It's Complicated: A Reservations Story

“Kind of you do,” Beckett murmured, his lips pressing against the skin right above Julian’s collar. “You like a good cocktail. It’s a walking tour. It’s supposed to be nice weather, sun shining, lots of vitamin D. And if you decide to go then everybody gets a chance to see you as we walk by, making Coronado a prettier place. It’s a win all the way around…”

Julian gave a side smirk over his shoulder at the ridiculousness of Beckett’s attempt to talk him into going. “It’s a walking tour if you mean we’ll walk miles and miles. Reservations dining club is taking part. I completely forgot.”

Some of the tight hold Beckett held Julian with loosened. “Do you need to work it?” He could hear the dejection in Beckett’s voice.

Julian reached for another plate, handing it over his shoulder. His answer fell solidly in this weird, unfamiliar territory where Reservations had taken the second spot of importance in Julian’s life. Of course, he had planned to work the margarita tour until he got the harebrained idea to keep Beckett around through the weekend.

“I’m off until Monday morning when I drive you to the airport. It wouldn’t be my responsibility anyway even though I regularly stick my nose in everybody’s business, regardless if it’s the club or the restaurant.”

“You’re so bossy,” Beckett teased, easily slipping back into his good mood. He kissed Julian one last time on the neck before following behind him to make his own plate. “Boundaries must be awful hard on you.”

“You think you know me?” Julian angled his head, looking over at Beckett.

Beckett’s playful grin showed he’d easily blown off the quick rebuke. “I’ve been watching you for months. I know you, Julian Cullen, but I want to know more.”

The warmth that only Beckett brought to Julian’s life seeped through him like a constantly healing balm, instantly disarming his automatic comebacks that lay like an arsenal ready to fire when literally anyone in his life said something like that.

“Huh. Good thing you’re cute and can cook, but can you do the dishes afterward?” Julian winked when Beckett’s brow lifted. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you that you did a good job when you finish.”

“Thanks,” Beckett said and chuckled. “Such a sweet guy.”

Julian took his plate and reached for a bottle of water in the door of his refrigerator before proceeding to the barstool on the other side of the kitchen island. “That’s me. Sweet guy. Hear it all the time.”

Chapter 22

Maybe Julian wasn’t the only one who purposefully broke the rules. He and Beckett sat on the edge of the complex’s swimming pool well past closing time, relaxing on two loungers they had pushed close together, enjoying the warmth of the night. Beckett lifted the bottle of wine they’d brought along, topping off Julian’s red Solo cup before filling his own and draining the bottle.

“Let’s see,” Beckett said, his husky voice a little above a whisper. “What else do I need to know? You left your home at sixteen and came to California. You were top of the game in the escort business. Like how much money did you actually make a night?”

Julian gave Beckett a skeptical side eye, still waiting for the Dudley Do-Right to pop out and judge him. It never happened, no matter how long Julian waited. Everyone had judged him for both the good and the bad of his previous profession, but Beckett did neither. It made no sense at all. Julian lifted the cup to his lips, hiding the sudden bout of skepticism.

“How much do you think I made?”

“Well, I know what I’ve paid, but I’ve never had the good fortune of being with anyone who could ever compare to you,” Beckett said, lifting the glass to his lips, his full unabashed focus trained on Julian. In a tender, all Beckett style move, he reached his hand across the lounger, taking Julian’s, making everything right in his world.

“How much did you pay?” The question wasn’t a hard one, but the complexity of the math showed on Beckett’s semi-intoxicated face, causing Julian to chuckle quietly. “Don’t hurt yourself there.”

Beckett’s expression instantly morphed into humor, grinning at Julian. “I haven’t spent very much. I usually swipe right, but I think I’ve spent a few hundred dollars.”

“What?” Julian acted offended for those being paid so little in his past profession. The back of his lounger flipped forward when he sat up in faux outrage. “Are you serious? Poor broke guys. You give clients a bad fucking name…”

“Shh, you’ll get us kicked out.” Beckett grinned, and his hand tightened, giving a gentle squeeze. His laughing, sweet expression was so damn enchanting. Julian wished he could climb on top of the man and let him know exactly how much he liked that sexy grin. “I’d guess you’d probably make five hundred dollars a date. I honestly don’t know how it works.”