St. Nacho's 4: The Book of Daniel (2 page)

“Don’t joke about that.” Jake pressed his lips together.

Chastened, I said, “All right.”

“I swear I’d have traded places with you in a second.”

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t want that. You know I wouldn’t.” No way in hell.

“I know.”

“So…” I glanced around. “Are we gonna eat or what?”

He shifted in his seat, glancing at the patio door, toward the restaurant where even now Cooper, the violinist who played during the dinner hour, was tuning up. I realized something was up.

“What’s going on?”

Jake smiled. “I’m expecting JT.”

“Yeah?”
What a surprise
. Jake and JT had been inseparable since the accident where I’d hurt my hand. It was kind of sweet really, if you liked that sort of thing. “His idea or yours?”

“His.”

It was hard to even look at him, he was so gone in love. If I’d cherished any notion that someday Jake and I would play the field together, share bachelor digs, drink too much and party and wind up owning a brothel in Cabo, JT had effectively disabused me of it. He was a decent, hardworking, and fairly sober family man. Jake idolized him. There was no downside to this except the obvious one: I wasn’t ready to relinquish my brother to JT, because I had all this newfound freedom—at last—and I wanted Jake to share it with me.

I took a drag off my cigarette and looked away. I know I’m a prick. Sometimes I shame myself. But even that might not stop me.

“So, why Nacho’s on a Monday night?”

“We both had the day off, and we thought it might be fun. Dinner with the family.”

I nodded. In that he was right. He and I were the only family we had.

My ears picked up the strains of some pretty tune. Cooper was playing the hell out of whatever it was, as usual. I’d once read a news story about a famous concert violinist who played in the subway as an experiment, but I’d never been privileged to hear anyone of his caliber up close, playing whatever I wanted. For a few bucks and a smile, Cooper gave you a musical experience you could never get anywhere else. It was like an immense, unexpected gift, and the people of St. Nacho’s were smart enough to cherish it.

Cooper’s violin was part of the magic of St. Nacho’s. Part of the sticky satisfaction Jake found here; what kept him grounded and caused him to open his bakery a couple of streets over. I was always glad to listen, glad to put my money into the hat and grateful for the experience, but St. Nacho’s didn’t suck me in the way it had Jake.

I liked the vibe of the place. I liked Nacho’s bar. I liked the beach and the bakery, but whenever I had the chance, I headed north to San Francisco or south to LA. I made stops in Santa Barbara for the music and the art. I went to Santa Monica for sex.

I wasn’t Jake. With the end of my marriage, I’d proved something important to myself about the kind of man I was, and I had my freedom to look forward to.

I’d told the last lie I was ever going to tell.

Jake stood up when JT appeared at the door.

Chapter Two

“Here he is.” Jake’s smile went critical and flooded the area around us with happiness. “Hi, babe.”

“Hey.” JT embraced my brother warmly and gave him a kiss.

“Dan.” JT turned to me and offered his hand. I took it with my bionic dexter and noticed he was gentle when he held it in his. He’d been the EMT to triage and treat me when they pulled me from the car after the accident, and while he’d seen a thousand injuries like mine—and far worse—he’d taken his time and been genuinely compassionate. I’d always be grateful for that. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” I answered.
Gzzzzzzt
. The lie detector in my head mocked me only minutes after I’d declared myself prevarication-free.

I looked behind JT and saw Cam Rooney walk in. I glanced up at him in some surprise. Both JT and Cam? To what did we owe the pleasure?

Cam raised a supercilious eyebrow—something you don’t expect from a brute like him—and stayed silent. It was no secret that Cam and I hadn’t exactly become BFFs. That was odd, really, and I’m sure he attributed it to sour grapes, since he was on the crew that cut my Lexus in half with the Jaws of Life, and I’d teased him about it. Not so. My gratitude for the men of the St. Nacho’s fire department was genuine; it was only Cam who chapped my ass. I had the feeling he didn’t think too much of me either.

The thing is, I was on constant alert around the man because he did something to my gut—something that made me go all boneless and vulnerable—and I knew if I didn’t protect myself, I’d fall into his blue eyes and drown. I might have let myself do just that if it weren’t for the fact that once I sank to the bottom, I’d only be one of hundreds, thousands maybe who’d done the very same thing.

“Well if it isn’t the abominable fireman.”

Cam’s smile didn’t fool me for a second. “That just never gets old.”

“Cut it out, you two.” Jake buffeted me with his shoulder. “You’re like toddlers.”

“But he cut my car in half.” I am not above making a bad situation worse. “I want it back.”

“I suppose you’d like the use of your hand back too.” Cam pulled out his chair and sat down, startling me. “Must get pretty lonely without it.”

“You would know.” Jake always invited me, and JT always invited Cam. I assumed they’d given up any matchmaking aspirations because it seemed clear we couldn’t thaw out, but maybe they just did it because it added a weird kind of tension, like sweet and sour. Like every party needed contrast, and we were it.

I finally opened up the menu and glanced at the selections, although it was perfectly obvious what I would order. I always ordered the same thing when the four of us went to Nacho’s together—anything with shrimp in it—because Cam was allergic to shellfish. Why I did that, I don’t know, except he looked at my shrimp with longing, and I liked to get his goat.

St. Nacho’s was a small town, and there wasn’t a lot to do. Certainly nothing much more fun than finding myself the object of Cam Rooney’s undivided attention, even if it wasn’t the good kind. Jake argued that I spent too much time on things like that, but from the moment we’d met, and even after he’d saved my life, I’d had an unholy jones for the big blond fireman. Maybe the thing I liked was his corny fresh-faced charm. Maybe it was the fact that we were the two biggest players in St. Nacho’s.

Maybe it was because he looked at me like he knew exactly who I was and he found it disappointing. Even so, I shivered whenever he caught my gaze across the table.

The waiter brought appetizers and with them beer for all of us. I shoved a lime into the neck of my bottle and sipped it slowly because I was already enjoying a really good buzz. Once JT and Cam arrived, smoking was out, but that was okay. Once the platter of nachos, taquitos, and chips with homemade guacamole came, there wasn’t much need for the emotional camouflage of tobacco.

JT and Jake lived in a happy world all their own. Cam and I might as well be furniture for all we mattered.

Big platters of fajitas arrived, steaming and sizzling on flat cast-iron skillets. Grilled chicken and beef for them and shrimp for me, along with soft, chewy homemade tortillas, caramelized vegetables, and fresh salsa. Nobody talks much while they’re eating at Nacho’s. The food is too damn good. But after we’d put away the better part of our meal, JT seemed on edge—more so than I’d seen in a while.

“How’s work? Everything okay?”

He blushed. “It’s fine. We had a long weekend, couple of bad wrecks on the highway.”

“You seem a little tense.”

“I’m just hungry I guess.” JT’s gaze fell to his food.

I glanced at Jake, but he didn’t look up from his plate. I watched him nervously shovel beans into a tortilla. One thing you learn when you live in an unhappy home—and I had lived in those all my life—was when things have gone from sugar to shit, you have to find out why fast. Bad things happen when you don’t pay attention to subtext.

“What’s going on?” I put down my fork.

Cam and JT exchanged glances. All three pairs of eyes turned to me.

Great. Everyone knew whatever it was except me.

JT took Jake’s hand in his. “We were going to wait for dessert, but I guess we can say this now. I’ve asked Yasha to marry me, and he’s accepted.”

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that, and I didn’t have time to school my face. I wish I could take that back, because whatever Jake—Yasha as people called him in St. Nacho’s—saw caused his eyes to cloud with sadness. I smoothed my napkin in my lap with both hands to stall for time, but when that ran out, I went after the conversational ball I’d dropped.

“Congratulations. That’s great. I thought it wasn’t legal.”

Jake swallowed hard, and JT answered for both of them. “It isn’t legal under the California constitution, but we’ll be having a commitment ceremony with our rabbi and that’s…”

“It will be legal someday.” Cam spoke quietly. “But a commitment belongs to the people who make it.”

I sat back in my chair and told my second lie of the night. “That’s…that’s just great, then. I’m happy for you. Have you decided when?”

“June.”

“That soon?”

“Danilo. I need to know…will you be my best man?”

There was an awkward, awful pause until JT said, “Cam’s going to be mine. You’re still on board, right?”

Cam’s smile was genuine. “Yeah.” Cam clasped JT’s hand and pulled him in for a big bear hug. “You got it. Whatever you need. I don’t suppose you’ll let me throw you a huge, nasty bachelor party, ’cause that could—”

“I don’t think that will be necessary. We’re going to have an engagement party. Maybe you could help with that?”

“You can count on me.” Cam’s grin was wide and guileless.

I finally found my voice. “Me too.”

Three gazes leveled at me, and they all communicated an appalling lack of faith.

“Really.” I fiddled with the label on my beer and finally took a big swig. “Anything you need. It’s on me.”

A muscle jumped in JT’s jaw, and Cam frowned.

“I need to talk to my brother alone, if that’s okay,” Jake told them. “I’ll see you guys later, all right?”

“Sure.” JT leaned over and kissed him. They smiled for one another, and then he turned to me. His chin shot up, and he said, “See you.”

“Yeah,” I tried to keep a pleasant smile plastered on my face. “See you.”

Cam left with JT. I think he must have winked or given Jake a wave, but he didn’t say anything.

“What is it with that big—”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Jake throttled his beer like he wanted to break it.

“I don’t have a problem.”

“I’m not even going to talk about how you treat Cam, but can’t you find it in your heart to be happy that I’ve found someone?”

“Of course I’m happy, but—”

“But what? You think I can’t see your sarcasm? You think I’m too blind to see what you really think? It was written all over your face.”

“What do I think?” I threw my napkin down. “If you know so much, tell me what I think.”

“It’s obvious you were surprised. You have misgivings, and you probably don’t approve, but instead of talking to me about it, your response is to paste on a fake smile and throw money around. ‘
It’s on me
.
’ Fuck you, Dan. If that’s all you have to offer anyone anymore, take care of our tab.”

Jake pushed his chair back and left me sitting there alone.

After he stalked away, our waiter came back, tentatively offering to-go boxes and asking if I wanted anything else in such a way that I figured I was right; I had taken him home at one point.

“I see your arm is healing,” he offered, along with a really nice smile. I doubted he’d smile at me like that if I told him I couldn’t remember exactly who he was.

“Yeah. I’ve been doing some physical therapy.”

He hugged his tray to himself and rocked back on his heels. “How’s that going?”

“Tough.” I shrugged. “But you do what you gotta do, right?”

He nodded. “Listen, I’ll be getting off my shift at seven… Do you want to go somewhere? Or…”

I looked him over; he was cute. A young Latino with a smile that held a spark of mischief. Ordinarily I’d have taken him up on it, whoever he was, because he was hot. But the look on Jake’s face when he left bothered me. It wasn’t there, what I’d grown to expect from him. What I’d grown to depend on. If I didn’t figure out why, the hole that seemed to be gnawing at my gut more and more lately would only get bigger.

“That’s a great offer, but my hand hurts like fuck, and I think I need to ice it down, take some pain pills, and sleep. Maybe some other time.”

Worried brown eyes surveyed the table. “Watch what you take. You did a lot of drinking, and mixing shit is bad.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thank you. Good point.” I took out my wallet. “Look, if you could just get me the bill, then I’ll—”

“Oh, no. Cam, you know? The firefighter? He paid already.”

“Cam paid? Well, shit.” I stared at my wallet, wondering what to do next. “We weren’t even done.”

“He took care of everything though, so it’s fine.”

Maybe my head wasn’t as clear as I thought, because I pulled a twenty from my wallet and tried to give it to him. “I’m sure he did, but here you go. Thanks for everything. See you next time, all right?”

He backed away from me, frowning, and when I was smart enough to look into his eyes, there was pain there. “
No
. I said Cam paid. He took care of everything. You can just go.”

I’d hurt him, damn it. I hadn’t meant anything by the offer. The idea of leaving nothing felt wrong, since I had started the tab before anyone else came along. But then Jake and his friends came and left. And fuck, was that how it was going to be? Like I was the table and people came over and sat down and got up and left without even leaving the bill for me to pay so I felt like I was part of it?

“Dan? Are you okay?”

Marius
. That was his name. “Marius.”

Marius smiled. “That’s me. I thought for a minute maybe you didn’t remember me.”

“How could I forget?” Third lie of the night. Was that commission, omission, or platitude? I should know that.

I still had that twenty clutched in my good hand. “I meant no disrespect. Just wanted to tip my waiter.”