Page 7 of Red, White, and BearCat Blue

I knew Mickey’s upbringing was as different and as opposite as it could be from the one I’d had, though. He came from a big, loud family and had several brothers and sisters. The fact that they all lived in New York shouldn’t matter. I knew he got invites to family gatherings all the time. His parents reached out constantly, but probably because of our schedule and our jobs, Mickey didn’t fly back home very often. When he did, though, he always came back with a big smile on his face.

I took a long draw on my pint, setting it down on a coaster. Mickey was watching the other diners and when he turned back to me, he had a questioning look in his eyes. He leaned across the table, silently beckoning me close. I leaned in. “What?”

“Do you think all these people are tourists?”

There was a huge mix of people. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, laughing with friends and family. A big table in the middle of the room had three kiddies who were out of their chairs, running in circles around the table while their parents ignored them. I glanced back at Mickey and nodded.

“Definitely…and they’re all ‘ere in Sin City to lose their ‘ard earned money and let their kids make a general nuisance of themselves.”

Mickey chuckled and then lifted his beer. “So, do you want to go out after this, or just head back to the hotel?”

I smiled around the lip of my beer. “I know of a gay club if ya want.”

He scowled. “If it’s anything like that Dance Hall Boys, it’s not for me. Nash dragged me there more than once and I never saw the appeal.”

“So, you’ve said. We’ll check this one out. If ya don’t like it, then we’ll go back to the ‘otel.”

“I dunno. You hate clubs too. Why would we even go? Have you been there before?”

I shook my head. “No, but I ‘eard it’s nice.”

“Do you think it’s anything like Dance Hall Boys?” He sounded worried.

I shrugged, chuckling. “Don’t know. I’ve never been there.”

“Okay. I guess.”

He still looked reluctant as I flagged down our server. She dropped off our check, and I pulled out some money to pay. When I saw Mickey pull out his wallet, I waved at him. “This is my treat, mate. Ya were nice enough to come with me on this trip, so it’s the least I can do.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Mars.”

I drove us down to Froot Loop, the part of town where most of the gay bars in Vegas were located, pulling into the driveway for The Garage and parking.

Mickey let out a bark of laughter the minute he spotted the big, bold sign above the door. The façade of the place was designed to look just like a garage with posters in the windows promising Happy Hour nightly drink specials at discounted prices.

I glanced over as I shut off the car. “What are ya braying about?”

“Of course, you’d pick out a gay bar called The Garage.”

I smiled. “Cars are my mothership. Get used to it, Mickey.”

As soon as we entered the bar, the first thing I noticed was how much fun the guys were having. Indoor and outdoor seating with a long bar packed with punters. We found a table and as we sat down, we were immediately greeted by a tasty-looking waiter wearing a big smile.

“Hi, fellas.” He handed us menus. “Drink specials are here,” he said, pointing, “and the food is great. My name is Gilroy. Can I get you anything to start?”

Mickey and I perused the specials for a second before both ordering more pints. When he walked away, I admired the curve of his little bubble bum as I felt a stirring in my groin.

“See something you like?”

I glanced at Mickey to find him wearing a silly grin and couldn’t help smiling back. “Nice arse, that’s all.”

Mickey chuckled then looked around again. “I didn’t expect a sports bar.”

I nodded. “Me either, but I like what I see so far.”

“More of a place to relax after work than to actually pick up a guy,” he said, sounding relieved.

I nodded. “Yeah.” I glanced down at our menu before looking back up. “Ya gonna order food?”