An evil grin tugged at the corners of Shayne’s mouth. It must’ve been wickeder than he realized. When he focused on Grady,the man cast a nervous glance around the room. “Okay,” Shayne said, drawing out the word. “I’ll go with you to Plethora tonight under two conditions. First, you have to change. Seriously. If you’re wearing your uniform, I’ll have to find a hardhat. Poor Henley will have to hunt down a headdress, and, well, you know how that’ll look.”
A slow smile spread across Grady’s face. “Change clothes. Check.”
“Then you’ll have to swing by Ochsner Baptist. I didn’t get to tell Lincoln goodnight.”
4
Plethora wasn’t anywhere near as bad as Grady suspected. Of course, the night was young. At least that’s what Henley kept telling him. Even though Grady wasn’t sure how anyone could consider eleven early, but he wasn’t really the partying type. If a woman caught his interest, numbers were exchanged, and he had them out of his system by the end of the night. As far as he was concerned the whole club scene was something a man did in his twenties. Once he’d hit thirty, Grady refused to be seen as one of those skeevy guys who hung out with people ten years younger, hoping to cling to their youth and alcoholism. Yep. Grady much preferred going home to an empty apartment to drink like a grown ass man. No witnesses.
As promised, Grady stopped by the hospital on the way. Shayne had been in and out inunder ten minutes. The happiness shining in the man’s eyes said he’d made those minutes count. That was good. Shayne deserved something positive in his life. On the drive across town, Henley and Shayne took turns asking Grady if he really wanted to do this. They didn’t understand. To be fair, neither did Grady. All he knew was he couldn’t back down.
The instant they stepped inside the club, Henley spotted some people he knew at a table near the stage. Grady followed in the other man’s footsteps, trying not walk on the backs of his heels as he searched every face, hoping to spot a set of mismatched eyes. Multi-colored lights dangled from the ceiling, casting their glow across the wooden floors and tables before shining brightly upon the stage, and reminding Grady of every club in the history of ever. The band was different. Hardcore rockfilled the air, but it came from unusual instruments. There was a guy covered in tattoos playing the cello. It was awesome. Grady was fascinated. He couldn’t stop watching the man play. His bow was in shreds and his hands moved almost too fast to see. Truly. It was badass.
Henley drew up short, forcing Grady and Shayne to do the same. Since it was too loud for conversation, Henley waved him toward an empty seat at the table. As he claimed the chair, he dipped his chin at the three men already seated around the table. Two of the men were obviously together. Their chairs were touching, leaving no light between their bodies. They were opposites in every way. One was blond-haired and blue eyed while the other had dark hair with brown eyes. It seemed the pair should clash, but they didn’t. They looked content and at ease with one another.Grady was willing to bet good money they’d known one another their entire lives. The brown-haired guy was the first to introduce himself. Leaning closer, he yelled to be heard over the crowd.
“I’m Maddox.” He held out his hand and Grady accepted.
“Grady.”
Maddox flashed a quick grin before motioning toward the man tucked beneath his arm. “This is Joss.” Grady dipped his chin again, and Joss returned the gesture. Maddox waved toward the opposite end of the table to the man sitting alone. He was in a wheelchair, Grady realized for the first time.
“That’s Austen.”
Everything about the man screamed military. Grady reached across the table, offering his hand. “Grady.” The moment the yelled word left his lips, the music fell silent, makinghis name sound twice as loud as he’d intended. Laughter shone in the other man’s eyes as he accepted Grady’s outstretched hand. Grady winced. “I didn’t mean to scream in your face like that.” Austen released his hand, but was still smiling as he waved away Grady’s discomfort. “You can blame my husband for that. He’ll be here in a few seconds, racing to my rescue.”
Confusion tried to rear its head, but as if he’d been waiting for his cue, the red-haired man who’d held Grady captivated with his wicked cello playing, appeared at Austen’s side. Ignoring everyone else at the table, and proving Austen’s claim, the man kissed Austen before turning his attention their way. Going by Austen’s smile, the man was biting back his laughter as he introduced the new arrival. “Finn this is Grady. Grady, this is my husband, Finn.”
Finn eyed him closely as they shook hands. “Are you lost?”
Grady’s eyebrows rose at Finn’s question. He didn’t think the guy was trying to be rude. More than anything, it was an odd inquiry. Grady couldn’t see any difference between himself and the other occupants of the club. Yet, somehow, Finn knew he didn’t fit the scene. The spot between his shoulders itched, making him wonder if someone had slapped a “straight” sign on his back as he’d walked through the door.
Henley came to his rescue. “He’s with us. The three of us grew up together,” he added, motioning between Grady, Shayne, and himself.
Shayne nodded. “Best friends since the third grade. Of course, this is the first time we’ve convinced him to come here.”
Finn nodded as he dragged his chair closerto Austen’s. Once he settled in with his arm draped across the back of Austen’s chair, he focused on Grady once more. “And now that you’re here, what do you think of the place?”
The tension in Grady’s shoulders eased at Finn’s question. While it was obvious Finn was merely making conversation, it went further toward calming Grady’s nerves than any lecture he’d given himself on the drive over here. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable as much as he felt out of place. It loosened his tongue.
“I think you’re scary talented. Seriously,” he added when Finn blushed and looked away. “I’ve never seen anyone play the way you do. That was amazing. I’d love to have your skill.”
Henley chuckled, drawing everyone’s gaze his way. “Once when we were teenagers, Grady tried to teach himself how to play guitar because he thought it would impress this chickhe was crushing on.”
Heat crept up the back of Grady’s neck at the memory. “It was catastrophic,” he admitted, stealing Henley’s chance to tell everyone exactly how disastrous it had been.
“Somehow I find that hard to believe.” The familiar English accent rolled down Grady’s spine, before circling his stomach, and making him go hard. Every eye at the table focused on a spot over Grady’s shoulder. Grady sent up a silent prayer for strength before turning his head and focusing on Ryker.
Fuck me. The smirk hovering on Ryker’s perfect lips made Grady wonder if he’d accidentally spoken aloud. When no one called him on it, he blew out a sigh of relief. Ryker’s presence alone was enough to fuck with Grady’s head and then the accent hit him. Grady was done for. No matter his discomfort, Grady couldn’t stop staring at Ryker’s eyes.One was green, and the other was blue. That oddity mixed with his perfect angles made it almost impossible for Grady to tear his gaze away.
“You find what hard to believe?” Maddox asked, saving Grady. For real, he had no fucking clue what they were talking about. He’s mind had stopped processing signals at the first sight of Ryker. His mismatched eyes flickered in Maddox’s direction for half a second before focusing on Grady. “I can’t imagine you being bad at anything, Cop.”
“It’s Grady,” Grady said, reminding Ryker of his name.
Ryker’s smirk kicked up a notch. His eyes flashed with mischief. “This is the one place on earth, I can honestly say I never expected to run into you,” he paused, flashing a sexy smile, before adding, “Cop.”
Ryker’s devilry fed his. He turned in hischair and focused all of his attention on Ryker. “I heard the scenery here couldn’t be beat. How was I supposed to turn down such a thing?”
Henley fell into a coughing fit beside him.
