It's Complicated: A Reservations Story

Beckett finally relented. Julian liked a man who could weigh his options and come out on the winning side. Beckett stepped forward, using a hand to lift himself onto the table beside him as Julian said, “If we’re going to continue this, I think we should find somewhere else to practice.”

“Why?” Beckett asked as he scooted back on the tabletop and spread his legs to get more comfortable. The slight adjustment had his thigh touching Julian’s.

“We’re being spied on.” Not that Beckett would have noticed once he got going on his topic. But Julian did. “Thane’s been sticking his head in to see what’s going on. Some of my staff keep walking by as if they have any reason to be in this part of the resort. It’s distracting,” Julian explained, watching Beckett pause from squirting water into his mouth.

“Are you sure? I never saw anything,” Beckett said, jerking his head toward the open door. He lowered the bottle absently, his brow furrowed. “Walker seriously came by?”

“He’s trying to be sly, but he’s not good at it.” Julian chuckled, not even angry at Thane’s blatant snooping. The shit-eating grin on Thane’s face as he stealthily poked his head around the corner showed the pride he held in helping to make this happen for Julian.

Beckett’s infectious good nature was hard to get past. Julian placed his water bottle and cell phone on the table, gripping the edge with his hands. He angled his head toward Beckett to better see his face and asked again, “How old are you?”

“Wow, that’s kind of an ego killer to learn you didn’t look that closely at my file,” Beckett quipped, turning his full attention back to Julian. Beckett leaned to the side, bumping his shoulder into Julian’s. “I’m thirty-three.”

“I wouldn’t want to mess with your ego, so I’ll come clean. I thought it might be a typo. You seem older,” Julian teased, getting the dig in with that last line. He didn’t know one single gay man who accepted Father Time’s insistence in growing older.

The tease hit its mark. Beckett looked crestfallen.

Julian’s immediate giggle surprised even him. He barely got the next words out with how hard he failed at trying not to laugh. “Don’t look so butthurt. As I’ve gotten to know you, I suspected you were younger than we originally thought.”

The bubble of laughter couldn’t be contained. It spilled over, tumbling out of Julian’s mouth as Beckett again knocked him in the shoulder with a little more force this time.

“Man, my ego’s reeling from the compliments. Keep ’em coming. I might have to make an extra trip to my therapist after this. Really. How old did you think I was?” Beckett asked, his palm going to his heart, pretending to rub out the sting of Julian’s words.

“Calm down,” Julian managed, giving Beckett his genuine side grin. He couldn’t resist Beckett; the man was too damn adorable. “It’s not by the way you look, but the way you carry yourself. And you always had that brim of your cowboy hat covering your face. You were relentless with that thing.” Julian’s words appeared to instantly appease Beckett. His hurt expression morphed into a wide grin. “Now, don’t get the big head that I was looking at your information. I have to be careful who I’m spending time with.”

“He gives,” Beckett teased, his palm resting back on his heart. “And he takes away.”

“You lied on your application. I can’t believe the background check came back approved,” Julian shot out and returned the shoulder bump, knocking Beckett hard enough he lowered his hand to the table to keep himself upright. “That’s grounds for an immediate termination of your membership. What’s up with that?”

“How did I lie?” Beckett asked after a long, confused pregnant pause.

“You said your money came from oil.” Julian cocked his head, arching his brow as he stared pointedly at Beckett.

Beckett’s bark of laughter had Julian grinning too. He just wasn’t sure why. “It’s technically not a lie. We get a residual check from an oil company in Texas who leased some land on my mother’s side of the family. Once it's divided up, I make about five hundred dollars off it every year.”

Beckett looked so proud of those five hundred dollars that Julian nodded and lifted his brows, Julian’s giant grin spreading across his face. He hadn’t felt this light and carefree in years. “Oh, big spender.”

“I didn’t lie. I did make money in oil. I figured it sounded better than a pot farm investor,” Beckett explained and looked toward the door. This time, Chase stuck his head through the doorway and interrupted them.

“Hey, boss, it’s four thirty.”

Julian gave the waiter a hard stare.

Before he ever arrived, Julian had preplanned. He paid Chase twenty bucks to come save his ass, just in case this training session had turned into a terrible idea. By his best estimation, Chase should have bailed him out about forty minutes ago. Some good that turned out to be.