Cut and Run 07 Touch & Geaux (6 page)

Zane felt himself blushing. He laughed and shook his head, meeting the man’s eyes with a strange rush of excitement. He realized he was enjoying the attention.

The man on stage gave him a rakish once over. “Congratulations on your face, darlin’,” he said, and then moved on, addressing a few other couples.

Zane watched him, his mouth ajar. He’d rarely experienced even a passing interest in anyone but his wife. What was it about this guy that had caught his eye?

It wasn’t long before a woman joined the man on stage. They made an attractive couple, with talent and chemistry. Their voices battled for supremacy at times, other times melding together smooth as silk. They sang, told jokes, and even performed some physical gags, almost like skits. And some of the sexiest costumes Zane had ever seen. He wasn’t watching the sensuous curves of the woman in her corset, though, but rather the solid lines of the man’s shoulders as he moved. When he offered his rendition of “House of the Rising Sun,” it raised the hairs on Zane’s arms. He couldn’t look away.

For the last act of the show, the woman sang a rousing patriotic burlesque number as the man weaved his way through the crowd with his bowler hat, collecting tips from the tables. He would clap along with the music as he moved from table to table, egging people on and getting the crowd involved. Zane’s eyes followed his movements. Over the last hour of watching him, Zane had decided that he was definitely attracted to the man. It didn’t strike him as odd, but it was distracting enough that he had to sit and dwell on it.

When the performer approached their table, Zane’s heart rate sped up. The man grinned at them, showing perfect teeth to go with his handsome face. He held his hat out, and Zane dug out a hundred dollar bill and tossed it in, trying to get a look at the guy’s eyes. He decided they were green.

The guy watched the bill flutter into his hat, then twirled the hat around his hand and displayed the empty inside of it to them, his expression scandalized as he discovered the seemingly disappearing bill. Becky laughed and Zane grinned, impressed with the man’s nimble fingers. The bill was nowhere to be found.

He bowed, then plopped the hat on his head and gave Zane a wink as he turned away.

Zane’s heart gave a skip and he cleared his throat, growing more flustered and confused by his reaction.

Becky leaned closer, biting her lip on a smile. “I just want you to know that if you ever wanted to hit that, I’d totally be behind it if I could watch.”

“Oh my God,” Zane muttered, but he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re blushing!”

Zane laughed harder. “Let’s just go.”

“I told you it’d be fun,” she said as she grabbed for her coat.

They were standing from their table when the woman who’d been performing came up behind them and put her hands on each of their shoulders to keep them in their seats.

“Did you enjoy the show?” she purred.

Becky beamed up at her. “Oh, it was so much fun.”

The woman gave her a gracious nod. “Would the two of you be interested in joining us for an after-party?”

“Oh,” Becky murmured, and Zane could see the blush creeping up her face now. She looked at Zane, her eyes wide.

Zane smiled at her, but underneath the amusement, he realized he was curious. Not necessarily tempted, but certainly curious. He shook his head though, chalking it up to too many hurricanes and too much debauched revelry for the night.

“Thank you, but . . . we’ll have to pass,” he said to the woman.

“Shame. Y’all come back any time.”

Becky held her breath until the woman was gone, and then she gasped and hit Zane in the chest. “I can’t believe that just happened!”

Zane laughed and took her elbow, helping her to her feet. “Let’s get you back to the hotel so I can take advantage of you.”

They were still laughing as they pushed through the heavy wooden door into the alley. Zane glanced to his right to see a dark figure leaning against the wall further down, a halo of blue smoke rising from his lips. His back was against the wall, his hips jutting out, one foot propped up against the brick. He made an enticing, sensual silhouette.

Zane nodded at him, recognizing the outline of the bowler hat. The man reached up to the bill of his hat, tipping it to them. Zane stared for another moment before he tore his eyes away and followed his wife out of the alley.

“You’ve never told me that story,” Ty said with a frown.

Zane shrugged. He’d never had occasion to tell it, he supposed. They were huddled around a tiny bar table in one of the quieter establishments, far away from Bourbon Street. The memories had surfaced clearer than he’d expected, but he was frustrated to realize that he couldn’t describe the man in the bowler hat. He only recalled the impression he’d left so many years ago, but Zane supposed that was enough.

He played with the ice in his glass of Coke, fighting the desire to pick up Kelly’s drink and throw it back. His one year sober chip was heavy in his pocket. Ty wasn’t drinking, putting up a united front with Zane so it wouldn’t be quite so hard to fight the urge to indulge. Zane appreciated the gesture, but he hated to tell Ty that no matter what he did, Zane still suffered.

“What year was it?” Ty asked.

“2003. Our tenth anniversary.”

“And you don’t remember what he looked like?”

“Couldn’t pick him out of a lineup.”

Ty nodded, looking almost relieved. Zane studied him for a moment, wondering why. Was it possible Ty knew the man he was talking about?

“So that was your first foray into the gay, huh?” Digger asked. They were far enough into the night that Ty and Zane were the only ones who were sober.

Zane laughed. “I wouldn’t call it a foray, but yeah, I guess. I didn’t often notice anyone other than my wife, actually. The first actual foray didn’t come until I was in Miami.”

“That was after your wife passed away, right?” Owen asked. Zane nodded. The man had been making an effort, Zane would give him that. He looked supremely uncomfortable whenever Ty and Zane displayed any kind of affection, but he was keeping his mouth shut.

The conversation drifted into an awkward lull. Zane glanced at Ty and patted his back pocket. He’d stopped at one point in the night and bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Ty hadn’t said anything, seeming to know that giving in to this one vice would help him fight the rest.

Zane excused himself and headed outside to light up. He leaned against the old brick in an alcove off the sidewalk, trying to clear his head and enjoying the cigarette just a little too much. He could tell Ty was feeling guilty that they were here, and part of that was knowing what the atmosphere would do to Zane. Ty hadn’t known what they were getting into down here, though, and none of the others knew Zane was an alcoholic. It was no one’s fault, but Zane was still growing annoyed by it all.

The longer he fought the pull of all that alcohol, the meaner he would get.

A man strolling along the sidewalk bumped into him as he leaned against the wall. Zane peered around the corner of the alcove as the stranger turned. His hand reached for Zane’s waist as if to steady himself.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t see you there,” he said, patting Zane’s side in an overly friendly gesture. His British accent was pleasant, and it immediately reminded Zane of Ty and the Christmas cruise they’d shared. He was handsome, with blue eyes that Zane could just barely see in the dim light, scruffy blond hair, and a smattering of rakish stubble. He had full lips that Zane’s eyes were immediately drawn to, and though he was half a foot shorter than Zane, he was fit and muscular.

Zane gave him a second look over, appreciating the view. He nodded. “Don’t worry about it.”

The man was patting his pockets, an unlit cigarette between his lips. He grinned. “I see you suffer the same vice.”

Zane held up his cigarette. “Guilty. I can’t say I’m suffering though.”

The stranger laughed. “Filthy habit, I’m told. And the company is often lacking. I can’t say that’s true tonight.” He stuck out his hand. “My name’s Liam. Liam Bell.”

Zane offered his hand and his name, finding himself growing warmer with the overt flirtation. Liam’s hand was rough and strong, and Zane liked the feel of it as he gripped it.

Liam continued to pat his pockets, a frown creasing his brow. “I seem to have misplaced my lighter; you wouldn’t mind if I nicked yours, would you?”

Zane placed his cigarette in his mouth and searched his pockets for his new lighter, but all he found was the pack of cigarettes and his wallet. He glanced around the brick wall to see if he’d set it down on a ledge, but it was nowhere to be found.

“Slippery buggers, aren’t they?”

Zane snorted. “If I hadn’t just lit up, I’d say my boyfriend stole it like he usually does.”

“Oh dear, that’s unfortunate.”

“What is? That he disapproves of smoking?”

“To say the least, yes. That you have a boyfriend at all is distressing.”

Zane choked on a laugh, growing warmer still.

“I’m sorry, I forget you Yanks are more coy than I’m accustomed to.”

Zane dismissed the apology with a wave. “It’s okay. I’m just sorry I don’t have a light now.”

Liam looked down at the cigarette in his hand and sighed. “Well. I suppose it won’t hurt me to miss one.”

Zane had a free pass for the weekend; he sure as hell wasn’t going to miss any. He was going to have to buy another lighter. He glanced over the crestfallen look on Liam’s face and shook his head. “We can’t have that.”

Liam arched an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. He placed his cigarette in his mouth and stepped closer to Zane. Zane had to duck his head to place the tips of both cigarettes together, and Liam’s hand came up to cup them, brushing Zane’s face. Zane put a hand on Liam’s shoulder, holding him still. He had to close his eyes, because being that close to the man made his stomach flutter, and no one had done that to him since the last time he’d kissed Ty.

He sucked on the cigarette, stoking it enough to heat Liam’s and start it burning. Liam stepped away, nodding his thanks as Zane’s hand dragged across his shoulder. He blew smoke away from Zane’s face and winked. “Best chance encounter I’ve had tonight.”

Zane laughed uncomfortably and licked his lips, putting the cigarette in his mouth again so he wouldn’t have to say anything.

They stood together, enjoying their cigarettes and the warm night, watching the different sorts of people passing. A man in a top hat and cape strolled by, clicking a walking stick on the pavement. A woman rode the other way on a bike, fairy wings and ribbons fluttering behind her.

“It’s an odd sort of place, yeah?” Liam commented. Zane laughed. “That’s a big son of a bitch right there,” Liam added. He nodded toward the intersection as a man walked across the street. Zane’s eyes followed. It was unusual to encounter people that made Zane feel small.

“Hey Zane!” Ty called from the pool of light around the door of the tavern.

Zane glanced toward him and waved. “Be there in a minute.”

“Your boyfriend?” Liam asked.

“Yeah.”

Liam glanced toward the light. Ty was joined by the others and they stood around talking and laughing, waiting for Zane. It was dark enough in Zane’s alcove for Liam and Zane to stare without fear of being seen ogling them.

Liam looked Zane up and down one last time. “Lucky him,” he drawled.

Zane glanced at him, surprised. Typically when people saw Ty, the response Zane expected was “lucky
you
.”

“Perhaps I’ll see you around again. Without your boyfriend,” Liam added, giving Zane another wink before he turned and made his way down the darkened sidewalk, away from the tavern.

Zane took a step to watch him walk away. He had no intention of ever being with someone else again, but he could see why Ty enjoyed a harmless flirtation now and then. It was quite the ego booster. And kind of a turn-on. He wanted to get Ty back to the hotel and into a bed now.
Thank you, stranger.
He pursed his lips, turning his back on Liam Bell’s retreating form and strolling toward Ty and the others.

Ty put a hand around his waist when he joined them. “Making friends?”

Zane shook his head. “Arranging a tryst for later tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” Ty asked, his tone as casual as Zane’s had been. “Well, what happens in NOLA . . . goes home with an STD.”

A scream tore through the night and interrupted their laughter. Zane wasn’t the first to push through the door of the bar, but he could see the commotion over the shoulders of the men in front of him. A woman was in hysterics, being held in place by two men who were trying to ascertain what had frightened her so much. She finally gave up on words and pointed to the tiny bathrooms at the back of the bar.

A red stiletto sat in the doorway, blocking the door open. Beyond, Zane could see one bare foot on the floor.

Nick forced his way through the crowd, reaching the bathrooms first. “I’m a cop, I’m a cop, move aside,” he kept repeating, until he’d almost cleared out the area. One look into the bathroom was all he needed. He didn’t even try to step in to check the girl. He turned to them and gave a curt nod. “Call it in,” he said. “And don’t let anybody leave.”