RR-CDA (4 page)

When he should have been minding the drunk kid, Cole had been staring at Owen’s denim-clad ass.

No man should look that good in jeans. But as Owen had leaned over to say something to the taxi driver, Cole’s gaze had instantly shifted down, and he couldn’t look away. The next thing he knew,
bam
, his ass was on the ground.

No, being here for breakfast was a terrible idea. He was on the rebound from Steven, and drawn to a man who was simply offering him comfort and support. A good-looking man with a firm ass and a killer smile, but still. Owen probably felt terrible that Cole was suddenly single given the time of year. This was nothing more than a pity date.

Hell, this wasn’t even a date!

He should really go.

He reached out and pulled the front door of McGregor’s open. “Hello?”

A loud bang preceded Owen’s arrival from the back room. “Right on time.”

Such a bad idea. “I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

“I’m many things, but guilty is rarely one of them.” He flung a towel over his shoulder. “I was just setting up the back room for our meal. Figured the staff room was a cleaner spot than the actual bar.”

“Thanks for that. And duly noted for my next visit.”

“How’s your face? I’m surprised you’re not sporting more of a bruise.”

Cole reached up and touched the sore spot. “I suspect it will be nice and purple by the end of the day.”

Owen winced. “I was hoping it wasn’t that bad. Come on, I have breakfast ready to go.”

Much like he had the night before, Cole gave Owen’s ass a once-over when he turned and walked away. At least this time there wasn’t a drunk to rudely interrupt his ogling. A pair of ass cheeks really shouldn’t fit that perfectly into a pair of jeans. The denim clinging in all the right places and loose around the backs of his thighs—

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got us a selection of stuff.”

Cole snapped his gaze up half a second before Owen turned around to face him. It was bad form to be staring, especially when he didn’t know the first thing about the other man. While he might not have an issue with Cole being gay, that didn’t mean Owen wanted his advance either. Better to keep his eyes up and his libido in check.

Not that he had any interest in being with someone else. The end result would be nothing positive for anyone involved. The pain of Steven leaving was still far too raw.

“This okay? I can always order something else from the place down the street if you want.”

Cole realized his brain had gone into overthinking mode, which meant his mouth stopped working. The cute, confused expression on Owen’s face was doing little to help get his mind back on the matter at hand. Tearing his gaze from Owen’s frown—God, it shouldn’t be that cute—he looked at the spread on the table.

“Wow.” There were scones, coffee, eggs, sausages, bacon, hash browns, and something that looked suspiciously like asparagus. “I think I’ll manage to find something I like. I hope this didn’t cost too much.”

“I had a pile of groceries I needed to use up, and I love to cook. I live, well, really frigging close, so it wasn’t a problem making this and getting it here.” Owen grinned, pulled out a chair, and dusted it off with the towel. “Your seat, sir.”

It wasn’t flirtatious as much as he was trying to be funny. Still, Cole’s body reacted to the gesture, making it uncomfortable to sit. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“It’s all good. I don’t take the time I should to cook properly these days.” Owen fell into his seat and grabbed the bacon. “Mostly prepackaged crap when I’m home. Not that I’m home much. I spend most of my time down here at the bar.”

“I bet it takes a lot to run this place.” A tremor raced through Cole as he reached for the eggs. This was bad. Owen was a nice guy who was simply trying to make up for the unfortunate event last night. Sure, his smiles made his eyes sparkle, and with his shirtsleeves rolled up, Owen’s forearm muscles danced. Neither of which was an invitation to get ogled. Cole cleared his throat. “A lot of time and effort.”

“My dad did it for years. I’m trying to live up to his reputation. At any rate, it’s better than my last job.” Owen licked the back of his spoon and winked.

Cole shivered and dropped way too many hash browns onto his plate. “What was that?”

“I worked for an internet security company. Lots of bullshit on a daily basis. Running a bar is heaven in comparison.” Owen poured himself some coffee before holding the pot over Cole’s mug. “Want some?”

The last thing he needed was caffeine running through his veins. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Owen filled his mug, set the pot down, and leaned forward. “Are you okay?”

Cole looked up into his eyes and was blown away by the concern he saw there. This man hardly knew him. As far as Owen knew, Cole was nothing more than a patron who’d stepped in to help him out. The bartender had no reason to take an interest in him or his problems. It wasn’t like Owen was hitting on him. He was fairly certain that Owen was straight, or at least straight-acting. Right?

Maybe.

Though . . . breakfast. And wow, those jeans really were tight.

No. The last thing Cole needed to do was unburden himself on an almost complete stranger, no matter how hot or concerned they were.

He opened his mouth to say the expected,
I’m fine, just having a bad week
, but the words that came out instead surprised him.

“I seem to get attached to the wrong men.” There was nothing about that statement that would end well. And yet, he kept going. “I’d been dating Steven for six months. He was younger than me, just coming out of a serious relationship and looking for something new. I knew it was a bad idea, rebound romances usually are, but there was just something about him . . .”

He’d been staring directly into Owen’s eyes. The flash of pity in his brown eyes hurt Cole, but then it was to be expected. How else would someone feel for a man who’d just admitted to being an idiot? Still, no matter how proper the response was, that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Don’t feel bad for me.” He ran his hand through his hair before grabbing the coffee mug. “At least Steven didn’t cheat on me before he walked away. I’ve survived worse things.”

He had for sure. Steven was only the latest in a string of failed relationships. Not to mention his recent rash of bad days at the office. Owen didn’t need any of that dumped on his lap. If anything, this was an opportunity for Cole to forget about all the bullshit in his life and simply enjoy a nice meal with a good-looking man a few weeks before Christmas.

He mustered up a grin and reached for a scone. “Enough of that. Tell me about the bar business. I kept picturing the owner being some old guy who was world-weary.”

At the change in topic, Owen sat a bit straighter, his gaze slipping to the food on his plate. “That would be my dad.”

Shit.
“Sorry, if you’d rather not—”

“No, it’s fine.” Owen smiled again, but it wasn’t as bright. “He had a stroke a few years ago. I took over running the bar so it would stay in the family. I think knowing I was here keeping things going for him helped in his recovery.”

“So he’s better?” Cole didn’t know the first thing about strokes, other than they were no good.

“As well as he can be. He still has his ups and downs, and wants to be involved with the business. The stress of running the bar is too much for him, so I try and limit what he does. It’s a fine line between respecting the insights of a man who started this place, and keeping him in the dark so he doesn’t get sick again.”

They both paused and took a breath. Yeah, this was far more awkward than Cole ever intended it to be. For the first time since he moved into his condo and discovered McGregor’s, he really looked at Owen. He had never thought for a moment that the bartender who always greeted everyone with the same level of joviality had problems of his own.

Time to get the conversation back to neutral ground so they could both relax. “So, do you think the Leafs will make it to the play-offs?”

“You’re funny.” Owen laughed. “Oh wait, you were seriously asking.”

Cole stretched his legs out. “Sure. They’ve had a strong start this season.”

Owen crossed his arms and shifted, bringing his foot against the side of Cole’s leg. It wasn’t a come-on, not exactly. Rather than shift away, Cole kept his gaze locked on Owen’s and held still.

Owen picked up his coffee mug and took a long sip. “Yes, but we know how it will end.”

“Heartbreak and tears,” they both said as one, and laughed.

This was the first time in ages that Cole had felt comfortable at verbal back-and-forth with another person. Steven and he had had to work to find things to talk about. Despite only a minor age gap, they were at very different stages in their lives. Not to mention that Steven hated all things sports, which had never boded well on hockey night. He’d had to DVR more games than he would have liked.

Owen was a forward-thinking businessman, someone Cole had an easier time relating to as he was in sales and marketing himself. They’d bounced lots of business ideas between them in the past. Their conversations, though brief, had always clicked. This morning was no different. They drifted from hockey to politics to the sad state of movies. Before he realized it, two hours had passed and the food was all but gone.

He cleaned the egg goo off of his plate with his last bite of bread. “God, I’m going to explode.”

“Happy to help.” Owen grinned, leaned forward, and braced his forearms on the edge of the table. “Since your plans for the holidays got ruined, what are you going to do now?”

Owen wasn’t quite meeting his gaze any longer. It wasn’t an
I don’t really want him to tell me
look, more of an
I’m trying not to sound too interested
look. Cole frowned, and for the first time since they’d sat down he wasn’t sure where exactly the conversation was going.

“I’m sure my parents will take pity on me.” He’d already called his mom to give her the bad news. She’d extended the invitation for him to join them before he’d even finished telling her about the breakup. It wasn’t exactly the sort of consolation prize he was interested in, but it was better than being alone. “Nothing like dry turkey and too much wine to pass the time. Though that will just be Christmas day. I have time off this week so I’ll probably sleep in and do some Christmas shopping.”

Owen cocked his head to the side, and gave a little nod. “I see.” Then he cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter. For a moment Cole thought he was going to stand, but instead he looked him straight in the eyes. “What if I had an alternative to offer? Something a little extra for you on your days off?”

Cole flexed his hands, fighting the urge to push away from the table. He knew what Owen was about to offer, even without hearing the proposal. “I think that would be a bad idea.”

“You didn’t even hear my suggestion.” Damn it, he sounded disappointed. And he was pouting.

“I’m sure it involves hanging out with you. Maybe going to supper or a show. Or even to your place for a drink. Then there’d probably be sex or something to help me forget my troubles.”

Owen chuckled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Are you gay or bi?” He cocked an eyebrow, knowing exactly the look he was projecting. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Bi.”

“When was the last time you were with a guy?”

“University.” Owen frowned. “I think. There was one night a few years ago when something might have happened. Not sure because tequila. Lots of tequila.”

“Look, I’ve just gone through one rebound relationship, the last thing I need is to get into a pity-fuck situation. You’re an attractive guy, but you don’t need my shit dumped on you.” He pushed away from the table, as something that felt strangely like regret curled in his chest. “Thanks for this, though. I’m glad I took you up on it. It’s a nice reminder that there are still decent people out there.”

On impulse, he stuck out his hand for Owen to shake when he stood and moved to join him. A few uncomfortable moments passed before Owen got to his feet and accepted the handshake. “Anytime.”

What happened next was something Cole was far from expecting. One moment they were shaking hands, the next Owen pulled him close. Their mouths were only inches away, making it difficult for him to breathe. He was surrounded by the scent of the other man, the heat from his body. Even without touching, he could feel Owen’s strength, the muscles that lurked beneath the tight shirt and well-fitted jeans.

He sucked in a tiny breath, which only gave him another burst of Owen. “What are you doing?” His words were little more than a whisper.

“Shaking your hand.” Owen tightened his hold slightly. “What does it look like?”

Cole should have pulled away, protested, something to put the other man in his place. He didn’t.

Owen leaned in closer, but somehow kept his lips from brushing Cole’s. They were close enough in height that it would have been easy to kiss. A slight tilt of the head and
bam
, contact. But that wasn’t happening. He shallowed his breathing, not wanting to become overwhelmed by the sheer potency of the bartender. It wasn’t exactly working.

In fact, he was failing miserably.

“I hate to see you unhappy.” Owen spoke the words softly, but they penetrated hard. “I’ve watched you many nights at the bar. You smile, but you’ve never seemed . . . right. Happy.”

He had no words to respond.

“I won’t stand by while someone is miserable, especially this time of year.”

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on you.”

For a heartbeat, Cole thought Owen would give in to the blinding heat that had flared between them and kiss him. He even held his breath as his lids started to slide shut. But as quickly as the moment came, it was shattered when Owen took a step back and released his hand.

“Asshole,” Cole whispered, his body shaking from the encounter.

“Maybe. But I get the impression my advances aren’t exactly wanted.”

He couldn’t be certain, but it sounded as though there was an unspoken
yet
at the end of that sentence. He hated that the other man could already read him. “I better go.”