Working Date Page 2

  “She's just being an asshole,” Ethan explained, loudly. “It's kind of her thing.”

  “So you don't discuss me at every opportunity?” Beau watched Ethan, his brow a pointed, knowing arch.

  “No. And yeah, I know I said that too fast.”

  Beau laughed.

  “It's just I anticipated the question.”

  “Look at you - anticipating.”

  “Okay, thanks, you can shut up now.” Ethan downed about half his beer. The quiet between them felt warm, like before. Way before. Casting about for something to say, Ethan asked, “Back home tonight?”

  “Not just yet. I have a room down the street. Flying Squirrel? I know that's not it.”

  Ethan perked up. “Squirrel Leap,” he said. “The Garretts own it.” He slid a curious look Beau's way.

  “You've met?”

  Ethan sputtered a laugh. “You might have noticed, but it's a small town.”

  “Oh?” Beau spun in his seat so his whole body faced Ethan. He was grinning and turning the rim of his pint glass in slow, steady circles. He looked happy and handsome and like the three years since Ethan had last seen him were the best ones yet. Beau's grin widened and he challenged, “What?”

  Ethan realized he was grinning, too. He covered it with a long drink of beer. “Nothing. So you're here overnight or what?”

  “I leave on Thursday.” Beau's grin had mostly faded, but warmth lingered in his expression as he studied Ethan. He appeared to be weighing some decision. At last, he said quietly, “Maybe I can treat you to dinner tomorrow night.”

  Ethan nearly choked on his beer. Drinks were one thing, but dinner? He hesitated.

  “Unless you have plans,” Beau added. “Or...” He trailed off and Ethan looked at him. Beau's smile was wry. “Or you don't want to.” Of course Beau wouldn't take offense.

  Protesting, Ethan said, “It's not that.”

  “Then what?”

  Staring into his drink, Ethan could feel Beau's searching gaze on him. It was just dinner. What was the big deal? “I don't know. You really want to hang out with me?”

  Instead of acting surprised, Beau gave a short laugh and leaned on his elbows over the bar. Shooting Ethan an understanding look, he said, “Yes, I do. I wouldn't offer otherwise.”

  “All right. It's just that earlier you seemed, well...”

  Nodding his head in acknowledgment, Beau stopped Ethan's words with a slight gesture. “I know and I'm sorry.” He hesitated. “I knew there was a chance I'd run into you.” He smiled at his drink on the bar top. As if sharing a secret, he added, “I was supposed to play it cool.”

  Relief spread over Ethan. “Well, you did,” he said, chiding, and watched the side of Beau's face.

  “I'm sorry. I wasn't sure how happy you'd be to see me,” Beau admitted.

  The admission was laughable, but apparently Beau didn't realize that. Taking a moment to recover, Ethan said, “I always like seeing you. I mean... It's been a while. I don't know.” He drained the last of his beer, frowned at the empty glass. There was still something else, something he wanted to ask, but he didn't know how to frame it. Finally he asked, “You don't, like, have any hard feelings?”

  Something in Beau's blue eyes changed, turning tender. “No,” he said. “I won't pretend I was thrilled at the time. Obviously, I wish you'd stayed.”

  Was that obvious? But Ethan knew it had been on him. Beau would have been perfectly content to keep on as things were, spending three or four nights a week together, sharing meals and a bed. Learning how to fit into each others lives.

  But the warehouse. Ethan couldn't let it go. He had found himself riding his bike past the building, long after the last of the police tape had been torn down and fluttered off into the bay.

  Suddenly, Beau seemed surprised to see his beer still in front of him. It seemed he'd taken his own little stroll down memory lane. He drank from the glass, wiped his mouth. “That was a long time ago. I'm just glad to see you. You really look great. I guess this place suits you.”

  “I guess.” Ethan pushed his empty glass away and left money on the bar. He wanted to tell Beau that he looked really good, too, but the words wouldn't come out and the moment eventually passed.

  “So, tomorrow night then? Say around seven? There's a place in town I want to check out, unless you have another suggestion.”

  With a friendly roll of his eyes, Ethan asked, “Let me guess. Rosa's?”

  Beau didn't take offense and only nodded, a small smile at the corners of his mouth.

  “It's good,” Ethan assured. “Yeah. Seven is perfect.” They walked out together. The sun had gone down while they were inside and Ethan tipped his head back to observe the night sky. He loved how the black of the trees marked the heavy, twinkling blue. With the warm familiarity of the brew house at his back, the dark was manageable - beautiful, even.

  A gentle touch at his shoulder alerted him to Beau's presence. Beau's hands were back in his pockets, but his arm had brushed Ethan's. Ethan glanced over and found him also looking up. Then his gaze slid over, eyes shining in the dark. Beau said, “Can't beat a view like that.”

  A strange lump formed in Ethan's throat. “No,” he agreed.

  Chapter 3

  A few minutes after seven, Ethan stood in the entrance to Rosa's and scanned the crowd for Beau. He found him at the bar, turning a rocks glass in circles and speaking to a frowning young man.

  The frowning young man was the bartender. Ethan had seen him around, noticed him, in fact. He was good looking with somber eyes and dark, curly hair, but next to Beau's more mature features, his direct smile and alert blue gaze, he was perfectly underwhelming.

  Dismissing him, Ethan joined Beau at the bar. “Hi.”

  His sudden arrival caught Beau off-guard. Gaze sweeping quickly up and down Ethan's body, he recovered, saying, “There you are.”

  “Here I am.”

  The bartender disappeared.

  “Damn it,” said Beau, tapping his knuckles on the bar in frustration.

  Ethan observed the folded bills clenched in Beau's fist and said, “Let me guess: he's not buying it.”

  Beau gave him another once-over with a clinical eye. He knew what Ethan meant. “No. He's not.”

  A response like that and Ethan had to laugh. Sliding onto the seat, he settled his elbows over the bar and checked out what was on draft. “I thought you could talk to anybody.”

  Nodding at the bartender's back, Beau said, “Evidently not.” He sighed. “I must be losing my touch.”

  “What?” Ethan rubbed the folded ends of a twenty between his fingers, gazing idly at the wall of liquor in front of him. “One guy doesn't fall completely in love with you at first glance and you're losing your touch? Man, your day to day must be unreal.”

  “It's perfectly real,” Beau assured. “And if it were just one guy, it wouldn't be a problem.”

  The bartender finally came back. “I'll get the red ale, thanks,” Ethan said. To Beau, he asked, “Are we getting a table?”

  “Well, what's the hurry?” Beau asked broadly.

  Setting Ethan's beer down, the bartender quickly offered, “I can transfer your ticket.” He stared meaningfully at Ethan and pointedly ignored Beau.

  It was an uncomfortable moment. At last, Ethan said, “I guess we could put our name in.”

  “I'll take care of it.”

  Ethan watched the bartender walk away before finally turning to Beau. “What did you say to him?”

  “I only wanted to ask a few questions, but he wasn't giving me much, so I offered him cash. He really didn't like that.”

  “How much did you offer him?”

  “Sixty bucks,” Beau said, somewhat defensively. “Not bad for a few minutes of his time.”

  “He doesn't seem to think so.”

  The hostess appeared with a bright smile and pair of menus. “Gentlemen?”

  Shooting Beau a quick glance, Ethan gathered his drink and slid off the bar stool.
<
br />   They followed the young woman through the restaurant to a table in back. To Ethan's surprise, it was fairly secluded and no where near either the restroom or a swinging kitchen door.

  Taking a seat, Ethan couldn't help shaking his head in bemusement. Taking notice, Beau waited until they were alone and raised his brows in question.

  “Only in your world does pissing off the waitstaff get your name to the top of the list and one of the best tables in the house.”

  Beau spread his hands. “This is your world, Ethan. I'm just visiting.”

  “Then maybe you should stay longer.” Ethan spoke without thinking. The words hung there between them and Ethan wasn't sure how to take them back, so he just shrugged and added, “Maybe you can give me a few pointers.”

  Beau grinned at him. “You don't need any help in the charm department, Mr. Banks. Especially not from me.”

  Rolling his eyes, Ethan said, “Come on. It hasn't been that long.”

  “I think you might be selling yourself short. Hey. You look really good tonight.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know, I was trying to figure out what's different about you.”

  “You mean other than the fact that it's been almost three years since you saw me?”

  With an indulgent smile, Beau said, “Right. Other than that. You know, you've really filled out. You were always so-well.” He gave an embarrassed grin.

  Ethan didn't take offense. “Skinny? Yeah. Biking around San Francisco everyday and barely having enough money to eat will do that.”

  “Well, you look really good. This place really does suit you.”

  The compliments were starting to get a little embarrassing. “Um, thanks. You look good, too. I mean, you always did.” Ethan shut himself up by taking a long drink of beer. “So what kind of questions were you assaulting the staff with?”

  “Nothing very exciting. Some people are just naturally defensive.”

  “That sounds about right for him.”

  Eyes brightening, Beau leaned over the table and asked in a low voice, “You know him?”

  “We're not friends or anything. He comes into the bar sometimes. In fact, I'm not even sure of his name.”

  “Jamie,” Beau supplied, tapping a spot on his chest where a name-tag might be.

  “That's it. He moved here not too long ago ago. I think his cousins are the Garretts.” Ethan watched closely for a reaction and Beau didn't disappoint.

  Laying his napkin over his lap, Beau said dryly, “So you're saying it runs the family.”

  With a laugh, Ethan reached for a menu. “You mean they haven't rolled out the red carpet?”

  “Who said anything about red carpet? I'd settle for clean towels.”

  They each placed their orders and silence fell over the table. It wasn't uncomfortable. Ethan settled his gaze on Beau's and they had a little stare down.

  “You know,” Beau said at last, “You really-”

  “Look great? I know! Thanks.”

  “Sorry.” But Beau didn't look sorry at all. He was smiling, in fact, and appeared perfectly relaxed.

  Now Ethan did start to feel uncomfortable. Not in a bad way, exactly, but he felt a little warm and it wasn't from the beer. Still, Beau gazed at him. “Can you not?” Ethan finally burst out. “Jeez. I could use a couple pointers from your pal back there, I think.”

  “Am I doing something wrong?” Beau shrugged, still smiling. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Sorry. I just can't believe I'm sitting across from you.”

  “Is it really so out there?”

  “Well, after our little field trip yesterday...”

  “Right. Sorry about that.”

  “You're sorry? I'm the one who should apologize. I should have realized-”

  Holding a hand up, Ethan said, “Stop. Let's just forget it. We're both sorry.” He grinned. “Moving on.”

  The corner of Beau's mouth quirked up in a smile. “I'll drink to that.” A moment later, he added, “Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again.”

  Now there was a sobering thought. Ethan's mood dimmed. “Yeah. I guess I kind of thought the same. Actually, I thought you might be married with a couple of kids by now.”

  Beau grimaced. “I think that ship has sailed.”

  “Really?” Ethan frowned into his drink. “I'm sorry.”

  “It is what it is.” Beau's gaze jumped past Ethan's shoulder. “That looks like your burger.”

  Beau was appreciative as they were served and admired his steak for a moment before flashing an enormous smile at the waiter. “Thank you so much.”

  The waiter said flatly, “Yep,” and Ethan hid a smile behind his hand. Beau looked stunned.

  Alone again, Ethan held out his beer, still half full, to the distracted Beau. “Cheers,” he said.

  Blue eyes found his own. Holding up his glass, Beau said, “To reconnecting.”

  After dinner they returned to the bar for another drink. The same bartender was there and didn't look exactly thrilled to see them-Beau, in particular.

  “I don't get it,” said Beau. “Ever since I came here, it's like I stepped in dog shit. Literally no one wants to talk to me.”

  Ethan bumped Beau with his shoulder. “I'm talking to you.”

  “Sure, but I got to you early.”

  “Ah. You're saying I just don't know any better.”

  “Exactly.”

  Jamie the Bartender walked by with barely a glance. Pushing his drink to the edge of the bar, Beau called with a sigh, “At your leisure.” It was a sorry sight. A handsome one, but sorry all the same.

  Ethan realized he was smiling-and staring. And he realized someone was calling his name. He turned with a start.

  “Ryan,” Ethan said. Beside him, Beau turned in his chair.

  Ryan taught phys ed at the local middle school. Sometimes he and Ethan spent time together, but it never felt serious. Seeing the question in Ryan's eye now, Ethan wondered if that had been the correct read.

  “Hi. This is Beau. He's an old friend.”

  Beau stuck a hand out. His big smile was back. “Nice to meet you.”

  With an obliging shake, Ryan said politely, “And you.” Sliding his gaze back to Ethan, he asked, “You here for dinner?”

  Ethan remembered the remains of his bleu cheese burger, left behind and in pieces. “Actually, we just ate.”

  Was that disappointment in Ryan's eyes? Ethan frowned. He was pretty sure they hadn't made plans. Then Beau cut in.

  “Delicious rib-eye,” he said.

  “I've had it,” Ryan answered coolly.

  No way was Ethan imagining that tone.

  An awkward beat of silence passed. Ethan opened his mouth to tell Ryan it was nice to see him and goodbye, but Ryan said quickly, “Can I still call you this weekend?”

  Ethan froze with his mouth still open. Had they made plans? He wracked his brain. Meanwhile Ryan stared at him and Beau casually sipped his fresh drink. “Ah,” Ethan said. “Sure.”

  Ryan gave him a thin smile. “Great. Talk to you then.” He headed for the dining room, leaving silence in his wake.

  Cringing, Ethan said, “Sorry.”

  “Not seeing anyone, huh?” But Beau looked more wry than upset.

  “I'm not. I don't know what that was.”

  “No?”

  “I mean, we've hung out...”

  “Oh, you've 'hung out,'” said Beau. “I see.”

  “No, you don't.” Ethan didn't know why it was so important to him that Beau know he was single. He stared into the bottom of his pint glass. It felt like they'd been there for hours. He guessed they had. “You want to get out of here?”

  Outside the restaurant, the streets were bustling with groups and couples.

  “Feel like a walk?” Beau asked.

  “Sure.” As they meandered up the street, Ethan slid his hands in his pockets. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but he was suddenly unsure what to say. A quick glance at Beau, however, reassured him.
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  Another thing that hadn't changed over the years was how unnervingly at home Beau appeared in any and all situations. Now he strode unhurriedly at Ethan's side, inspecting store fronts and people-watching.

  “Anything good?” Ethan asked after a while.

  “I wouldn't say that.” Nodding in the direction of a couple seated on a bench, Beau added, “Someone's sorry.”

  Ethan looked. The woman's arms were tightly crossed and the man leaned toward her with his whole body. Ethan didn't think he'd seen anyone look sorrier. He winced and, after they'd passed, said, “Guess he fucked up.”

  Beau flashed him a handsome grin. “There's an assumption.”

  Ethan defended himself with good humor. “Hey, you're the detective.”

  “Fair enough. Anyway, you're probably not wrong.”

  “That your professional opinion, Mr. Baker?”

  “As a matter of fact - ” They stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to change. Beau's eyes were bright in the cozy yellow street light. “ - yes.”

  Ethan wanted to kiss him, badly. He was pretty sure Beau felt the same. Why else ask him out for dinner? And then to keep the night going with a walk? Ethan decided that he'd ask Beau to come home with him. He was just putting the words together when Beau beat him to the punch.

  “Ethan,” he said, turning toward him.

  “Yeah?”

  “You probably have work in the morning - ”

  “I don't.”

  “Ah. In that case, would you like to see my room?”

  Ethan felt his chest swell with happiness even as his groin tightened in anticipation. With the biggest smile he could muster, he shook his head and said, “No.”

  Beau paused. The light had changed and the people around them were all moving, crossing to the other side where a red hand blinked alongside the countdown.

  “It's a hotel, Beau. I've seen it.” Finding Beau's hand with his own, Ethan gave it a squeeze. “Come on. I know a better place.”

  Chapter 4

  Ethan took Beau home with him and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He poured them a couple drinks and met Beau in the the front room. He was looking at the painting over the sofa.