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Tyler nodded. A cloth floated in the bowl. He dipped his hands in, wrung it out and patted it along the edge of his stump. It felt great, as he had known it would. He smiled at the guy. “Thanks, man.”
The guy smiled in turn. “I’m Finn Austen.”
Tyler held out his hand. “Tyler Lockhart.”
“Nice to meet you, Tyler. Have you got any pain relief?”
Tyler shook his head. It was a sore point, no pun intended. He was scared shitless of taking opiates, because he had seen other guys hooked on them.
“I can offer you a couple of Tylenol?”
“That would be wonderful, Finn. Thank you.”
“No problem. And to drink? We have some iced tea.”
“That sounds great.” Tyler would need to check the coins in his pocket, but hopefully he could stretch to that.
“Coming right up.” Tyler watched him walk back to the counter. Another guy came out of the kitchen at that moment and they exchanged a few words. He was a young man, ten or fifteen years younger than Finn with cropped black hair and a lip-ring, wearing a T-shirt with a heavy metal band’s logo on, someone Tyler liked to listen to. It made him remember long ago nights in sweaty mosh-pits, the music making him feel so alive. Now if he wanted to go to a gig, he guessed he’d have to have a seat, in the disabled access. He wouldn’t trust the prosthesis to hold him up in a rough environment.
He wet the cloth again and tucked it around his stump. A bell rang over the door and Tyler lowered his head as a tall man entered. He didn’t want a stranger staring as he walked past the booth. Once the guy had passed though, Tyler followed his muscular figure to the counter. He wore a sheriff’s uniform. Anxiety fluttered through him. He didn’t want to meet the local law enforcement for fear the silver fox back at the house had already asked the guy to throw him off his property.
To his surprise, the guy leaned right over the counter and kissed Finn on the lips. Finn smiled, put a hand up to stroke the guy’s cheek. They were comfortable lovers, their body language told Tyler that. He felt embarrassed and looked away. Of course someone as physically blessed as Finn would have a significant other, even if Tyler hadn’t expected that someone to be a man. He glanced up as Finn approached the table once more. He placed the glass of iced tea down along with a small saucer that held two white pills.
“Thanks, man.” Tyler saw the cop had approached behind Finn. And he wasn’t any old deputy, but the head honcho, the gold star on his chest told Tyler that. He groaned inwardly, wanting to be anywhere but here.
“This is Brandon,” Finn said, putting his hand on the sheriff’s arm. “He can give you a ride home when you’re feeling better.”
Oh God, no. A ride home to the house he was illegally squatting in, for the silver fox to see and tell the sheriff all about Tyler refusing to leave? Stop calling him the fucking silver fox, he’s an asshole!
He tried his best to smile at Brandon as he held out his hand. “Tyler.” He didn’t give his last name, as though somehow that would keep him off the sheriff’s radar.
If Finn was handsome, Brandon was startlingly so. Christ, what was with the hot men in this town? If Tyler hadn’t been so incapacitated, his cock might have started to take notice. He was all chiseled jaw and dark, soulful eyes, around six-two with that worked out body straining his uniform.
“Hi there, Tyler.” He shook Tyler’s hand with a cop type of grip. “Sorry to hear you’re having some problems.” He barely glanced at Tyler’s stump. Tyler wondered if Finn had had the scar before he met Brandon or if it had happened while they were together.
“Thanks.”
“You take your time. I’m going to grab a coffee. When you’re ready to go, just shout.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I think I’ll be okay,” Tyler said. Why the fuck did you say that? If you have to put that prosthesis back on today, you’ll end up crawling home on your hands and knees.
“Sure,” Brandon said, looking like he didn’t believe him. “See how you go.” He smiled. It wasn’t exactly a smile that meant Brandon felt sorry for him, more that he understood that Tyler was trying to act the big man. Either way, he suddenly wanted to cry. Brandon walked back to the counter and before following, Finn smiled at him too and that was Tyler’s eyes full to the brim. He lowered his head, blinking back tears furiously, giving a little moan when he heard the bell ring again.
Please, nobody else. I can’t face anybody else seeing me like this. But the day was only going to go from bad to worse. He glanced up and locked gazes with the goddamn silver fox.
The guy looked startled when he saw him. His gaze fell to Tyler’s cold cloth covered stump and he looked away again quickly. He approached the counter and sat down. The young lad with the black hair moved up to serve him, then spoke in a voice so loud, the whole diner couldn’t help but overhear.
“Oh my God, you’re Holden Maddison.”
Tyler stared. Was the guy some kind of movie star? He didn’t hear the low reply the man gave. Maybe he was trying to keep his fame under wraps. Tyler had seen him somewhere before after all.
“I have one of your books right here.” The lad pulled out a paperback from under the counter and waved it at Holden.
Ah, that was where. He was a writer and now Tyler knew where he’d seen him. He’d been all over the news for the last few weeks. His agent had defrauded him of thousands of dollars and disappeared off the face of the earth. The last he heard, Holden Maddison had disappeared too. Now Tyler knew where to. To reappear as his landlord. He wondered if the tabloids knew. It sounded like a good bargaining chip.
“Will you sign it for me, please,” the young man begged. “To Jordan.”
Still he didn’t hear the soft answer the guy gave. He watched Holden take the pen with his left hand and scribble in the front of the book.
