by Sam Burns
Liam wanted to know Alex better. He might be interested in pursuing a relationship with him. In their current circumstances, though, it seemed impossible.
Alex was supposed to be a job. Making the Quinns happy was a part of his cover. It was never supposed to be more than that, but Liam could see himself falling for the man. He couldn’t tell Alex he was stalking him for work, though.
He definitely couldn’t tell Alex that he was stalking him for the mob boss he was also lying to, because he was investigating the Quinns for the CPD. The more involved Liam got with him, the more danger Alex would face.
There were two whole layers of lies between them and any kind of healthy relationship. And that wasn’t even counting what, if anything, Alex was holding back. Liam thought it was either amazing or devastating, but he didn’t believe Alex was holding anything back.
Liam didn’t think he was the world’s best judge of character, but he was usually pretty good at knowing if a person was lying to him. Maybe Alex was an incredible liar, but he just didn’t think so.
He opened and closed the phone app multiple times before finally steeling his spine and hitting send.
“Wilde’s,” came the answer after just one ring. “How can I help you today?”
He could have planned this better. Having spent all his time deciding what to say to Alex in the next phone call, it took him a moment to gather his thoughts and respond. “Is, ah, Keegan Quinn there? His brother told me to call him.”
The cheery female voice responded almost immediately, as though it was a request she got a dozen times a day. “One moment, let me check on that for you.”
The line clicked a minute later, and then once again before a deep masculine voice came on. “Keegan here.”
There was the Chicago accent that had been missing in both Quinn senior, and his younger son. It was the voice of a man who had spent his life in rougher parts of Chicago than Old Town. Liam also made a mental note of the fact that he referred to himself by his first name. Maybe Casey had been right about neither of Quinn’s sons being interested in the family business.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Keegan,” Liam said, deciding to follow Keegan’s cue and not refer to him as Mr. Quinn, “but this morning your brother suggested that I call you about a friend of mine.”
Technically, Liam was sure he should have spoken to Alex first, but he didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up if Keegan Quinn wasn’t interested in helping him out.
“This friend need a job?” Keegan asked, not sounding overly surprised.
Liam considered before answering. It was technically what he was looking for, but not exactly. “Kind of. He’s, ah, the bassist in a band.” Liam stopped short. “Damn. I don’t know their name. How could I not know that?”
Keegan’s laugh rang through the line and made Liam feel a little better about having forgotten. “Guy’s a good friend, then? Somebody you wanna impress, maybe?”
“Maybe,” Liam admitted, blushing bright red. Stupid, pale Irish skin. He was glad they were doing this over the phone. “I just, um, damn. This is so awkward. If you ask your brother, he’ll tell you I’m one of your father’s thugs.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end before Keegan responded in a somber tone. “I doubt that.”
“That I am, or that he’d tell you I am?” Liam asked.
“Either,” Keegan answered without hesitation. “If Owen knows you well enough to give you my number and still gives it to ya, he doesn’t think of you as one of Dad’s thugs, whether you work for the old man or not.”
“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted,” Liam said, letting his amusement bleed through in his tone. “Your brother doesn’t seem to be an easy guy to impress, though.”
“He’s not. That’s why I don’t have a problem helping you out.” Keegan answered easily. “Your friend have a name? Hell, do you have a name?”
Liam was starting to wonder if he’d lost all basic communication skills, he was making such a mess of the conversation. “Alex,” he told the man. “And, ah, I’m Liam. I haven’t asked him about it yet, but I figured I’d talk to you first, see if you were interested in booking a band at all.”
Keegan laughed, and the tone of it seemed genuinely amused. “I run a bar with live music in downtown Chicago. I’m always interested in booking a new act. I’ve also always got hundreds of choices. But guys that come recommended by my baby bro—those are a little more rare.”
A female voice came through the background of the call, asking Keegan a question that Liam couldn’t quite make out.
Keegan sighed, and his voice moved a little further from the speaker. “I’ll be right there.” He came back to Liam. “Sorry man, I gotta go. I’m gonna be here every morning this week before eleven. You talk to your boy and his band, let me know if they can drop by and when, and I’ll give ‘em a listen. Good?”
“Good,” Liam agreed. “Thanks, Keegan.”
“Anytime, Liam.”
The call disconnected, and Liam was left breathless by the suddenness of the whole thing. All he had to do was call Alex. Easy.
It was strange that a phone call could feel momentous. Like by setting this up, he was doing something important. He could only hope that he wasn’t going to destroy his career, or get someone killed.
He didn’t let himself hesitate before making the next call. After ending the one with Keegan, he went straight to Alex’s name on his contact list and hit the button.
It took Alex four rings to pick up, and by the time he did, Liam had started to worry that he wasn’t going to. Or that he was hurt, which would just be—
“Liam?” Alex’s voice sounded breathless, like maybe he’d had to run to get the phone.
“That’s my line,” Liam shot back, somehow managing to pretend he hadn’t just been worrying like a mother hen. “How’s it going? Am I calling too soon for some kind of cool guy dating protocol?”
Alex laughed, and it sounded even better when he wasn’t drunk. “Dude, like I have a clue about dating protocols. I think you’re supposed to call at exactly four thirty-six in the afternoon two days after we met. You know, super casual and not at all eager.”
“Forget that,” Liam said. “I’ll be eager all I want. And I want to get to know not-drunk Alex.”
A muffled groan came through from Alex’s end. “Oh jeez. I can just imagine telling our grandkids about how the first time we met, I was drunk off my ass and fell asleep on you. Oh my god. I just said that. I—”
Liam interrupted before Alex could start apologizing and freak himself out about the awkwardness. “I love that story. But we can’t leave out the mugger. Got to make sure the grandkids think I’m some big hero, right?”
“You kind of are,” Alex agreed, making Liam laugh. “I’m glad you called.”
“Me too.” Liam threw himself down on the couch in the middle of his living room and stared at the ceiling. “So there’s something weird I wanna run by you, and you gotta promise me you won’t think I’m nuts.”
“I . . . promise?” Alex sounded more confused than offended or nervous.
“I was talking about you this morning,” Liam said, and ignored the ‘aww’ from the other end of the line. Well, he pretended to ignore it. Blushing had been easier in Afghanistan, when he could blame it on the sun. “And this guy I know said his brother owns a bar. A club or something, I dunno, I’ve never been.”
“Okay,” Alex prompted. “And you want to go there?”
“No, it’s not—well yeah, kind of. The thing is, I remember you being in a band. Your friend announcing you were the best bassist in Chicago to the whole bar, you know?” Alex groaned into the phone again, and Liam took it as permission to continue. “So, this place, Wilde’s, does live music, and I asked the guy if maybe your band could play for him. See if he likes you?”
“Wilde’s? Like, Wilde’s in Old Town?” Alex asked, sounding dubious.
Liam had no idea, and less idea how to an
swer. “Is there more than one? And is that bad?”
Alex laughed, and it had a slightly hysterical tinge. “Fred . . . Fred can’t play at Wilde’s, Liam. There’s no—”
Who the heck was Fred? Liam wondered.
There was a high-pitched noise on the other end, then the sound of a scuffle, before a feminine voice came on the line. “Wilde’s? We can totally play Wilde’s. When?”
“He said you could come by some morning this week and, you know, show him what you’ve got. And he’d book you if he liked you.” Liam tried to play it down a bit, but it was too late for that to work. He should have known that even if he wasn’t involved in the family business, Keegan Quinn wouldn’t own a tiny dive bar.
The girl squealed, and Liam feared for dogs and cats in the area. “Oh my god, it’s so awesome that you’re gay!”
He was pretty sure that wasn’t aimed at him, but it made him smile anyway. “I’m glad you’re pleased, miss?”
“Jenna,” the girl said. She sounded slightly out of breath. “I’m Jenna. Can we go tomorrow? In the morning, you said?”
“Before eleven,” he agreed.
“We’ll be there,” she squealed, and the phone clicked to indicate that the call had disconnected.
Liam stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. Did he call back? Would that be weird? He briefly considered pulling out his emergency phone and calling his sister to ask what the etiquette on a thing like that would be, but the phone rang and it was Alex.
Alex was already talking when Liam got the phone to his ear. “. . . so sorry, dude. Jenna’s like, a force of nature or something.”
“I noticed,” Liam said, laughing. “But hey, as long as it’s a good thing. It’s a good thing, right?”
Alex hesitated before answering, and Liam heard a dozen answers in the silence. “It is. It’s just that we’ve never played anywhere like Wilde’s before. It’s kind of a lot, you know? And you barely know us. Me.”
“No, no,” Liam shook his head and put a hand up, even though Alex couldn’t see it. When he realized what he was doing he felt a little silly, and his fingers curled down toward his palm. “It’s not about that. I just remembered the bassist thing, so I said you were a bassist. And Owen said I should take you guys to his brother.”
There was a rush of breath on the other end of the line, and then a moment of quiet. “I’m pretty sure you’re too good to be true, Liam.”
Liam’s gut twisted. “Remember that when you find out that I’m really not, yeah? ‘Cause I’m as far from perfect as a guy gets. I just don’t watch people get mugged without doing something, and if somebody tells me how to help a guy out, I do it. Doesn’t make me a good guy, just maybe not the worst guy.”
Alex laughed. For just a moment, Liam wondered what would happen if he spilled everything. He couldn’t, of course. In the best-case scenario, it would put Alex in more danger. At worst, he didn’t want to consider the outcome.
“I’m pretty sure you’re as close to Prince Charming as I’m ever gonna get,” Alex murmured into the phone. “And I’m cool with it so far.”
And that was Liam’s downfall. He hadn’t known that anyone could be so open-hearted. “Don’t go thinking like that. You’ll be disappointed. Unless you’re thinking, you know, Prince Charming was some guy who couldn’t tell one girl’s face from another, so he had to resort to shoes to find the one he wanted. Makes you wonder what he spent the night looking at, know what I mean?”
The sound of Alex laughing was something Liam could get used to. “Okay, no, you’re definitely better than that. You could probably pick me out of a lineup without resorting to shoe size.”
“Plus I didn’t steal your shoes last night, so I don’t have one to make people try on. Thought about it, though,” Liam admitted, and then they were both laughing.
“So, were you just calling to offer the band the chance of a lifetime?” Alex asked after they calmed. He sounded a bit disappointed.
“Of course not. But—is the band really named Fred, or did I hear that wrong?” Liam shot back. It wouldn’t be the weirdest band name he’d heard, but he wanted to be sure.
“It’s, uh, a nickname,” Alex hedged. When Liam didn’t speak again, he sighed and continued. “It’s Jake, see? He’s a huge music guy, and when he was—oh, forget it. To avoid the whole story, the band’s called Freddy Mercury’s Not Dead, and since that’s ridiculous, we say Fred.”
Liam thought about it for a minute. “I’ve heard weirder,” he concluded.
“I cringe to imagine what it could have been,” Alex said with a sigh. “I didn’t even know who Freddie Mercury was until they explained it to me. Yes, I know, I’m a heathen.”
“Eh,” Liam answered. “I always liked Queen, but they’re not for everyone. I think I liked them mostly because it pissed my father off.”
Alex was quiet for a minute before speaking up in a soft, pleased voice. “I like that I know that about you.”
Liam didn’t think of himself as romantic, but that was enough to make a guy melt a little bit. Still, his masculine training was screaming at him to turn the nice moment into a joke. He tried to find an answer somewhere in between. “You know, there’s lots more pointless facts about me you could learn, over something like, oh, dinner?”
“Yeah?” Alex’s voice had a smile in it.
“Yeah. Tomorrow night?”
“I don’t know,” Alex sighed. “Do you really want to set a date for right after I might get rejected by your friend?”
“If he rejects you, he’s no friend of mine. Besides, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” Liam hadn’t actually considered the notion that they might be bad. He dismissed it at once. Fred had the best bassist in Chicago, after all.
“Now that’s what a guy likes to hear,” Alex said. “Dinner tomorrow night. Sounds good.” There was a banging sound on the other end of the line, and muffled voices. “And apparently I couldn’t do it tonight anyway. We have to go on a practicing binge so that we’ll be extra tired tomorrow morning. My fingers hurt just thinking about it.”
After they hung up, Liam called Keegan back, warning the man that they’d be there the next morning. He also told him that at least one member of the band—the name of which he proudly told the man, and then had to explain—, was exceptionally enthusiastic about the opportunity.
Even an hour later during his evening workout routine, Liam found himself smiling.
Liam decided that he was going to arrive at Wilde’s before the band, but then realized that he didn’t know when anyone was arriving, including Keegan himself. It was amazing how a year outside the Marines had left him planning-challenged.
He went for his morning run, pushing a little harder than usual since he hadn’t managed to run at all the day before. Slipping out of habits like that was how former Marines went from buff and intimidating to round and harmless. That, and tacos they didn’t need.
After showering and putting on some decent clothes, he headed out, following the map on his phone. He was no stranger to the Chicago public transit system, but he didn’t spend a lot of time wandering around downtown. It was always loud and crowded enough to make him uncomfortable.
Arriving at Wilde’s, he understood why Alex and Jenna had been so surprised by the offer. Wilde’s was not the dark, dive bar he’d been picturing when he’d made the arrangements. Housed in one of the newer buildings in Old Town, it looked like a classy restaurant from the outside.
The impression intensified when he walked through the heavily framed glass doors. It was all solid dark wood tables and booths, low lighting, and a large stage that could be seen from almost anywhere in the place. It didn’t fit Liam’s idea of a bar at all.
A smiling girl with a blond ponytail popped up from behind the hostess station, her arms full of cloth napkins. “Oh, um, we’re not open yet. Unless you’re . . .” She looked down at a paper on the counter in front of her. “Fred?”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that.
He wondered if he should explain, but decided against it. Chances were it would just be patronizing. “No, I’m not, but I did arrange for them to come. Is Keegan here?”
“Oh! Are you their manager?” she asked, setting the napkins down and motioning for him to follow her.
He had no idea how to explain his connection to them, so he decided not to try. “Not exactly.”
“The bassist is his boyfriend, and he wanted to impress him by getting ‘em a job.” Keegan Quinn’s baritone voice reverberated off the walls, proving the place’s excellent acoustics at the same time as he answered the girl’s question.
Liam’s eyes went to the stage where Keegan stood. The other man shot him a tiny salute and a smile, then went back to adjusting the microphone. Seeing him in person, Liam decided that he matched his voice quite well. He was large, and under the right circumstances, Liam imagined he’d be quite intimidating. He was also beautiful in a way men weren’t supposed to be, with full lips and big, wide-set eyes. Liam imagined he’d gotten no small amount of trash for that in his life.
Hell, Liam had gotten called a pretty boy by a fellow Marine once just because he was relatively scar-free and had a straight nose.
He looked over at the girl, who was watching him with a grin on her face, and he flushed even further. “Owen told me to call,” he said petulantly, as though that mattered to her.
“And who wouldn’t? I mean, seriously. You had the opportunity to impress your guy. I’d have done it.” She stepped forward and stuck her hand out. “Brigit.”
“Liam,” he answered, shaking it. “Do you have a say in this thing?”
“Oh no, that’s all Keegan.” She waved a hand in his general direction. “I’m just here to help set up for the lunch crowd.”
“And always curious,” Keegan added, coming up behind her and resting a hand on her shoulder. “But that’s okay. Brigit’s the only reason this place doesn’t fall apart. If she weren’t curious, she wouldn’t know and fix it when I screw things up.”
