Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 123877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Thankfully, the waitress showed up with a refill. Julian lifted his cocktail glass, taking a couple of long drinks before letting a few small ice cubes drop into his mouth. Julian chomped as he registered the warmth sliding over his body and resisted the urge to put the cold glass to his cheeks to help cool the flush heating his skin.
“You ready to explain the emotional support animal?” Beckett asked.
“Absolutely not. It’s your turn anyway. Tell me about Beckett St. Clair.” Julian pushed back in the booth’s seat, leaning against the wall. He kicked one leg out to stretch across the seat, disrupting Woofer, who settled more fully against his leg. Julian flipped out his index finger encouraging Beckett to start talking.
“Then let’s do a question for a question,” Beckett countered, taking the last few bites of fries before reaching for the napkin again, rubbing it over his mouth, then his hands before tossing it in the basket and pushing it away.
“Maybe,” Julian said, eyeing Beckett closely, wondering if he should admit now or later that he had no intention of opening up about his sordid past. Not that Julian was ashamed; everything was just really complicated. He wasn’t in the same place he had been. Hell, what would he say? I fucked guys for money, cars, and trips, and I loved my life. I want my life back…
Instead, he steered the conversation away from Beckett’s request and asked his own question, crossing all lines of decorum. “Don’t get salty when I say I know you’re financially loaded per the background check we did on you. You’re a very admired man, and even though I’ve seen your files, you’re still a mystery. You’re putting off a far more comfortable vibe here in this outdated grill than you do at Reservations. What’s up with that?”
Beckett’s grin was immediate, and he reached for his beer, taking a drink as the waitress took the last empty basket of food off the table. “I haven’t always had money. About six or seven years ago, an investment I made paid off in a really big way, and it’s paid, and paid, and paid since then. I was in the right place at the right time.”
“You own some sort of training camp, right?” Julian asked. Not only was Beckett more comfortable here, but the man also made Julian more comfortable, and he had practically lived in seedy dive bars when he was sixteen years old and off on his own.
“I do with my father. It’s a survivalist training camp, but I get to ask the next question. How do you not have a boyfriend?”
“Down, boy.” Julian laughed at such a question and gave Beckett a wide grin. Interest in wanting to fill that vacancy for Julian rolled off Beckett in waves. Julian shook his head. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. I didn’t want to be pinned down in that way. I’ve never had the hang-up other people have about monogamy and relationships. For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived my life on my terms. My life was straight fire. I enjoyed the hell out of it.”
“You lived your life in what way?” Beckett asked. Julian wondered if he had picked up on his smallest hint of his past lifestyle. “Never had a one-on-one relationship?” Beckett watched him, perhaps weighing his answer.
Julian lifted his brow and shook his head. “My turn to ask a question. Survivalist. Like what does that entail? You could be dropped in the middle of nowhere with nothing and survive?” Julian asked.
Beckett nodded before tilting the bottle back for a long drink. “I’d live and thrive. I could pull you through too.”
“Oh lord, no. I have a firm rule. If we have a zombie apocalypse, save yourself, leave me behind, remember me as I was. I’m a concrete jungle kind of guy. I lived in LA for twelve years and loved every minute.” Julian lifted his hand, sweeping it around the room. “I grew up in a small town with places like this. I wanted out so badly.”
Beckett sat back in the seat, bringing a hand to his heart. “You should have said something. We didn’t have to come here.”
“Not the point, St. Clair.” He didn’t appease Beckett, who reached for his wallet as if preparing to get Julian out of there.
“We could’ve gone somewhere else. I was just starving. I missed dinner.”
Julian tapped the top of the table, drawing Beckett’s attention to him.
“I’m fine. Besides, nothing compares to seeing you wolf down that hamburger. This might be my new favorite place. I’ve never seen anyone eat like that before. When I bring meat back into my diet, I’ll be trying one of those overpriced cheeseburgers. You can bet on it.” Julian quirked his lips, drawing one side up, watching Beckett’s eyes focus on his mouth. Old habits were hard to let go of.