Bad to Be Good - Andrew Grey Page 0,2

a combination of tourists and locals. A few of the people he saw all the time came in and took familiar places at the bar. Richard pulled beers and made drinks, started tabs, and took payment, the cash settling in his hand before going to the register.

That had been one of the hardest things to remember. In Detroit it was expected that he would skim a certain amount off the top. Richard and Gerome were masters of it, and he’d always been conscientious about returning a growing amount to Harold, which had kept him happy.

“Happy Wednesday,” Tim, one of the regulars, said, and Richard’s mind skipped a track for a second. He had completely forgotten, and now some of the gloom lifted from inside him.

Richard filled an order from Andi and continued his tasks with half an eye on the front door as he worked.

He knew when it was six o’clock because Daniel came into the bar.

Richard had no idea what it was about this slim man with intense brown eyes and surfer-length black hair hanging to just below his ears that drew him, but as long as Daniel was in the bar, Richard knew exactly where he was at all times, even when his back was turned.

Daniel took a place at the bar.

“You want your usual?” He was already pulling Daniel’s beer without really thinking about it. Once Daniel nodded, he placed the beer on the scarred bar surface in front of him.

“The fish and chips, please,” Daniel said in his soft voice. Then he flashed him a smile. Richard was determined not to allow his heart rate to rise, but the fucking thing did it anyway. He leaned over the bar just a little, almost as though Daniel had a gravity of his own and Richard was caught in it.

“Of course. I’ll put your order in right away,” Richard said and swallowed hard, licking his lips as their gazes locked for the fraction of a second. Then Richard remembered where they were and that this was not a gay club in Detroit, but the Cormorant on Longboat Key, Florida.

“Thank you,” Daniel said without turning away. “I really appreciate that.”

Richard had to break whatever was going on between them. Not that he wasn’t excited, but damn, if he wasn’t careful, someone was going to come in, and if they joined him behind the bar, there was no damned way they could miss how much Daniel got under his skin.

“Can I get another beer?” Mike asked from a few seats down.

Richard pulled himself away, poured the beer, and put in Daniel’s order through the system. At least he could breathe for a few seconds.

Not that this attraction and the innocent flirting he did with Daniel on occasion were ever going to lead anywhere. They couldn’t, not in a million years. It didn’t matter how many times Richard wondered just what that lithe, compact body looked like under those worn jeans that hugged him like a second skin or the dark blue polo shirt with the tiny hole right at the collar where it sometimes rubbed at Daniel’s neck.

Richard, Terrance, and Gerome were only here and stayed alive because they were doing their best to abide by the rules of the Witness Protection Program, and that meant they all needed to stay out of the public eye, not draw attention to themselves, and definitely not tell anyone anything about their past. But more than that, they had had to plead to be allowed to stay together. If they messed up, they wouldn’t just be relocated, but separated as well. Sure, Richard could have a fling with Daniel and then they could go on their separate ways, but Richard knew that if he got a single taste of him, he’d want more. Daniel was like potato chips. One would never be enough.

He checked on Daniel’s order with the kitchen and refilled glasses, telling himself he was going to ignore Daniel and do his job, keeping himself busy until he left. Daniel had a routine almost as regular as clockwork. Each Wednesday he came in a few minutes after six, had a beer, ordered fish and chips, and nursed his second beer until just before nine o’clock, when he said good night and left the bar. It had been that way since Richard’s first week on the job. Richard had tried to talk with him on occasion, and other than his name and a little small talk, he’d learned nothing about him. Richard