Secretly Dating the Lionman

by Sue Brown

  “It suits you,” he said.

  Bennett eyed him suspiciously, but he seemed to relax when he saw Cris’s expression. “I’d hate to have to move. Mind you, if I did, Mikey would be in here like a shot. He loves the place as much as I do. Ready to eat?” Cris’s stomach growled in response. Bennett laughed. “I guess that’s a yes, then.”

  Cris followed Bennett into a small kitchen.

  Bennett pointed to a stool by the breakfast bar. “Take a seat. The potatoes are already baked. I’ve got to heat them up.

  “You prepared them earlier?”

  Color spread along Bennett’s cheeks. “I was going to ask you to dinner.”

  Cris felt a warm feeling spread through him. Whatever was going through Bennett’s head, it was obvious he wanted to spend time with Cris. “If you feed me with steak, I’ll always say yes.”

  Bennett handed him a bottle of beer. It was from a microbrewery Cris hadn’t heard of, but Cowboys and Angels had a reputation as the place to go to for good beer. Dan was always researching new breweries, especially local companies. They’d held a couple of beer festivals, organized by Ariel and much appreciated by the regulars.

  He took a chug—not that he was a connoisseur, Cris was just as happy with cheap beer from the tap, but it seemed to have an orange flavor.

  Bennett eyed him perceptively. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s different.” Cris took another swallow. “Stronger than I’m used to. Don’t tell me you brewed it.”

  Bennett laughed. “No, but I really like it. I try all the new beer. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to.” He laughed as Cris clasped his bottle to his breast. “There’s cheap and nasty beer too.”

  “Thanks,” Cris said flatly, but then he grinned.

  Despite Cris’s protests, Bennett swapped out Cris’s beer and kept the orange beer for himself. The conversation was light and easy as Bennett worked around the kitchen. Cris offered to help once and was told to sit and stay. Bennett admitted he didn’t like eating on the sofa—a hangover from his grandmother’s rules—so they would eat at the breakfast bar. The delicious aroma of baked potatoes and frying onions filled the air, and by the time Bennett presented him with a loaded plate, Cris was ready to eat the furniture.

  Cris chased around the last piece of steak on the plate and sighed in contentment before he chewed. “That was epic,” he declared and belched contentedly.

  Bennett was maybe a mouthful behind, but he too sighed and burped in agreement. Then he sat back and rubbed his belly. “I needed that.”

  Cris belched again. “I don’t think I’ll ever need to eat again.”

  He was going to have to be careful. He couldn’t afford to eat like that if he was going back on the stage. But today he would enjoy himself.

  “Let’s go in the other room,” Bennett said. “I’ve got ice cream for later.”

  Cris followed Bennett into the main room, collapsed contentedly on a sofa, and closed his eyes for a moment. Bennett picked out an album, and the room filled with Stevie Nicks’s haunting vocals.

  “Is this okay for you?” Bennett asked.

  “More than okay.”

  Cris opened his eyes as the sofa dipped and found Bennett staring at him intently. He sat with one leg tucked under him, and his eyes were huge, dark, and framed with thick lashes.

  “You have very pale skin,” Bennett murmured.

  “Pasty skin and freckles,” Cris agreed.

  “Beautiful skin.” Bennett traced one finger over his cheekbone. “You must burn in the sun.”

  “All the time. That’s why I work at night. I’m a vampire.”

  “But you don’t go poof at sunrise.”

  “Not usually.”

  Cris turned to face him and mirrored his pose. Bennett took Cris’s hand and laced their fingers together. Cris waited. He had a feeling Bennett had something on his mind, and finally Bennett brushed his lips over Cris’s knuckles.

  “Tell me,” Cris ordered.

  “What?”

  “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Bennett exhaled a long breath. “Mikey called me this morning. He told me about his visit to you last night.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he felt I betrayed him. I knew he liked you, and it wasn’t fair for me to be in a relationship with you.”

  Cris frowned. “I’ve made it clear I’m not into him, and I am into you.” He emphasized the word so there could be no mistake, and Bennett tightened his fingers around his.

  “I’m into you too, in case that’s not clear.”

  “But?” Cris was sure there was a but coming.

  Bennett sighed again. “I’m not out.”

  Cris waited.

  “You’re the first man I’ve ever been open about.”

  “Thank you.” Cris placed a kiss in the palm of Bennett’s hand.

  “But my parents don’t know.” Bennett gasped.

  “Don’t you think they’ll find out?”

  “Mikey’s threatened to tell Tata.”

  Cris was ready to find Mikey and strangle him for being a selfish stupid brat. “Do you think he will?”

  “Not if he doesn’t want his own secret out,” Bennett said grimly.

  Stalemate.

  “Bennett, I’m not in the closet, and I have no intention of going back in.” Cris had to get that out there, because he’d been open with the world for a long time, and he intended to stay that way.

  “I know. And I will tell my parents, but on my terms, not with Mikey threatening me.”

  “He’s just hurt and lashing out.”

  “I know.” Bennett looked into Cris’s eyes. “I just need you… I’m asking you… to be patient with me.”

  Cris didn’t answer immediately, and Bennett’s expression grew bleaker, but finally Cris nodded. “You can set the pace of our relationship.”

  Bennett sat back, relief written in his expression.

  “As long as you understand that while you associate with me, people will think you’re gay,” Cris warned.

  “They can think what they like. If I don’t start making out with you, it’s all rumor.”

  “Denial, denial, denial.”

  “It’s worked for centuries,” Bennett said.

  But at what cost? Cris gently tugged his hand away and sat back. He felt as though he’d gotten on a bus that was out of control and there was no Keanu Reeves to save the day.

  Chapter 12

  “NICE VIEW.”

  Initially Cris didn’t realize the compliment was aimed at him because his head was down and his ass up as he hunted for a coin that had slipped out of his hand and rolled under the bar. He found the missing coin with a crow of triumph. Then he looked up and remembered just in time to move away so he didn’t bump his head against the solid wood of the bar. Bennett leaned over it and grinned down at him.

  Cris grinned back. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

  He stood and almost leaned over to kiss Bennett. He pulled back just before it became obvious and covered himself by dropping the coin in the till.

  “Mikey wanted to come, and I knew you were working tonight.” Bennett didn’t indicate that he’d seen Cris’s aborted move.

  They hadn’t seen each other since the previous Monday morning when Bennett dropped him home on his way to work. Bennett had been working long hours on a crazy project, and Cris hadn’t called either because he welcomed the space. He needed some time to think after the night at Bennett’s. They’d slept wrapped around each other but, aside from lazy early morning hand jobs, they hadn’t pursued anything further. There was a tension between them that Cris had to admit mainly came from him. His conversation with Bennett had unsettled him. He’d thought—hoped—they were progressing into something more. And discussing it with Dan hadn’t helped either. Cris got the feeling Dan believed the Petrovskis were a lost cause.

  “It’s good to see you.” Cris looked around to see Dan and Bradley
serving the other customers. “What do you want to drink?”

  Bennett pointed to an IPA and leaned against the bar as Cris poured the beer. “You’re getting better at that.”

  Cris grimaced as he thought about how much beer he’d wasted initially. “I’m getting a lot more practice.”

  “Still no luck getting your job back at the club?”

  He placed the beer in front of Bennett and took his money. “I’m not even trying. I haven’t called Marlon, and he’s ignoring me now. I don’t wanna go back there. Thankfully Dan’s offered me as many shifts as I want. One of their new guys quit after the first shift. He couldn’t deal with Ariel.”

  Bennett frowned. “What about the studio? I thought you were getting ready for an exhibition.”

  Cris forced a smile. “I was, but I’ve postponed it. I’m not gonna be ready in time. Another guy at the studio is taking my place.”

  “You can go next time, right?”

  “If there is a next time.”

  “I’m so sorry, Cris,” Bennett said gently.

  “Yeah, me too.” From the sympathetic look on Bennett’s face, he didn’t need to say how upset he was at losing the exhibition. Months of hard work and long hours planning, and all that preparation had gone to waste. It would be years before he got another chance like that, if it happened at all. The gallery had been a big deal. He took a deep breath and plastered a smile on his face. “It’s okay. I’d have struggled to be ready in time anyway. I still haven’t started your painting.”

  “There’ll be a next time,” Bennett rumbled. “And you’ll be ready then.”

  Cris couldn’t help but smile. “You sound very sure.”

  “I have faith in you. I’ve seen your work, remember?”

  If Cris hadn’t been working and in Cowboys and Angels, he’d have dragged Bennett off to a quiet corner and kissed him until the man was breathless. It had been so long since someone had shown unconditional support in him.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He let his eyes do the talking for him.

  Bennett smiled, but Cris got distracted by another customer, and Bennett vanished into the evening crowd. Cris didn’t have time to do more than occasionally seek him through the mob. If it had been the other way around, he would have been easy to spot. Not many people had flame-colored hair, but Bennett blended in with everyone else.

  And didn’t that just sum up their current situation?

  Cris was pouring a beer when he heard a shout from across the room. He looked over to see Mikey about to throw a punch at one of his friends. He was nose-to-nose with another guy, fists already clenched.

  “Don’t you dare call me a fucking faggot!”

  Mikey’s words resonated in the sudden silence in the bar.

  The other man, at least thirty pounds heavier than Mikey, sneered at him, and Mikey snapped, jumped on him, and shoved him to the ground. He laid punches into him faster than Cris could keep track of.

  “Oh fuck,” Dan swore and charged around the bar. From the other corner of the room, Gideon and Bennett rushed toward the brawling pair. Gideon pulled Mikey off the prostrate man and pushed him to one side, and Bennett wrapped his arms around his brother, but Mikey shook him off, and Bennett staggered backward. Cris managed to steady him before he fell. Bennett muttered his thanks and pulled free to confront his brother, but Dan was there first, hands on his hips and his expression furious.

  “What the hell is going on?” He reached down to pull the man on the floor to his feet. His nose bled profusely, and his left eye was red and would probably swell shut. Dan handed him a tissue.

  Mikey gasped for breath, his face red from exertion and anger. He stabbed a finger at the other guy, and his knuckles were red and swollen. “He called me a faggot.” He spat the words out angrily.

  Dan spun on the other man who took a step back in the face of Dan’s anger. “What the hell, Trey?”

  “It was a joke, Dan,” Trey said hastily. “Just a joke about the song he was singing.”

  Dan didn’t look as though he found it funny. “I’m a fucking faggot, Trey. Do you want to say that to my face?”

  Despite the fact he was much larger than Dan, Trey cowered away. “No. No. I’m sorry.”

  “Do you want to press charges against Mikey?” Gideon asked him. “I can call the cops right now.”

  “What?” Mikey spluttered.

  If anything, Trey looked more shocked than Mikey. “No, no, we’re good. Aren’t we, Mikey?”

  Mikey, who had looked like he wanted to tear Trey limb from limb until the possibility of charges against him were mentioned, nodded furiously. “We’re good.”

  “So you don’t want to press hate-crime charges against Trey?” Dan asked, steely-eyed.

  “What?” Trey protested.

  “What? No! It was a stupid heat-of-the-moment thing,” Mikey protested. “Tell him, Trey.”

  “I’ll never say fag—that word—again,” Trey assured them.

  Dan took a deep breath. “Gideon, take Trey away and clean him up. And while you’re doing that, explain what’s gonna happen if I do hear him use that word again in my bar.”

  Gideon smiled viciously at Trey, who went even paler, and Cris couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

  Then Dan turned on Mikey as Gideon and Trey walked away. “This is your last fucking warning, Mikey. Go home and get your shit together. If you cause trouble again in Cowboys and Angels, you ain’t coming back. Do you understand?” Mikey nodded, but Dan said, “That’s not good enough. Say it out loud.”

  “I understand,” Mikey muttered.

  Dan’s expression softened a fraction, and he ruffled Mikey’s hair. “You’re a mess, kid. Get your shit together before you get it kicked in.”

  Mikey huffed loudly and looked around as though seeking support. It didn’t escape Cris’s notice that no one stepped forward until Bennett grabbed Mikey by the arm and said, “I’m taking you home. Get your coat.”

  “I don’t wanna go home,” Mikey said.

  “Tough,” Bennett snapped. “I think everyone’s had enough of you tonight.”

  Dan patted Mikey on the back. “Your brother is right. Go home and get some sleep.”

  Mikey scowled, but he shrugged on his jacket and cap. Bennett looked over at Cris and mouthed an apology, and Cris smiled at him. He was disappointed their evening had ended so abruptly, but he understood family came first.

  The brothers disappeared out the door, and Cris returned to his post behind the bar. He poured beer after beer and chatted to customers about anything except Mikey Petrovski. At some point Gideon emerged with Trey, who was sporting an impressively swollen eye and a penitent expression. Dan handed Trey a beer, and Trey vanished back to his friends.

  Gideon sighed as he sat down opposite Cris. “Gimme a Coke please. I swear that boy’s got nothing between his ears except cotton candy.”

  Cris snorted and handed Gideon the soda. “Trey or Mikey?”

  “Either… both,” Gideon sipped his drink. “That’s better. I had to do a lot of talking to get Trey to understand. It was a throwaway remark to him. He had no idea Mikey was going to react like that.”

  “He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Cris agreed.

  Gideon looked around. “Where’s Mikey?”

  “Bennett took him home before he could get into more trouble.”

  “Good call. Is Bennett coming back?”

  “Not as far as I know. He’s gonna have his hands full with Mikey.”

  “Fair enough. Could you give Dan a hand to clean up after closing? Bradley has to leave early, and I’ve promised Trey I’ll run him home. He took quite a pounding from Mikey.”

  The last thing Cris felt like doing was staying up another few hours to clean the bar, but the money was useful, and he wasn’t working the next day. He’d promised himself a few hours at the studio, but he could do that later in the day. “Sure. Do you need me in tomorrow?”

  Gideon shook his head. “No, i
t’s fine. You’ve worked hard this week.”

  “It’s probably the hardest work I’ve done since my dad made me work on a ranch on vacations in high school. Cured me of wanting to be a cowboy.”

  Gideon chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t want to come work for me for good? You’re the best temp I’ve ever had, and I could give you a hat and spurs if you want to be a cowboy.”

  “No need, Gideon. I’ve already got a hat and spurs just waiting in my closet.” Cris winked at him.

  “Whose bar is it?” Dan asked as he walked past with a tray of dirty glasses.

  “It’s your bar, darlin’.”

  Dan rolled his eyes, and Cris grinned because it was an ongoing battle. Gideon couldn’t quite let go of the reins.

  “I like doing a good job. I don’t care if it’s stripping or bartending,” Cris said.

  Gideon eyed him thoughtfully. “You’re wasted as a stripper. Have you ever thought of management?”

  Cris laughed out loud. “What would I manage?”

  “We’ll see,” Gideon said cryptically. He didn’t pursue it any further, and then they got distracted by a crash from the kitchen.

  Cris got to his feet. “I’ll deal with it. You’re front of house. I can sweep up a few glasses.”

  “As I said, maybe you need to extend your repertoire.”

  “There’s not much call for stripping dishwashers.” Cris chuckled and headed into the kitchen to find Bradley surrounded by broken glass.

  “Stay there,” Cris said. “I’ll sweep you a path to get out.”

  “Thanks, man,” Bradley said gratefully. “I can’t wait for this evening to be over.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Cris agreed as he backed out of the kitchen to get the broom from the janitor’s closet.

  THE LAST thing Cris expected to see was Bennett dozing against his front door when he finally made it back to his apartment.

  He hunkered down beside him. “Hey.”

  Bennett opened his eyes and blinked sleepily as he tried to focus. “Hey.”

  “You must be frozen.” Cris stood and tugged Bennett to his feet. When Bennett staggered, Cris held him up until Bennett regained his balance. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Where’s Mikey?”