled.
“Well, women around these parts seem to burst into flames around guys in uniform. Just watch yourself with the piranhas at the end of the bar. One of the chicks is getting married, but they seem to be out for a good time. Just a fair warning; unless you’relooking for something like that.” Mike looked between Bowie and Savage as if trying to assess what was going on between the two of them, and Savage growled.
“Thanks, Mike,” he barked, all but dismissing the guy. Bowie laughed again, and he wondered what was so funny, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t like Bowie’s answer. So, he didn’t bother asking.
“Are you always so grumbly?” Bowie accused.
“No,” Savage quickly defended, shooting him a look that probably told him he was lying. Bowie held up his hands as if in defense.
“Okay, man,” he said. “No need to bite my head off. If you want to go somewhere else, we can. Hell, we can go back to my apartment. I have beer there.” Bowie shot him a wolfish grin, making Savage smile.
“I’m good here,” Savage lied. He could feel Dallas’ eyes boring into the back of his head, and he wasn’t sure what the hell to do about her.
“Liar,” Bowie challenged. “That sexy blonde has you squirming in your seat. It’s hot, really—the thought of you with her. I just don’t want to cause any trouble. Does she know?”
“Know what?” Savage asked, playing dumb.
Bowie sighed. “Does she know that you date guys?” he whispered.
“No,” Savage breathed. He sucked down half his beer and shot a look across the bar to where Dallas was still giving him the stink-eye.
“You ghost her or something?” Bowie teased, and Savaged winced. “Fuck, man,” Bowie spat. “You didn’t fucking ghost that hot woman sitting at the end of the bar?”
“I did, and can you keep it down, man?” Savage said.
