Touch&Geaux (6 page)

from antique string lights overhead and sconces along the

walls that held real candles flickering within hurricane lamps.

Wax dripped onto the tables from many nights of lit candles

that had never been cleaned up.

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Zane let his eyes adjust to the dim light. He’d seen worse.

Better too. But also worse. “Wow, sweetie, you take me to the

nicest places,” he drawled.

Becky laughed and led him to a table near the middle

of the room. There was a folded card with the name Garrett

written on it in beautiful cal igraphy.

Zane pulled her chair out for her, then unbuttoned his

suit coat and sat.

She leaned toward him, the firelight flickering in her eyes.

“I heard the two performers are incredible. And the rumor

is that every Friday and Saturday night, they pick out people

from the audience to join them afterward.”

“Join them?”

“You know, join them.”

“Oh. Oh!” Zane laughed and looked around as Becky

giggled. “What have you gotten us into?”

“Oh come on, it’s just a rumor. It’ll be fun,” she said as she

slid her hand into his and scooted her chair closer so she could

settle against his shoulder.

A woman came to take their drink order just as a man

stepped up onto the stage and took the old-fashioned

microphone in his hand. The people around them began to

applaud, some of them even whistling and hooting.

Zane smiled and sat back, willing to try to enjoy the

evening for his wife’s sake. The man on stage wore an old-

fashioned suit and eyeliner, and his long hair was slicked back

to the point that the candlelight reflected off it. He held a

bowler hat in his hand, pressed to his chest. Zane cocked

his head as he admired the man. He had wide shoulders and

compact, hard muscles that showed through the thin, ruffled

shirt he wore.

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Becky whistled and began to laugh. “He’s pretty.”

Zane clucked his tongue, mentally echoing her.

The man welcomed them to a night of debauchery and

decadence, and almost immediately he began to pick people

out of the crowd and insult them. Zane was surprised at first,

but the packed audience was eating it up.

The man turned his attention on them with an appreciative

whistle. “Well hello, beautiful,” he said in a deep voice as he

took a few steps toward their table. “Where have you been all

my life? Where are you from, gorgeous?”

Becky laughed and sat forward. “Austin, Texas.”

“Yeah, wait your turn, honey, I’m talking to your

boyfriend.”

Becky cackled and covered her mouth with her hands,

looking at Zane as the audience laughed.

Zane felt himself blushing. He laughed and shook his

head, meeting the man’s eyes with a strange rush of excitement.

He realized he was enjoying the attention.

The man on stage gave him a rakish once over.

“Congratulations on your face, darlin’,” he said, and then

moved on, addressing a few other couples.

Zane watched him, his mouth ajar. He’d rarely experienced

even a passing interest in anyone but his wife. What was it

about this guy that had caught his eye?

It wasn’t long before a woman joined the man on stage.

They made an attractive couple, with talent and chemistry.

Their voices battled for supremacy at times, other times

melding together smooth as silk. They sang, told jokes, and

even performed some physical gags, almost like skits. And

some of the sexiest costumes Zane had ever seen. He wasn’t

watching the sensuous curves of the woman in her corset,

though, but rather the solid lines of the man’s shoulders as

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he moved. When he offered his rendition of “House of the

Rising Sun,” it raised the hairs on Zane’s arms. He couldn’t

look away.

For the last act of the show, the woman sang a rousing

patriotic burlesque number as the man weaved his way

through the crowd with his bowler hat, collecting tips from

the tables. He would clap along with the music as he moved

from table to table, egging people on and getting the crowd

involved. Zane’s eyes followed his movements. Over the last

hour of watching him, Zane had decided that he was definitely

attracted to the man. It didn’t strike him as odd, but it was

distracting enough that he had to sit and dwell on it.

When the performer approached their table, Zane’s heart

rate sped up. The man grinned at them, showing perfect teeth

to go with his handsome face. He held his hat out, and Zane

dug out a hundred dol ar bill and tossed it in, trying to get a

look at the guy’s eyes. He decided they were green.

The guy watched the bill flutter into his hat, then twirled

the hat around his hand and displayed the empty inside of

it to them, his expression scandalized as he discovered the

seemingly disappearing bill. Becky laughed and Zane grinned,

impressed with the man’s nimble fingers. The bill was nowhere

to be found.

He bowed, then plopped the hat on his head and gave

Zane a wink as he turned away.

Zane’s heart gave a skip and he cleared his throat, growing

more flustered and confused by his reaction.

Becky leaned closer, biting her lip on a smile. “I just want

you to know that if you ever wanted to hit that, I’d totally be

behind it if I could watch.”

“Oh my God,” Zane muttered, but he couldn’t help but

laugh.

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“You’re blushing!”

Zane laughed harder. “Let’s just go.”

“I told you it’d be fun,” she said as she grabbed for her

coat.They were standing from their table when the woman

who’d been performing came up behind them and put her

hands on each of their shoulders to keep them in their seats.

“Did you enjoy the show?” she purred.

Becky beamed up at her. “Oh, it was so much fun.”

The woman gave her a gracious nod. “Would the two of

you be interested in joining us for an after-party?”

“Oh,” Becky murmured, and Zane could see the blush

creeping up her face now. She looked at Zane, her eyes wide.

Zane smiled at her, but underneath the amusement,

he realized he was curious. Not necessarily tempted, but

certainly curious. He shook his head though, chalking it up

to too many hurricanes and too much debauched revelry for

the night.

“Thank you, but . . . we’ll have to pass,” he said to the

woman.

“Shame. Y’all come back any time.”

Becky held her breath until the woman was gone, and

then she gasped and hit Zane in the chest. “I can’t believe that

just happened!”

Zane laughed and took her elbow, helping her to her feet.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel so I can take advantage of you.”

They were still laughing as they pushed through the heavy

wooden door into the alley. Zane glanced to his right to see

a dark figure leaning against the wall further down, a halo of

blue smoke rising from his lips. His back was against the wal ,

his hips jutting out, one foot propped up against the brick.

He made an enticing, sensual silhouette.

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Zane nodded at him, recognizing the outline of the

bowler hat. The man reached up to the bill of his hat, tipping

it to them. Zane stared for another moment before he tore

his eyes away and followed his wife out of the alley.

“You’ve never told me that story,” Ty said with a frown.

Zane shrugged. He’d never had occasion to tell it, he

supposed. They were huddled around a tiny bar table in one

of the quieter establishments, far away from Bourbon Street.

The memories had surfaced clearer than he’d expected, but he

was frustrated to realize that he couldn’t describe the man in

the bowler hat. He only recalled the impression he’d left so

many years ago, but Zane supposed that was enough.

He played with the ice in his glass of Coke, fighting the

desire to pick up Kelly’s drink and throw it back. His one year

sober chip was heavy in his pocket. Ty wasn’t drinking, putting

up a united front with Zane so it wouldn’t be quite so hard to

fight the urge to indulge. Zane appreciated the gesture, but he

hated to tell Ty that no matter what he did, Zane still suffered.

“What year was it?” Ty asked.

“2003. Our tenth anniversary.”

“And you don’t remember what he looked like?”

“Couldn’t pick him out of a lineup.”

Ty nodded, looking almost relieved. Zane studied him for

a moment, wondering why. Was it possible Ty knew the man

he was talking about?

“So that was your first foray into the gay, huh?” Digger

asked. They were far enough into the night that Ty and Zane

were the only ones who were sober.

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Zane laughed. “I wouldn’t call it a foray, but yeah, I guess.

I didn’t often notice anyone other than my wife, actually. The

first actual foray didn’t come until I was in Miami.”

“That was after your wife passed away, right?” Owen asked.

Zane nodded. The man had been making an effort, Zane

would give him that. He looked supremely uncomfortable

whenever Ty and Zane displayed any kind of affection, but he

was keeping his mouth shut.

The conversation drifted into an awkward lul . Zane

glanced at Ty and patted his back pocket. He’d stopped at

one point in the night and bought a pack of cigarettes and a

lighter. Ty hadn’t said anything, seeming to know that giving

in to this one vice would help him fight the rest.

Zane excused himself and headed outside to light up.

He leaned against the old brick in an alcove off the sidewalk,

trying to clear his head and enjoying the cigarette just a little

too much. He could tell Ty was feeling guilty that they were

here, and part of that was knowing what the atmosphere

would do to Zane. Ty hadn’t known what they were getting

into down here, though, and none of the others knew Zane

was an alcoholic. It was no one’s fault, but Zane was still

growing annoyed by it al .

The longer he fought the pull of all that alcohol, the

meaner he would get.

A man strol ing along the sidewalk bumped into him as

he leaned against the wal . Zane peered around the corner of

the alcove as the stranger turned. His hand reached for Zane’s

waist as if to steady himself.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t see you there,” he said, patting

Zane’s side in an overly friendly gesture. His British accent

was pleasant, and it immediately reminded Zane of Ty and the

Christmas cruise they’d shared. He was handsome, with blue

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eyes that Zane could just barely see in the dim light, scruffy

blond hair, and a smattering of rakish stubble. He had full lips

that Zane’s eyes were immediately drawn to, and though he

was half a foot shorter than Zane, he was fit and muscular.

Zane gave him a second look over, appreciating the view.

He nodded. “Don’t worry about it.”

The man was patting his pockets, an unlit cigarette

between his lips. He grinned. “I see you suffer the same vice.”

Zane held up his cigarette. “Guilty. I can’t say I’m suffering

though.”

The stranger laughed. “Filthy habit, I’m told. And the

company is often lacking. I can’t say that’s true tonight.” He

stuck out his hand. “My name’s Liam. Liam Bell.”

Zane offered his hand and his name, finding himself

growing warmer with the overt flirtation. Liam’s hand was

rough and strong, and Zane liked the feel of it as he gripped it.

Liam continued to pat his pockets, a frown creasing his

brow. “I seem to have misplaced my lighter; you wouldn’t

mind if I nicked yours, would you?”

Zane placed his cigarette in his mouth and searched his

pockets for his new lighter, but all he found was the pack of

cigarettes and his wallet. He glanced around the brick wall

to see if he’d set it down on a ledge, but it was nowhere to be

found.

“Slippery buggers, aren’t they?”

Zane snorted. “If I hadn’t just lit up, I’d say my boyfriend

stole it like he usually does.”

“Oh dear, that’s unfortunate.”

“What is? That he disapproves of smoking?”

“To say the least, yes. That you have a boyfriend at all is

distressing.”

Zane choked on a laugh, growing warmer still.

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“I’m sorry, I forget you Yanks are more coy than I’m

accustomed to.”

Zane dismissed the apology with a wave. “It’s okay. I’m

just sorry I don’t have a light now.”

Liam looked down at the cigarette in his hand and sighed.

“Well. I suppose it won’t hurt me to miss one.”

Zane had a free pass for the weekend; he sure as hell

wasn’t going to miss any. He was going to have to buy another

lighter. He glanced over the crestfallen look on Liam’s face

and shook his head. “We can’t have that.”

Liam arched an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. He