On a Roll by Beth Bolden (best historical biographies TXT) 📕

“Manhattan. Jackson’s special recipe,” Gabriel said. “I figured we could use something stronger than beer.”

“Trying to get me drunk?” Sean wondered, even if he knew that wasn’t true. Gabriel wouldn’t want to cheat to win; he’d want to win free and clear.

“Just thinkin’ that maybe we might do better if we were both a little more . . . relaxed?” Gabriel said, shooting Sean a lopsided, almost bashful smile. “Sometimes our edges are a little . . . sharp?”

“My edges are sharp?”

Gabriel leaned forward, and Sean swallowed hard, suddenly, painfully aware of how close he was. How little Sean would have to move to press their lips together. “Don’t even pretend you don’t know. You like cutting me, I can see it in your eyes. They really shine when you land a particularly good blow.”

“Oh.” Sean didn’t know what to say to that. It was true. He was sometimes a little bit too proud when he came up with a particularly excellent retort.

Gabriel settled back in his chair, cradling his glass in those big, capable hands. Sean had watched them, way too many times, rolling meatballs, stirring sauce, serving the best Italian food that he’d ever been privileged to try. Not that he would ever tell Gabriel that. The man was already egotistical enough. But Ren would sometimes sneak Sean something when he was having a bad day, and Gabriel’s delicious food never failed to make him smile.

“You should try your drink,” Gabriel said, taking a sip of his own. “I think you’ll like it.”

“You think I will?” Sean wondered. “Or Jackson thinks I will?” He lifted the glass to his lips, and felt the smell of strong spirits hit him. He didn’t usually drink hard liquor; normally, he preferred a light beer, or a nice glass of wine at home when he was unwinding from a hard day. But it smelled good, actually, underneath that first hit of booze. Dark and complex, with a hint of cherry.

It was smoother on his tongue than he’d anticipated, and not just the cherry, but hints of orange as well. “That’s . . .” Sean cleared his throat. “That’s good. Strong, but good.”

“Told you so.” Gabriel’s grin widened. “They’re actually Ren’s favorite. He introduced me.”

Sean glanced around, searching for Gabriel’s cousin, as well as a topic of discussion that wasn’t an insult or the actual matter at hand. “Is he here tonight?” It was a rare weekend evening that didn’t find Ren here, holding court by the fire pits.

Sean really liked Ren; was kind of in awe of the man’s natural confidence with potential hookups.

Gabriel shook his head. “No,” he said. “He had a date tonight.”

“Which means,” Sean deduced, because he was familiar enough with Ren’s habits by now, “that you’ll want to postpone your return home as long as possible.”

“Yep,” Gabriel said wryly. “You know it.”

“How long has he been working for you?” Sean was still searching around for the right topic to keep them away from the topic. Ren was as good a one as any. He knew Gabriel’s cousin had been with him since almost the very beginning of his food truck, but he’d make Gabriel tell him anyway.

“From the first day,” Gabriel said ruefully. “The guy works hard, despite all his many failings.”

“I like Ren,” Sean said staunchly, knowing that Gabriel did too. He just liked to pretend that Ren was a pain in his ass.

“I keep him around to make the truck look good,” Gabriel admitted. “I feel like half my customers show up hoping to hook up with him, and the other half are there to try to do it again.”

Sean was surprised at the rueful tone Gabriel used. Did he think . . . no. There was no way that Gabriel thought he wasn’t attractive. He was just as attractive as Ren—more, even. He was just a little growly and difficult, and spent far less time attempting to charm the masses.

“You make the truck look plenty good,” Sean said, before he could stop himself. Why did he care if Gabriel didn’t think he was as hot as his cousin? It wasn’t any of his business. Gabriel wasn’t his boyfriend or his crush. He was barely his friend. He shouldn’t care. But he did.

Gabriel stared at him. “Really?”

Sean was flustered, even though he didn’t want to be. Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut? He took another drink and felt the booze burn all the way down his throat.

“You know you’re hot, okay,” Sean said.

“I do?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“Uh yeah, you’re just as attractive as Ren. Maybe more, I don’t know. I don’t spend much time thinking about it.” Liar.

Gabriel’s smile was slow and sweet, and unbelievably, blisteringly sexy.

“I’m not sure I believe that,” he said.

“You can believe whatever you want,” Sean retorted.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know this about you.”

“If you’re thinking . . .” Sean didn’t know how to finish that sentence. What he should do was change the subject. Back to something safe. Like which of them was willing to change the name of their truck.

But he didn’t, because Gabriel Moretti had always fascinated him, and now he was caught.

“What would I be thinking?” Gabriel asked.

“I don’t know,” Sean said, and then made the worst mistake of all. He drained his drink. Felt the alcohol wash over him in an overwhelming wave.

Why had he done that? Was he hoping that if he was drunk, this would be easier?

Truthfully, everything did seem a lot clearer right now. He could see the last two years without any of the blinders that he’d clung to so hopelessly. He’d been attracted, on a deep, visceral level, to Gabriel from the very beginning. That had never really changed. He hadn’t been sure if it was mutual, but from the way Gabriel was looking at him now, it seemed impossible that they weren’t on the exact same page.

He could do anything . . . anything.

“I’m thinking that this wasn’t exactly what