George's Turn [Brac Pack 8] by Lynn Hagen Read Free Book Online

and a black T-shirt that had to be a size triple X. The damn shirt stretched across a chest so full of muscles that George wanted to lick his lips.
    Tank wasn’t even his type, but George knew a hot guy when he saw one, and he was looking right at one. He swung his head around when he heard clatter over by the pool table. Two large men were standing chest to chest with each other, the man with black-and-blond hair was snarling.
    “Don’t pay any attention to Murdock and Gunnar. They’re just competitive.” Tank chuckled. “They’re harmless.”
    “Yeah, they really look harmless.” The one with the black and blond hair stood a few inches taller than George. He looked like he was a world-champion weight lifter with all the muscles he sported.
    The other one was George’s height and with the same blond hair he had, only this guy was more firm, not bulky. George thought he was insane for challenging the other guy.
    “Come on, let’s eat.” Tank led him down a hallway that seemed to 42
    Lynn Hagen
    have a thousand doors. George noticed mahogany double doors that were open revealing an expansive library. These guys must be loaded.
    He felt slightly intimidated by that. He was just a poor country boy trying to get by, and here these guys were living it up. He wasn’t jealous of their wealth. It was just overwhelming. As a poor farm boy, he wasn’t used to such luxuries.
    “I was going to have us eat in the formal dining room, but it seemed a little impersonal. I hope you don’t mind the kitchen.” Tank led him into a large open kitchen with a breakfast table that sat eight.
    The kitchen had green marble countertops and a chrome side-by-side refrigerator. It was beautiful. He smiled to himself when he saw that Tank had set the lighting low and had candles burning in a romantic setting.
    Tank pulled his chair back, waiting for him to take it.
    “I told ya I ain’t a girl.” George scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
    “Humor me for tonight. Please?” Tank reached out and traced his fingers down George’s forearm, causing him to get gooseflesh.
    “Fine, but if you stand when I do, there’s gonna be trouble.” George heaved a sigh and allowed Tank to scoot his chair in.
    Tank walked around to his side and began serving what looked like sweet-and-sour chicken. Did Tank cook this, or did he order it?
    George bit the inside of his mouth to stop the smile. He knew Tank had worked hard at this, and he wasn’t going to complain or laugh at him. He appreciated the effort the man had gone through to impress him.
    “I hope you like Chinese. I never thought to ask.” He poured the red sauce over George’s chicken, his hands shaking slightly.
    “That’s good.” George put his hand up when Tank tried to add more chicken to his plate. “Thank you.” Tank smiled and sat back down, looking at George’s plate and then back at his. He scooped a small amount of rice and chicken onto his plate.

    George’s Turn
    43
    George pointed his fork at Tank’s plate. “I know you eat more than that. Don’t stand on ceremony on my account. Eat up.” George took a bite to cover his smile.
    Tank tossed the fork down and grabbed the bite-size chicken with his fingers. He glanced up at George and chuckled as he placed another nugget in his mouth. Tank was trying really hard for him.
    Tank gulped.
    “You okay?” George set his fork down, staring at Tank with concern.
    “Yeah, you’re...just so breathtaking.” Did the big fella actually just blush? George’s defensives lowered at the sight of this big galoot being so unsure and nervous. It made him feel ten feet tall, powerful, knowing he was the cause of Tank’s vulnerability.
    “Thanks.” He shoved another forkful in his mouth, not sure what else to say. What do you say to something like that? Thank you seemed inadequate.
    They finished their dinner. George helped Tank clean up while Tank protested that his guest shouldn’t be cleaning. George scraped his plate