had a clear sight line of the entire club, allowing them to easily see who was coming and going.
Luke slid into the booth, with Eddie following close behind.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Luke said after they were settled.
“Do you really want to hear the answer?”
“Of course—”
Eddie leaned close into Luke’s personal space. “We’re undercover in a gay bar, so tonight we pretend you’re mine , Luke,” he whispered, mere inches from the other man’s ear. “Only if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be pretending. And that’s also the answer to your question.”
“You’ve been flirting with me? Fuck , Eddie.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Luke stared at him. “Why does it seem like I’m always two steps behind everyone else? My wife decides to leave me, and I had no idea. Elizabeth spills to you about me kissing her, and I had no idea. Captain Walton throws me together with you without letting me know. Now this...it’s fucking irritating.”
“Apparently all those years of marriage did nothing to hone your skills enough to realize when someone is hitting on you.”
Luke ran his hand over his face and sighed.
“Losing your temper and punching me because I came on to you is going to bring us unwanted attention, especially when we’re supposed to be a happy couple out for a drink,” Eddie pointed out.
“I’m not going to punch you.”
“You sure? Because I’m too pretty for a broken nose.”
“Yeah.” He sat back in the booth. “You’ll notice I’m not ‘reacting like a typical cop’ as you said, Brock.”
“No, you’re not,” Eddie agreed. “How are you reacting?”
“I don’t...” Luke hesitated, meeting Eddie’s intense stare. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, you wanted to know, and there it is. Women don’t interest me. I’m a straight-forward guy, Luke. I don’t bullshit—never had a taste for it. Life’s too short, y’know?” He ran his fingers through his hair quickly and got up. “You want a beer?”
Luke looked up at him. “Yeah. Whatever’s on tap is fine.”
“Be right back.”
Luke’s eyes tracked the other man’s intentional swagger across the dance floor over to the bar. In the white tank top and those blond curls, Eddie caused a distinct surge of energy around the men he passed. It was electric...he walked by and heads turned. Eddie smiled at one man who approached and nodded his head in Luke’s direction. The man must have tried to pick him up.
As he watched Eddie navigate among the many men who were hitting on him, Luke knew Eddie was right about his tendency to rush to judgment about people. Years on the streets had made him cynical. He was often cold-hearted when he should have been empathetic, and angry when he should have been calm. He realized he’d been living his life the way he was trained to be a policeman: right or wrong, black or white, on or off. There was no in-between, no moments of doubt, no gray. It was a very narrow way of viewing the world, and Eddie had every right to be pissed off at him for his limited vision. He’d never met anyone like Eddie. Perhaps it was the devil-may-care attitude or the way he simply seemed to get enjoyment out of life, but Luke found himself wanting to know more about him.
Then Luke could see Eddie talking to the bartender as he waited for the drinks. Interestingly, he kept his right side closest to the bar—his gun side—and kept glancing through the crowd every few moments. He was good at what he did; there was no doubt about that. Luke definitely underestimated him.
Eddie finally returned and placed two mugs on the table. “I asked the bartender about Julio,” he said, sitting down again.
“Thanks,” Luke said, acknowledging the beer. “What did he have to say?”
“The strip show is in about an hour. Julio comes out first.”
“I’ve had my eyes open. Thayer isn’t here yet.”
“Maybe he won’t show up.”
“He and Julio had a really hot and heavy
Learning to Kill: Stories