Page 23 of Redemption Ridge Vol II

Rueben leaned closer and whispered into Kee’s ears. His hazel eyes nearly took on cartoon character form again. Owen remembered licking the whoopie pie cream off Tyler’s ass and squirmed a little in his seat. He glanced over at Tyler to see if his mind had wandered there too, but his guy was too transfixed on the conversation across from them.

“See that dark-haired hottie in the bomber jacket at the end of the bar?” Rue asked, gesturing with his beer bottle.

“Yes,” Tyler and Keegan said at the same time.

Owen wanted to be annoyed or jealous, but Tyler’s rapt attention made him smile.

“That guy is like a lion,” Rueben said. “Big, brawny, and on the prowl.” Then, he pointed at the other end of the bar, where a slender blond in a pale blue cropped sweater smiled and flirted with the bartender. “And that’s his gazelle. Long, lean, and graceful. He’s drawn the eye of most men in this bar, and they either want to be him or fuck him.”

Tyler darted a quick glance at Owen, who shook his head. The guy was gorgeous, but he didn’t hold a candle to Tyler. The crop top looked great on the gazelle, but it would look ridiculous on him.

“He’s so beautiful,” Keegan said wistfully. “I never knew boys could wear sweaters like that. It looks so soft.”

“It does,” Rueben agreed. “We’re men, not boys, and we can wear whatever the hell we want to.” He held Keegan’s gaze until he nodded, then gestured at the bar. “And our lion across the way is currently wondering how the sweater will feel against him or how it would look on his bedroom floor.”

“You’re being mighty generous,” Owen interrupted. “Most bar hookups end up in a bathroom stall or in the back seat of someone’s car.” Three pairs of eyes swiveled in his direction, but only Tyler narrowed his. Owen shrugged and said, “I never said this was my first rodeo.”

Tyler huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes before returning his attention to Rueben, who narrated the cat-and-mouse show going on at the bar. The lion bought the gazelle a drink but remained on his stool. The gazelle gestured his thanks by holding up the glass, then flirted with the bartender and the guy sitting on the stool next to him.

“Why isn’t the lion pissed?” Keegan asked. “The gazelle accepted his drink and then ignored him.”

“Because a lion is a patient hunter,” Rueben said. “Keep watching.” He continued his play-by-play narrative as the gazelle cast furtive glances in the lion’s direction every few minutes to make sure he still had him on the hook. As soon as the seat next to the lion opened, the gazelle sauntered toward the lion with the drink he sipped suggestively through a straw. Even across the room, the lion’s interest was palpable as he devoured the gazelle with his gaze. The prey sat on the stool and swiveled toward the hunter, who placed his big, brawny hands on slender hips to pull him closer.

“Whew,” Keegan said, fanning his face adorably. “I want to have that kind of confidence someday.”

“And you will,” Rueben said, saluting him before taking a drink of his beer.

Owen darted a gaze in Tyler’s direction to judge his reaction, but his man’s attention was all on him. “What?”

Tyler leaned in and put his mouth to Owen’s ear. “You’re the lion.” Warm breath ghosted over his skin, making him shiver.

Owen rested his hand on Tyler’s thigh, wishing they were alone in his cabin. “Not always. Sometimes I want to pursue, and sometimes I like to be pursued.” It was similar to their conversation about sexual positions. “But I’d never be able to pull off a sweater like that.”

Tyler looked across the room, then back at him. “Is that something you’d want me to wear?”

Owen circled his thumb against Tyler’s jeans as he considered the question. Could he picture Tyler stretched across his bed wearing nothing but a crop top and a barely there pair of underwear? Absolutely. “I think the real question is whether you picture yourself in something like that. I only need you to be yourself, no matter what you choose to wear.”

He must’ve given the right answer because Tyler rewarded him with a kiss. This time, Tyler lingered, slipping his tongue inside Owen’s mouth. The boldness was a big surprise, and Owen forgot all about their tablemates until a new voice intruded—one that was familiar and panic inducing. Owen wanted to ignore the newcomer and continue kissing, but Tyler’s curiosity got the best of him. He reluctantly turned his attention to the conversation between Rueben, Keegan, and Kerry Freaking Hart. The latter was watching him with amused dark eyes.

Kerry darted his gaze between Owen and Tyler, a wry smile playing at his full lips. “Guess I know why I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Tyler snapped his head in Owen’s direction. Damn it. There was no way in hell Tyler missed the innuendo in Kerry’s voice. He’d insist on a conversation before they could play lion and gazelle back at the cabin.

“Good to see you, Kerry,” Owen lied.

“Uh-huh.” He came around the table, extended a hand to Tyler, and blasted him with his megawatt smile. His tan skin and dark stubble made a sharp contrast to his exceptionally white teeth. Kerry’s shoulders looked impossibly broad in his black leather jacket, and his faded jeans looked nearly threadbare in interesting places. Owen was pretty sure Tyler made an audible gasp when he swiveled his chair and got a look at Kerry up close.

“I’m Tyler.” He sounded dazzled as he shook Kerry’s hand, and it annoyed Owen to no end.

“I’m Kerry Hart.”

“Um, how do you know Owen?” Tyler asked.

Kerry shot him a bemused look before giving Tyler his full attention again. “Oh, you know. I’ve seen him here and there.”

Rueben snorted across the table, pulling everyone’s attention to him. Owen wasn’t sure if he should thank his friend or smack that knowing smirk right off his face.

“And why the hell aren’t you out with my cousin tonight?” Kerry asked Rueben.