Page 39 of Their Pup to Tame

When he turned back toward me, his expression was soft and tranquil, even if his cheeks were flushed. We didn’t have much time left, so he started sucking the moment he latched on, long, hard pulls, easing the last of the ache in my chest, even if there was one growing in my boxers now. By the time we had any alone time together, we’d be too tired for what I had in mind for him, but I committed it to memory as he finished suckling enough that the rest of the afternoon wouldn’t be completely miserable.

“Thank you, pup,” I murmured when he was finished and had licked the last traces of milk from my chest. “I owe you a special treat on our next day off.”

“We both do,” Parker said, waiting for me to finish kissing Phoenix so he could kiss him too.

We managed to make ourselves presentable enough to open the shop three minutes later than planned, but with only two people waiting. I’d consider that a victory. Watching Parker wave as he headed up the block, all I could think about was how big a part of my life he’d always been and how much I looked forward to him and Phoenix being my future.

11

PHOENIX

“Do I even want to ask what kind of stories you’ve been telling them?” Uncle James asked after he’d finished dropping the last of his dice into a bulging Crown Royal bag. Some of the ones he had in there were truly old school, like the D50 he claimed to have caught and retained possession of after another player had winged it at his head.

“Actually, he only told us one,” Parker interrupted, “but I’d love to hear as many as you’d care to share. I’m always looking for inspiration. The latest idea I had was bike messengers, but I’ve been mulling over a mystery involving an ex-high-profile model fallen on hard times, working at a strip club, and he is going to need at least one partner, if not more, to help him solve whatever mystery unfolds there.”

“If you want to talk bizarre shit, we can sit around all night and I’ll talk your ear off,” Uncle James assured him.

“As long as you do it on someone else’s couch,” Dorian said. “The boys and I have an early start in the morning, so it’s closing time, gentlemen. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

“In this case, going home will work,” Aspen declared. “James, you’re welcome to join us. The shop doesn’t open until ten, so I will be sleeping in.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Dorian grumbled.

“Hey, you set the hours, not me,” Aspen reminded him.

“Which can always be adjusted,” he said.

“Going now,” Aspen said and caught Parker’s arm, tugging him to the lift while Uncle James shook his head.

“They’re good for you,” he said.

“Yeah, they are.”

He nodded, but I could tell there was more that he wanted to say. I appreciated Aspen inviting him over, since it would have felt weird to invite someone to someone else’s place, though it wasn’t lost on me that I brought a few more things over to Aspen’s place each time I stopped by my room above the strip club.

The sight of us roaring out of the parking lot could have been the start of a bad joke, as two bikes, a convertible, and an SUV hit the street with music blaring. Metal from me and my uncle’s bikes and grunge from Parker’s, while Aspen, despite his efforts, couldn’t drown us out with Black Sabbath. To say we were loud was an understatement, but it felt positively amazing, as did my uncle’s acknowledgment of the men in my life and how important they’d already become to me. I just hoped he still felt the same way about them when he heard what I needed to talk to him about, but I’d let him tell a few stories first. That always put him in a great mood.

My uncles had always turned up for me and my siblings, right along with our folks, keeping up with our sports and activities. The rest of the stuff, camping, fishing, learning to play cards, and how to properly throw and take a punch, had always been family affairs. Uncle James hated bullshit, so I hoped he’d be suspicious enough to dig further into the string of incidents I’d written down for him and cross-check it with the schedule, because I was certain that I knew who was responsible for letting in a steady stream of assholes and idiots.

My bike fit in the garage beside Aspen’s car, while Parker and Uncle James parked on the street. We met at the front door, Hells Bells still ringing in my ears, with a blanket of stars overhead and a bright, silver-glowing moon.

Beautiful didn’t begin to describe it.

It didn’t take long for iced tea and double chocolate chip cookies to be passed around. Parker liked to bake when he needed a brain break, and when he was really stuck on something, he raided the kitchen, took off for the grocery store, and came back with an assortment of things. I helped him carry them in, then waited in the den for him to finish playing Master Chef. I didn’t mind. In between reading graphic novels, I’d put together a list of ideas, themes, and a whole plan for launching a new line of signature cocktails.

Instead of being restless without heads to crack, I was using the time to brainstorm and look for ways to make the club stand out, and not for the number of back-alley brawls, either. It was getting embarrassing, and I wasn’t someone who was easily shamed. It would be nice to not get the response,Oh, you work there,from someone with their nose wrinkled or a sneer on their face. Yeah, I knew our reputation was in the toilet, but it wasn’t too late to fix that.

“Okay, you asked for bizarre, try this on for size,” Uncle James said. “This guy comes into the club one night to watch the dancers, and he’s carrying one of those round goldfish bowls with his pet fish in it. I’ll never forget what kind of fish they were either. He gets a table right up near the stage, orders a beer and nachos, and tells Baily, who was waiting on him at the time, that he brought his best friends out to celebrate the promotion he’d just gotten. She asked what the deal was with the fish. He said those were his friends, Molly and Molly 2, because they were both Mollies.

Pfffft.

Parker barely got the napkin in front of his face in time not to spit tea all over Aspen.

I was glad I hadn’t tried to sip mine yet because I’d never heard this story before.

“Baily brought his order and said that when she passed through later to check on her tables, he had his head pressed against the side of the bowl as he stared up at the stage, enjoying the view. He never bothered anyone and never asked her to bring him anything else either, but she said that at the end of the night, he thanked her for checking on him, waved, and carried his fish out the door, with a twenty-dollar tip left behind on the table for her. Honestly, we could do with a few more patrons like that.”

“At least he wasn’t lonely,” I said. “He brought his two best friends, and he didn’t care if anyone looked at him sideways because they were fish, but it’s probably a good thing it wasn’t a rowdy night, or I’d have been worried about the fish tank.”