It's Complicated: A Reservations Story

Beckett shuddered, glancing down at his tight-fitting ensemble. The smart thing would have been to make a quick stop to change into the jeans and T-shirt he’d brought along yesterday when he’d decided on this last-minute run to the club in Coronado. But he’d rushed aboard his plane and taken off for his home in Northern California, intent on making it back early in the day.

The trip back and forth had become a habit. But admittedly he’d pushed his leaving time as far as he could last night, all so he could stay a little longer in the company of a set of piercing eyes that touched his very soul. He’d left his personal plane at the hanger of the family airstrip, a good mile and a half from the main lodge.

His grin spread. Thank goodness he hadn’t talked himself out of going yesterday. He’d been teetering over the decision because it appeared the nightclub’s manager just wasn’t into him.

Beckett had held out hope—fed by his deep infatuation—that Julian only needed to look his way, just one time. That when he finally did, surely, Julian would see what he’d been missing and fall to Beckett’s feet. That had him chuckling to himself. At least he could dream. His smarter and more logical side recognized that it had been three months with not one single sign of encouragement. If Julian was going to acknowledge him, it would have happened two months, three weeks, and two days ago.

Hell, Julian paid less attention to Beckett than he did anyone else inside that bar.

Until last night when Beckett had the breakthrough he’d been waiting for. Out of nowhere, Julian’s extraordinary gaze zeroed in on his and Beckett’s world tilted on its axis.

Even now, remembering their moment had butterflies fluttering inside his belly, the muscles quivering and tightening in anticipation.

They’d shared three dances together, and their chemistry couldn’t be denied. When had dancing with a man been such a binding, physical force?

Never. That was when.

Until last night.

Images of the most handsome man he had ever seen played in Technicolor inside his head as the truck hit a rut and bounced him around the seat.

Julian Cullen—a man almost too stunning for his own good. That gaze, his pouty lips with that sharp-witted tongue, the slight indent in his chin…

Beckett had always liked his men on the big and beefy side. Julian had shown him exactly how wrong he’d been.

A single glance of Julian on his first visit to Reservations had triggered an all-consuming reaction. He’d heard about the club from one of his clients and casually started digging for more information. Beckett hadn’t been out all that long. At thirty-three years old, it had taken him longer than most to make peace with his own being.

He had almost backed out of going to Reservations for a variety of reasons. One, he’d hidden for so long that it took some adjustment to be around so many openly gay men. The other bigger reason was their dress code. Beckett did not like to dress up.

He’d added his Stetson to his new high-dollar suit just to feel the slightest bit more like himself. If he hadn’t taken the time to complete the long membership forms and spent the several thousand dollars on the entry fees and clothing required, he probably would have changed his mind as he’d stood staring at his reflection before heading out that first night. Thinking back over that initial visit, he could see what a mistake that would have been.

At the time, he had thought all the vetting Reservations did for its club members was overkill, but when he’d walked through the front doors of the club for the first time, he recognized what they were trying to accomplish. And it worked. It gave men like him, gay men, a place to safely meet. Not that he’d met too many available guys there, but Julian took that blame.

When he’d surveyed the elegant nightclub, taking in every bit of the opulence, his heart had almost leaped from his chest when his gaze landed on the gorgeous manager working at his perch at the end of the bar.

For those who didn’t believe in love at first sight, they were flat ass wrong.

The object of his desire was his exact opposite. Julian leveled out on the high-end of being an extrovert. Full of life, and so very clearly the energy behind the club. Julian’s mouth— Beckett shook his head just thinking about it. That damn sassy mouth had a comeback for everything.

Julian was also annoyingly elusive. Every night that Beckett spent in Coronado, whether there for work or an impromptu visit like last night, he’d sat inside the club, spending wads of cash and watching Julian flirt with every man in the place. Every man except for him.

Nothing in Beckett’s life seemed to matter more than catching a glimpse of the blue-eyed manager. After last night, when they’d shared three dances together, that truth crystallized even more. Tingles radiated through his body and down to his fingertips where he clutched the steering wheel just thinking about Julian’s beautiful face inches from his as they moved together on the crowded dance floor.