Blue Moon: Too Good to Be True (8 page)

It was Thursday night and he was off for the next two days. He was lazily laying on his tan micro suede barcalounger, with one hand scratching his balls and the other hand flipping channels with the remote.
No reason to stay
inside twiddling my thumbs. Maybe Ryke will want to go catch a movie tonight. Shit, no
he won’t because he has a date. Fuck.
Max pried himself off the couch and headed toward his bedroom to get dressed, thinking he might stop by a pool hall or something to kill some time…but, in his heart of hearts, he knew exactly where he was headed.
I think I feel more like having a drink tonight, hope I can find
a nice club.

Happy hour was just getting into full swing, and Angel was behind the bar talking with Sam about hiring two new bartenders for the second level.

Sam was the bar manager and wasn’t required to actually serve drinks to the customers, but he did it anyway. He went to classes all the time where he learned bartender flair tricks. He liked to try them out every now and then on the customers. He was really good, and even entered a few competitions. He never placed, but he still got a thrill from it, and Angel completely supported him.

“So, boss, I say hire that kid that’s still in college working on his bachelor’s in English Lit,” Sam suggested.

Angel let out a throaty laugh when he saw the pink flush on his manager’s cheeks. “He has no experience, Sam, why would I want to hire him?”

“Umm, well…I was just thinking that, you know, he kind of looked like your type. Being all small and cute,” Sam sputtered nervously. His soft brown eyes never made direct contact with Angel’s dark ones. “He also…uhh…he sort of mentioned that he thought you looked really hot…and—” Sam wrung his long, slender fingers together with anxiety.

Angel’s usually calm face turned into a scowl as he interrupted Sam’s fumbling. “That guy said that at a job interview. That he thought I was hot.

Don’t you find that a little disturbing?” He watched Sam turn a shade of crimson as he nodded and cast his eyes down at the bar. “Tell me…did he also put on the application, ‘willing to fuck for pay?’ Hell Sam, if that’s the type of people we’re employing now maybe we can start a small pimping business too,” Angel growled.

He saw that Sam was starting to squirm under Angel’s direct gaze, so he decided to lighten up on him. He knew Sam had good intentions, hell they all had good intentions, his family just wanted to see Angel happy and settled down. After the fiasco with that weirdo John Meyers on the Fourth of July, he could tell some of his staff felt sorry for his recent bad luck with men.

Angel didn’t really talk about his love life to his entire staff, but Jazz and Sam were his best friends and the only family he had besides his father and uncles. Sam had been living with his partner for two years now after meeting him at the club. The attraction was instant. Everyone had enjoyed watching that relationship grow into what it had become. He often caught himself watching their exchanges, wishing he had the same good fortune.

“It’s okay, Sam, I know what you’re trying to do, both of you.” He turned and looked at Jazz, who was now listening in on the conversation and looking sheepish herself. She was just as guilty as Sam. They were both only interviewing hot gay guys, hoping Angel might be attracted to one. “When I meet that special someone, I’ll know it…okay? Just let me handle it …really…no more hookups, got it?” Angel stated firmly.

“I told you it was a stupid idea, Jazz. It was all her fault, Angel. I really didn’t want to do it,” Sam ratted out Jazz like they were both up for execution and only one would be granted a pardon.

“Et tu, Brute,” Jazz snarled at Sam. She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.

What the hel am I going to do with these two?
Angel let out an exasperated breath and shook his head. It was like Angel had two younger siblings that he was always refereeing or chastising for their ridiculous antics.

Then there were times when he had to be unyielding and put his foot down. He looked at them with a serious expression, letting them know that he’d meant what he said. Then he quirked up one side of his mouth soothing their hurt expressions and pulled them both into him. They went eagerly and he felt the love between them that they had for each other.

Angel couldn’t have asked for a more caring family. He laid a gentle kiss on Jazz’s neck, before turning to place a chaste kiss on Sam’s pouty lips.

When he pulled back, he looked up, and locked his gaze on the most gorgeous face in the world. On the opposite side of the bar stood ‘his man’…Maximus. Angel pulled his lips into a full smile, but it quickly fell away when he took in the angered expression on Max’s face.

What the hel ? Why is he looking at me like th—
Before Angel could finish the thought, it finally registered. He had just kissed another man on the mouth right in front of Max.
Fuck.
He saw Max spin around and head back toward the front entrance, completely ignoring Angel yelling out his name and calling for him to stop.
This cannot be happening like this.
Angel was drawing the attention of a few customers but he didn’t give a shit. There was no way that he could let Max leave, not with him thinking God knew what. Angel caught up to him as soon as he reached for the door handle, and he put his strong hand on Max’s shoulder to stop him from opening it. Max spun around and hissed low in Angel’s face. “Fuck off,” he spat.

“Max hold on please, it’s not want you think.” Angel knew he sounded like a damn soap opera, but he was trying to get his brain to send rational words for him to speak. However, his brain was still registering that Maximus was in his club dressed and looking like an Abercrombie & Fitch model and

he smelled like soap and the most alluring cologne. Max’s face was two inches from his, his blue-gray eyes looking like the sky after a storm.

“It’s not what I think, huh? Okay, if it’s not what I
think
, then I’ll tell you what I
know
.” Max stepped in even closer to Angel, which was crazy, since they were already nose to nose. “I know I just saw you kiss a woman on her neck as she rubbed her tits against you, and then you turned your head and tongued down some dude right there in front of everyone. Are y’all some type of swingers or something?” Max’s Southern accent sounded more pronounced since he was angry. “Well you can forget about recruiting me into y’alls kinky shit…I’m outta here.”

“Maximus, please, just listen for one second and you’ll see that that is not what’s going on here at all…please…just one second!” Angel yelled at Max, trying to be heard over the loud music the DJ was playing. Angel knew that he was begging in front of several spectators, who he was certain had never seen him chase down a man before. They just didn’t know that he was fighting for the man he knew he was destined to love for the rest of his life.

Max had come to him, to his club, had sought him out…he wasn’t letting him get away that easily. He didn’t give a rat’s ass what other people were thinking, because when he saw the hurt expression on Max’s beautiful face he wasn’t too proud to beg.

“Ten seconds,” Max growled. “Start talking.”

Max didn’t know why he was giving Angel a chance to explain. He knew what he’d seen with his own two eyes. What was even crazier was that Angel didn’t owe him any explanation at all, they weren’t even a couple. Just because they had shared a couple drinks in a pub, and foiled a robbery…that hardly meant they were in a relationship. However, Max couldn’t help but feel like he was owed something. This man had occupied his every waking thought during the day…and every damn dream he had at night, so the hell with relationship protocol.

Angel was looking so goddamn perfect with his hair loose and flowing down his strong back. His black slacks fit him like they were made specifically for his round ass and muscular thighs. The dark chocolate collared shirt’s top two buttons were undone and Max could see that Angel wasn’t a hairy man.
Thank God.
He looked into those dark pleading eyes and knew in his soul that Angel was getting ready to tell him the truth and nothing but the truth.
Shit, if he’s going to look at me like that anytime we have an
argument then I’m fucked.

Max was fucked any way he looked at it. He and Angel hadn’t even been on one date yet and already the passion and intensity shone around them like a royal blue aura. Immediately, Max began to feel exposed by the piercing eyes. He thought Angel must’ve have sensed his unease, because he asked him if they could talk some place a little more private.

Max followed Angel back through the club to the elevator adjacent from the restrooms. Max was more than conscious at the concerned expressions coming from Angel’s staff. He felt like he was an enemy that had breached their walls and was taking away their king as they watched them disappear around the corner.

Angel pressed the button for the elevator and waited for it to hum its way down to the lower level. They didn’t speak as they rode and got out on the third level. Again, Max was floored at scenery. He assumed this level was closed since the strobe lights and televisions were not on, but Max thought it made it very romantic with the moon providing their only light. Soft music played on the speakers, and he wondered how the hell he couldn’t hear the loud techno music that played on the floor just below them.

He noticed that Angel didn’t bother to turn on any lights, but went straight to the bar and began to fix them both a drink.

“I don’t want a fucking drink, Angel.”

Angel’s response was one raised eyebrow, as he proceeded to pull out two Glencairn whiskey glasses and pour two fingers full of Maker’s 46

bourbon. He walked over to Max confidently and pointed to one of the tables. “Can we sit please?”

He followed Angel as he led them to two plush chairs situated on the edge of the dimly lit dance floor. Max was brimming with irritation at the waiting game that Angel was obviously playing. He honed in on Angel’s mouth as the man took the eloquent glass and slowly brought it to his lips and took a small sip. He saw him grimace a little at the burn of the strong liquor. Max watched Angel sit and nurse his drink carelessly as if they were waiting in a restaurant lounge for their table to be ready.

Angel’s calm demeanor was really wearing thin on his nerves. If Angel didn’t start talking in the next two seconds then he was leaving. Right at that thought, Angel brought one booted foot up to rest on the opposite knee and spoke calmly.

“Maximus, the two people behind my bar are my best friends…my family. They have been here with me since I first opened Blue Moon’s doors four years ago. The women’s name is Jazz, she’s the server’s manager and she’s married to an FBI detective that I greatly respect. Most importantly Jazz has the wrong parts for me. I’m gay, not bi.

“The man you saw me kiss is Sam. He’s my bar manager. He and his partner, who was sitting at the bar, are one hundred percent exclusive. I can understand that to someone on the outside looking in, the gesture would appear a little intimate, but I assure you it’s far from that. Neither one of us have ever had those types of feelings for each other, we are like brothers and sister.

“Which, for the record, I was just fussing at them for butting in like siblings do and trying to find me a love interest. They are both so blissfully happy with their partners. It’s difficult for them to see me without someone sometimes, that’s all…but they mean well. That’s why I hugged them. I stopped having one-night conquests a while ago because it just wasn’t fulfilling anymore. Something very important is missing and they wanted to try to fill that void.” Angel stopped and chuckled a little. “Instead of interviewing for my new bartenders they were interviewing to find me a husband.”

Max knew all the blood had left his body and drained to his face, because it suddenly felt like it was on fire. He had made a complete fool of himself in

front of Angel’s family. If he would’ve just sat his ass down on the stool and waited five damn minutes Angel probably would’ve introduced him to them.

Of course he had to go off half-cocked and make Angel chase him and beg him to listen in his own fucking club. Max had required the man to swallow his pride…a man he didn’t even really know…yet. He was sure Angel wouldn’t want him now, since he’d acted like a jealous control freak. He had never behaved this way with any of the women he’d dated. How the hell could he do that to him?
What the hel is wrong with me?
Max may have to accept the fact that he might have just blown his chance with Angel, a chance he didn’t even know how much he’d wanted until now.
What should I fucking
say now?
Angel was patiently watching Max debate with himself while he drank his bourbon.

“Jesus Christ, Angel, I don’t know what the fuck to say, I am so sor—”

“You look gorgeous tonight, Maximus,” Angel smoothly interrupted.

Max looked down at his dark denim jeans and felt significantly underdressed compared to the company he was in. Max’s white and green collared polo shirt was not half as classy as Angel’s silk, dressy one.

Oh my God
. Angel was looking at him with so much heat and lust in his eyes that Max had to look away. He felt strong narrow fingers grip his chin gently and turn his face back to look into his eyes.

“Why did you come here tonight, Maximus?” Angel rolled the sentence off his tongue lustfully.

“I don’t know why,” Max whispered.

Max stood abruptly and walked over to the side railing facing the ocean.

He wasn’t comfortable with the way Angel was looking into him…not at him. It was dark out and he couldn’t see the water, but he could hear the waves crashing to the shore. He felt Angel come up behind him…very close behind him. Max had to admit that he loved that they were the same height.

He felt muscled arms come around his middle very slowly and rest in front of him. “Is this all right?” Angel whispered close to his ear.