Don't Judge (Nothing Special 4)

“Until tomorrow, wild one,” he whispered, closing the door behind him.

Chapter Nineteen

Michaels groaned and stretched as his eyes slowly opened and adjusted to his strange surroundings. The window was covered with a sheer white panel and the sunlight that was currently blinding him reminded him that he was in Florida. In Florida with—. Oh no. Last night’s memories flooded over him like a tsunami. He’d been tipsy, but not drunk. He remembered it all, every single mind-blowing-intensely-erotic-second of it. Well if he wasn’t sure, the crusty substance on his back was a clear indication. Asshole. Could’ve got a rag.

Michaels stood and cracked his neck and back. He felt wrung dry. What was the deal with Judge? Talk about mixed signals. Straight men didn’t jerk off other men no matter how wired up they were, so it was obvious he was gay or bi. But who cared? If Judge wanted the job of relieving his stress, then he was hired. Fuck it. Judge would be out of his life in a matter of days, a week tops. What would be the harm in mixing a little pleasure with their business?

He checked his cell phone and saw it was just after eight. Damnit. What time was Judge getting on the road? They should be halfway to Miami by now. Surely the man wasn’t considerate enough to let him sleep in. Michaels saw his bag had been placed just inside the door. He got out his toiletries and quietly made his way to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Showering and dressing quickly, he made sure to strip the linens, fold them neatly, and place them at the foot of the bed. He also made sure he had everything packed and went downstairs to find Judge. When he got to the landing he heard Linda’s voice. She was crying.

“He has good and bad days, JJ. This is going to be a bad one.” She sniffled again before continuing. “I fear they’re going to be a lot more frequent.”

“I could come back here. Help you and Pop.” Judge’s deep voice was laden with sadness.

Michaels felt like he was eavesdropping, but he didn’t move.

“No, JJ. Absolutely not,” Linda said sternly. “That’s not your job.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No,” she scolded. “Your job is getting the scum off the streets. That’s what you love. Not bartending in a rowdy run-down bar.” The sigh he heard was sad and tired. “It’s high time we think of closing the place down, honey. Your father doesn’t like the idea, but we don’t have a choice. We need to sell while we can.”

“I’m sorry, Linda,” Judge said softly.

“Oh, honey. It’s God’s plan. Your father ran this place for over fifty years. Successfully. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’ve been a good son, JJ. A beautiful son to me when I couldn’t have my own. I’m thankful every—”

Michaels came around the corner and cleared his throat. He had no right to continue to listen. Judge looked shocked at first but his lip quirked up a little in the corner and he narrowed his eyes at him. “Um, good morning, Linda.”

“Austin. Did you sleep well? How’s your hand?” She came around Judge’s large frame to get to him. She lifted his hand and lightly traced her petite fingertips over the bruises. “Did you put some antibacterial ointment on them?”

Michaels gently extracted his hand, patting hers. “I just showered, so I’m sure they’re clean. It’s fine, I promise.”

She smiled sweetly. “Oh, okay. I hope Judge, Jr. wasn’t too hard on you last night.”

Michaels looked up at Judge over Linda’s head. His eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, yes ma’am. He was very hard.”

Judge’s jaw clamped down on that sweet stick in his mouth. He swallowed stiffly, his large Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His eyes were dark and fierce, looking like he was right then promising retribution for the double entendre Michaels threw down like a gauntlet.

Linda turned and swatted Judge on his arm. “JJ. I told you to be nice,” she admonished, heading back downstairs. “You boys come on; you can eat before you get on the road.”

Judge stood tall and gestured for Michaels to walk ahead of him. “You didn’t get a good enough view of my ass last night?” he whispered on his way by.

Judge grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his chest. “No. But I will.”

They ate a hearty breakfast of pecan French toast, hash brown casserole, fried ham slices, and scrambled eggs. Michaels was so full he wanted to go back to sleep. “Jesus, Linda. I hope I don’t have to chase anyone today. I’m so full. Everything was delicious. Haven’t had a breakfast like that in years. Thank you,” he said, wiping his mouth after another gulp of orange juice.

Linda blushed at the compliment. “You’re welcome anytime, sweetie.”