It's Complicated: A Reservations Story

The employee entrance door squeaked open behind him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the whooping as he lifted on his toes and met Beckett for a sweet, chaste press of lips. Beckett stayed in his face, looking all doe-eyed, melting Julian’s heart and his resistance.

“Hi,” Julian whispered hoarsely. His voice momentarily stolen by the man holding him in such a powerful embrace.

“It was a long thirty minutes since we talked last,” Beckett murmured. With a calloused palm, he brushed away the strands of hair blowing in his face. The tender care Beckett used any time they were together never faltered and always managed to make Julian feel special and worthy.

“You were supposed to stay in the car.” Julian cocked his head toward the entrance of the club before he turned that way. Beckett’s gaze followed. He seemed surprised to see all twenty-five of his waiters spilling from the open doorway. Even Ricco was there. All the guys needed was the recognition they were being seen to ratchet their hollering up a notch.

Beckett’s gaze came back to Julian; his arms tightening their hold for a split second before releasing him. “I can’t imagine that has to do with me. I’ve been pretty damn transparent about running after you all these months.”

“It’s not you; it’s me. I should be nominated for an Academy Award with how indifferent I must have seemed toward you. They can’t help but give me hell.” Julian edged them toward Beckett’s truck as he dug the key to his condo out of his front pocket.

“Yeah, you didn’t give me much hope either. Made the prize better in the end,” Beckett said cheekily, wrapping an arm around Julian, keeping him close as he took the key and shoved it in his jeans pocket. “I’ll take Woofer out then shower and change and be back here in a few hours.”

“You’ll probably want to stop and get something to eat. I don’t have much food at the condo,” Julian said as Beckett opened the door to his truck’s cab. He looked through the window then turned his back to the door, blocking the view before drawing Julian to him again.

“You’re something special, Cullen,” Beckett whispered. “I liked texting with you all day. We need to keep that up after I leave.”

“I was worried I was interrupting your class,” Julian confessed, lost in the hypnotic effects of Beckett’s dark gaze. Those eyes drew an honesty from Julian.

“Who the fuck cares about that? Now kiss me like you mean it. They can’t see past me.” Julian knew his staff would find a way, but he no longer cared. He wanted nothing more than to follow Beckett’s command. Julian lifted an inch or so to meet Beckett. His lips parted at the same time Beckett’s tongue swept inside his mouth. Their kisses were fluid and made of something otherworldly. He couldn’t recall a single time he’d ever been obsessed with someone’s lips. Beckett’s were soft and fleshy and felt so right pressed against his. All the tingles and goose bumps did Julian in, drowning out everything else but the wonderful man literally sweeping him off his feet.

It had been a while since Beckett had left Reservations without being drunk off his ass. Tonight was different. He was completely sober with countless bags of groceries in his hands as he pushed past an excited Woofer blocking his entrance into the condo.

“Place, boy.”

The dog instantly lowered to the floor, wagging his tail, that tongue hanging out the side of his mouth as he watched Beckett with eager eyes. He was such a sweet boy.

“We have an hour before Julian gets home,” he explained to Woofer, hoisting the heavy bags onto the countertop.

He left them there while shrugging out of his suit coat and tossing it over his suitcase at the edge of the kitchen’s island. He’d downsized his luggage, leaving most of his things in the truck, knowing Julian’s condo could only handle so much more.

“We’re gonna cook Julian a dinner. You in to help?”

The dog tilted his head as if he understood. Maybe he did. That tail picked up time at the mention of Julian’s name. The loyalty was astounding. Beckett removed his cuff links, dropped them into his suit coat pocket, and started rolling up the sleeves to his dress shirt.

“Can you hold it a minute more so I can start marinating the meat and mushrooms?”

Since Woofer wasn’t standing next to the back door, Beckett figured he could wait. He quickly unpacked the grocery sacks, mentally ticking off the recipe he’d found online while in the store. He opened the refrigerator and tossed the few things that needed refrigerating inside. Again surprised at the complete lack of food inside this condo. Food was always such a motivator for Beckett. Clearly not for Julian. He didn’t even have a ketchup bottle sitting on the shelves. He wasn’t all too certain he could date a man that didn’t like ketchup.