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H
ARRY
K
LINGER
stood just outside the doorway to his domain at Bronco’s. He managed the business end, while Bull was the real face of the place. He was also head of security and someone none of the patrons wanted to deal with. Bull had been his friend for years, and he trusted the man completely. They had had each other’s backs often enough, and he had no doubt they would again. A friend—no, brother—like that was worth more than gold in Harry’s opinion.

“We’ve got trouble,” Bull said as he somehow materialized next to him. Harry had no idea how a man as huge and distinctive as Bull could possibly go anywhere unnoticed, but he managed to pull it off quite often.

Harry turned and followed Bull’s gaze. At first he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. It was a table crowded with men, like every other one in the packed club. The music pounded and throbbed through the seductively lit space, the energy of the place pulsing through him. That was what he loved about this business—the energy and vitality he felt when he was out here.

“Watch the man at the far side of the table,” Bull said.

Harry turned, taking his gaze off the place it always seemed to wander of its own accord. For almost two years now, he had watched Bull’s partner’s friend Tristan, one of the fabulous four, as he thought of them. “What am I looking for?” he asked absently.

“Just watch,” Bull said.

Harry shifted so he could see better across the crowded club and noticed a man he hadn’t seen before: dark hair, eyes, and beard, smoldering good looks. If Harry were closer, maybe seated at that table, he figured he’d smell the raw scent of masculine sexuality over the alcohol, sweat, smoke, and musk that pervaded the club. Harry pushed that out of his companionship-, gratification-, and love-starved brain and returned to the task at hand. Men shifted around the table, almost like the dance the men did on the floor of the club. It wasn’t until one of the men on the right side moved back for a few seconds that Harry saw what Bull meant. The man on the left side of the dark-haired man at the center clasped his hand. Harry knew in that instant what he was seeing. Money was placed in the dark-haired man’s hand, and the hand disappeared under the table. He couldn’t see it, but he knew what was going on. The hand reappeared again, another touch, and then the man moved away and another took his place.

“What do you want to do?” Harry asked. “He needs to go, and be taught a lesson.”

“I know.” Bull stepped forward, and Harry placed his hand on his shoulder to stop him. Tristan approached the table.

“What the hell is he doing?” Harry asked Bull. “Do you think he knows him?” Fury rose inside to the point he could barely think. “I wonder if that guy is some associate of that scumbag ex of his.”

Tristan approached the table but didn’t sit down, which was a relief. He stood at the end, partially blocking Harry’s view.

“I’m going to break this up and put the fear of God into that bastard,” Bull said. He took two steps, just as Bull’s partner, Zach, made his way over to Tristan. Bull stopped, and Harry heard him swear under his breath. Zach and Bull were inseparable, and Harry saw the tension in Bull’s body ramp up to unbelievable heights. Bull would move heaven and earth to protect Zach; he’d done it before.

Zach took Tristan’s arm and pulled him away. He turned and appeared to say something. The swarthy man’s expression changed to a lusty leer, and Bull was halfway across the floor before Harry could say a word. He followed behind Bull, signaling to the other bouncers that they had better get their asses over there. Bull was usually coolheaded and generally thought things through, but when it came to Zach, he was as growly as hell and could be vicious if he thought anyone would hurt the man he loved more than life itself.

Zach moved away from the table, with Tristan in tow, as Harry hurried to catch up with Bull. The big man stormed toward the table, the tide of men in the club parting like the Red Sea.

“Excuse me!” Bull boomed over the music as he reached the edge of the table.

“Can I help you?” the Hispanic-looking man asked as he leaned back, looking completely unconcerned. This guy was either really cocky or as stupid as they came. Bull leaned over the table and grabbed the men to either side of the man, lifted them off their seats, and pulled them away.

“You two, get out of the club now before I take you out of here in a trash can.” Bull’s growl stopped both of them from reacting.

“It’s all right. He and I will just have a little talk,” the man said to the other two men, who looked like bodyguards.

“Okay, Carlos,” said one of the two men Bull was still holding on to. Bull released them, and they walked off toward the front door, with bouncers following them.

“The rest of you—beat it,” Bull said to the other customers at the table.

The boys who had gathered around for their chance to do “business” bade a hasty retreat, and soon it was just the three of them: Bull, Harry, and Carlos. The man didn’t seem surprised or nervous in the least.

“So what can I do for you gentlemen?” Carlos asked. Bull placed both hands on the table and leaned over it but said nothing. Harry stood back and watched. Carlos blinked, the first sign of nervousness, and Bull pulled the table away, swung around, and set it down before stalking into the vacated space. “I was only doing a little business.”

“Not in my club you don’t,” Bull said.

“Your club? I hardly think—”

Bull reached out and yanked Carlos to his feet, then pulled him into a nearby corner. “Yes, my club. I own it, and your kind of business is never welcome here.” Bull shook him sharply. “And don’t you dare insult me by making an offer to cut me in on your action, or I’ll shake you until your head flies off. You got me? This is a clean club, and people like you are not welcome here.” Carlos tried to pull away. Bull shifted, grabbed Carlos’s arm, and wrenched it behind his back. “Try anything, and I won’t just break your arm, I’ll make sure you never use it again. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes,” Carlos gritted out. Bull released him, and he staggered slightly. Bull shoved him, probably to keep him off-balance.

“Good. My bouncers are all over this club, and nothing happens here without me knowing about it. So I suggest you leave while you can still walk, and tell your friends not to show their faces in here.”

Carlos straightened his shirt, most likely to hide the fact that he was trying not to shake in his shoes.

“We will know if you try to come back,” Harry said as Carlos tried to muscle his way around him as an intimidation tactic. He’d seen many men try it over the years. Harry let Carlos get almost past, and then he moved his foot slightly, catching the edge of Carlos’s shoe and sending him splaying out onto the dance floor. It was raining outside, so the floor was covered in a sheen of water and dirt. “Thanks for helping to clean my floor,” Harry cracked when Carlos came up with his designer clothes covered in dirt.

Bull moved to stand beside him. Harry smiled as Carlos tried his best to wrap himself in his dignity, but he simply looked stupid covered in the mud that had been tracked in. “Go,” Bull said, “or I’ll have my men throw you out.”

Carlos turned, and the men on the dance floor parted for him, staring and chuckling at him as he went. Once he passed, they went right back to their dancing without missing a beat from the pulsing music.

“You know he’ll be trouble at some point,” Harry said once Bull had put the table back in place. A group of men came over, and Bull motioned toward the table. They sat and thanked him before smiling and quickly losing themselves in conversation.

“Possibly.” Bull turned back to him. “But he’ll also think twice before asking for trouble from us.” He motioned toward the table off to the far side of the dance floor, where Tristan and his friends sat chatting away. “Let’s find out what this is all about.”

Harry followed Bull through the crowd. As they approached the table, Zach slipped off his stool and bounded over to Bull, then practically jumped into his arms. Bull grinned. Harry was always jealous of his best friend when he saw that smile because it reminded him of how happy Bull was and how empty his own life had become.

“Zach, what were you and Tristan doing with that dealer?” Bull’s question came out harsh, and Zach flinched before turning his smile on Bull. Harry loved how Zach could make his usually scary, intimidating business partner melt like an ice cream cone in July.

“It’s my fault,” Tristan answered from next to Zach. “I recognized Carlos and went over to say hello. It wasn’t until I got over there that I remembered he was a friend of Eddie’s, and then I was in trouble because I knew why he was here and what he was doing.” Tristan gulped the pink drink from his martini glass, emptying it before placing it back on the table. “I see people I know all over town, and they’re all guys I met when Eddie and I were together.”

“Didn’t the police find him?” Harry asked. Damn, Tristan looked so down. All Harry wanted to do was pull the smaller man into his arms and then take him into the back room, or better yet, home with him, and make him forget everything about Eddie Menendez. Hell, he’d do his best to make Tristan forget his own name if that would put a smile on his face.

“Yeah, but apparently he got a high-powered lawyer, and the charges seemed to vanish, along with most of the evidence, so they had to let him go.” Tristan sighed and turned back to the table, staring down at the top. One of the other members of the fab foursome, Jeremy, put his arm around Tristan and drew him into a one-armed hug. “So I keep expecting him to show up.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Harry asked, worried but with more heat than he intended. Tristan flinched and leaned closer to Jeremy.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Tristan straightened up and slipped off his stool. “Maybe I should go.” He walked around to Kevin, the fourth member of the group. “I’m going to go back to the apartment. You guys have fun, and I’ll see you later.”

Harry felt like a heel. He hadn’t meant to sound like he was laying into him. He was worried about him. Harry had been watching Tristan since shortly after Bull and Zach had begun seeing each other and it became apparent that the club was the new permanent hangout for the fab foursome. There was something about the dark-haired beauty with the soulful eyes, pouty lips, and compact little body that Harry just knew was packed with energy. It came out whenever he danced. Harry glanced at Bull and sighed. “I wasn’t angry with you or anyone.”

“Yeah,” Zach said. He sprung off his stool and went over to Tristan. “You aren’t ruining anything. I only came over because I saw he was bad news and figured I’d help get you out of there.” Zach took Tristan by the hand and tugged him back around the table to his seat. “There’s nothing to worry about.” Zach waited until Tristan sat back on his stool before going to stand next to Bull and putting an arm around his waist. At least he tried. Bull was built like his namesake, and Zach’s arm was only so long. If Harry had to guess when he saw Bull startle just a little, Zach had most likely slipped his hand into Bull’s back pocket and was copping a good feel. “Bull and Harry saw what was happening and handled it. I doubt they’ll be back.” Zach looked up at Bull with a mixture of love and wonderment. That look said it all, and it pulled a smile from Bull.

Harry wanted what they had so damn bad his chest ached like someone had reached in and ripped out his heart. Well, if he were truthful, someone had once done just that. But he pushed those feelings away. They were useless right now, and he was at the club—keeping his mind on the job was what was important right now.

“You don’t know these guys.”

“You know all you have to do is signal Bull, me, or any one of the bouncers, and we’ll take care of anything threatening,” Harry said.

“See?” Zach said with a smile and then stepped away from Bull. “I need to finish my drink, and then you and I are going to light this place up.” The energy from those few words was enough to light the club for a month.

“I don’t know if I’m up for it anymore,” Tristan said.

“Sure you are,” Zach countered. “It’s exactly what you need, and you know it.”

“I’ll go get another round—it’s my turn—and then we can all dance,” Kevin volunteered and began threading his way across the floor. Harry watched as Kevin was waylaid by a group of guys. They opened their little dance pod, and Kevin slipped right in, grinding against one and then the other of the men, obviously having the time of his life. Harry liked how Kevin threw himself into everything he did. Although sometimes he threw himself into certain things a little too much, especially guys. Kevin was into men, lots of them… and having a good time. Harry knew there was nothing wrong with that. He’d done that at one time in his life, but he wasn’t interested in that now. What he wanted more than anything was the man who stared broodingly at his now empty glass.