George's Turn [Brac Pack 8] (3 page)

Trying to figure out why he liked men had kept him up numerous nights in his teenage years. He felt like he let everyone down.

George pushed the depressing thoughts away. There was nothing he could do about it. He was who he was whether he admitted to it or not.

Frank took him upstairs after the dinner rush had slowed to a crawl and the last of the customers were finishing up. The place was small. It had a tiny kitchenette, an open room that made up the dining room and living room. And a closet-size bedroom and a bathroom. It
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was perfect for George. After sharing a bunkhouse pretty much his entire adult life, having his own—as small as it was—was heaven.

George went back downstairs and gathered his belongings from the back of his truck. It wasn’t much. Two suitcases and a duffel bag.

Thankfully, the apartment upstairs was furnished.

He struggled to get the luggage up the narrow steps, tossing everything inside the door. He went back down to the diner to finish cleaning his kitchen. Frank stepped in, leaning against the industrial refrigerator. “So, what did you think of Tank?” George didn’t want to talk about the mountain of a man. He had never seen a guy that big in his entire life, and he was trying to forget him.

Frank wasn’t helping.

“He’s okay. A bit strange.” George laughed nervously, uncomfortable with the topic. “Does he always grab people he just met?”

“Nope, just you.” Frank watched him, probably trying to feel him out. Well, George wasn’t spilling any of his beans.

“Well, I don’t know what his problem is, but I’m not into men, so he can try and complete his harem somewhere else.” George wiped the same spot repeatedly. It troubled him that he was feeling jealous of those men accompanying Tank. It just didn’t make sense.

“That’s not his harem. Those are his good friends’ boyfriends.

The guys earlier with him were just friends as well.” George stopped momentarily then continued to wipe down. He didn’t care if Tank was free game. He wasn’t taking the bait. What the heck was with Frank anyway? Was he some sort of self-proclaimed matchmaker? His curiosity was piqued, though.

“There are gay men here?” George asked nonchalantly, as if it was just a curious question.

“Yep, a whole lot of ’em. Don’t bother us town folk. They contribute a lot to the community, and they’re nice fellas.” Frank walked out of the kitchen, leaving George to sort out this new tidbit of
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information.

George absorbed what Frank had just revealed to him. Not only was the town accepting, but there were openly gay men who lived here? Even if he believed Frank, and he wasn’t sure if he did just yet, Tank still wasn’t his type. Those men weren’t his harem. Just friends?

Dammit, why did Frank have to open his piehole?

George cut the lights and dragged his tired bones upstairs, his mind in a whirl over the emotions assailing him. He thought of Jesse as he dropped down on the couch. His stomach tightened at the betrayal once more. George had loved the man, given his heart freely, and then he was crushed. He couldn’t go through that again.

He dug through his duffel bag and pulled a few CDs out, opening the stereo’s compact disc player up and tossing it in, and finding the song he was looking to hear. “To Make You Feel My Love” by Garth Brooks. He laid his head back against the couch, thinking of his lost love and broken heart. George quickly changed songs. He wasn’t going to sit and wallow in self-pity. It was over, and he needed to move on. Leave Jesse in Wyoming and begin his new life.

His new, lonely life.

* * * *

Tank paced the halls of the Den. He wanted George. He wanted to hold him, claim him. His head hurt thinking of the possible ways to convince the cowboy that they were fated to be together. He pulled up the image of George’s beautiful, crystal-blue eyes and his sandy-blond hair. The goatee was rugged, and Tank thought it added to the rough, manly look. He had a cute cowboy butt, too. A butt Tank was dying to sink into.

“Ugh.” He couldn’t take this. He wanted his mate. Why was he being so damn pigheaded? He should just go down there and demand that George come home with him. He would make the man see that he would love him unconditionally, treat him like a king.

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“Yeah, right, and then get arrested,” Tank mumbled.

“You know, it’s a sign that you’re losing it when you start talking to yourself.” Cody walked up behind Tank.

“I’m not. Well, I am, but I’m so damn frustrated.” Tank rubbed his hands over his head. Why was he torturing himself like this? How did the other warriors handle it when they were claiming their mates?

“What’s got the giant in a tizzy?” Cody raised a brow.

“I found my mate, but he doesn’t want anything to do with me.” Tank leaned against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. Why did it have to be so complicated?

“Whoa. Who?” Cody asked in surprise. This irritated an already irritated man. Didn’t anyone think he deserved to have a mate, or did they think he was only good enough to be a babysitter to theirs? Tank pushed the thought away. He knew he was just being cranky.

“George Knight.” Tank said his name in reverence.

“Wait, my new cook?” Cody owned half the diner and had been a lousy cook for awhile until he and Frank found a replacement. The last one quit when business picked up so quickly. Tank would be forever grateful to the guy who quit. That is, if he ever convinced George they were mates.

“Yeah,” Tank blew out.

“You do know why he came here, right?” Cody squatted down next to Tank who had slid down to the floor.

“No.” He looked over at Cody, hopeful for an answer that may solve his problem.

“He’s been kicked off of three ranches when they found out he was gay and had the love of his life crush his heart by denying him when it counted. He’s bound to be scared to reveal his sexual preference.”

“You think that’s it? That’s why he denied me?” Tank stood, hope flooding him.

“I’d say so, but don’t quote me on it, buddy.” Cody stood as well, clapping Tank on his back.

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Tank watched Cody walk away. So he had to find a different approach for his mate. What? How do you convince a man that hid who he was to not hide it? Well, he was right about one thing, George was going to be a challenge.

* * * *

Tank woke the next morning, making a phone call before he left for the diner. He planned on eating three square meals there every day until his mate gave in.

He waited outside until Cody came and opened the place up.

“Anxious I see.” Cody opened the door and let his mate, Keata, in first, then Tank.

“Tank have mate?” Keata asked as he hopped up on the stool at the counter. Keata was from Japan. He and his cousin Kyoshi had been kidnapped off the streets and smuggled across the ocean, only to get away and end up mating two of the Sentries. He was a dear friend of Tank’s. The little guy could ask Tank for anything, and he would give it.

“Yeah, but mate don’t want Tank.” He sat next to the short mate.

“He will. You good catch.” Keata beamed up at the warrior.

Cody growled. “Flirting with my mate, Tank?”

“He started it.” Tank defended with a grin. Everyone knew that aside from their Commander, Hawk, who killed anyone who looked cross eyed at his mate, Johnny, Cody was head over heels for Keata and extremely protective of him, more so than the rest of the mated wolves. Cody and Hawk took protection to a whole new level. Keata had been kidnapped by the American who originally brought him over here, and Cody went nuts tearing up the video store they had been in, shifting in plain view searching for his mate, the Prince of vampires finally finding and returning Keata.

“Just chill, Tank. Don’t come on too strong,” Cody offered.

Tank took a deep breath then exhaled. “I won’t.” He was nervous
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as hell and excited at the prospect of seeing his mate again. His hands began to sweat and butterflies flapped their wings in his stomach. All the sudden, he felt like he was going to be sick. “I can’t do this.” Tank stood, but Keata pulled at his arm.

“Relax.” Keata patted his arm.

“Yeah, okay. Relax.” Tank sat back down.

“Morning, folks.” George jogged down the steps from his apartment, and Tank shot off of his stool and out the front door.

* * * *

“He doesn’t like people saying ‘morning’?” George stared after Tank, wondering what he had said to upset the guy.

Cody stared openmouthed at the wind Tank left behind when he rushed out. “Guess not.” Cody closed his mouth.

“Should I have said hello?” George eyed the door. He had decided last night that he would play things by ear, feel the town out, and maybe, just maybe, give Tank half a chance and see what happened.

If they were really as gay-friendly as Frank claimed, then maybe he could have a chance at a real life here.

Guess he just found out what would happen.

“No morning person,” a short man sitting at the counter defended Tank.

“Hi. Who are you?” George extended his hand only to have one of his two bosses growl at him. George shrugged Cody off and shook the little cuties hand.

“Keata, Cody’s mate.” He smiled.

“Mate?” He looked from Keata to Cody.

“He’s from England.” Cody was obviously covering Keata’s mistake. But the question was, what mistake?

“But he’s Japanese.” George scratched his head.

“Yeah, uh, migrated?” Cody quickly went to the office he shared with Frank, removing himself before he stuck his foot deeper into his
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mouth. George figured that much out, but what was he hiding?

“You really from England?” George asked Keata.

“I, uh, don’t speak English.” Keata ran after Cody.

Well, he seemed to know how to clear a room real quick. George looked once more at the door before he went into the kitchen to get things ready for the day.

* * * *

Tank sat on the steps to the post office, feeling like a real idiot.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He groaned.

George was actually speaking to him, and he ran out of there like a damn pup. Tank ran his hands over his head. He needed to get back in there, but would his mate still talk to him? Standing, he brushed off his bottom and walked back to the diner.

No one was around, so he took a seat at the booth. The morning rush started, and Kitty coming over to take his order. Tank ate slow, waiting for another chance to talk to George.

A delivery person came in with a bouquet of flowers, handing them over to Kitty.

“For me?” She smiled and smelled the yellow roses.

“No, ma’am, they’re for a George Knight.” The delivery man had her sign then left.

“George, you got some damn flowers,” Kitty yelled to the back.

Tank wondered what her problem was. Was she jealous she didn’t get any? He watched George come out and look around then take the card from the metal holder. He opened it then blushed, his eyes looking to Tank before darting away.

“Who’s got the hots for you?” Kitty tried to look over George’s shoulder.

“Stop.” George shrugged her away, aware Tank was watching.

“I still think you should go out with me. I’ll make it worth your while.” She pinched George’s ass cheek.

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Tank growled. So that’s why she acted jealous. She wanted his mate. Tank was going to have a talk with Cody about sexual harassment on the job.

George grabbed the vase and headed back into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder at Tank quickly before he smiled and disappeared.

Tank mentally air pumped his arm. Score one for Operation Win His Mate.

When Tank’s plate came, it had extra helpings of hash browns and four eggs instead of two.

“Guess his mind is on those flowers. He gave you more than you ordered.” Kitty sat his plate down.

Tank pulled his lip up in a sneer then caught it. He didn’t want to out George if he wasn’t ready for it.

“Hungry, big guy?” Kitty winked at him.

“Always.” Tank pasted a smile on that he didn’t feel. He was really beginning not to like her.

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Chapter Three

George had just pulled his breakfast quiche from the oven, setting it on a cooling rack, when he heard the door swish open from the diner. He looked over to see Tank standing right inside the kitchen.

George looked back down at the oven, not knowing what to say.

“Hi,” Tank offered first.

“Uh, hi.” George straightened, looking over to the counter to see who was watching. Kitty was over at a table taking orders, not paying any attention.

“No one saw me come in.” Tank rubbed his hands on the front of his jeans. George was glad he wasn’t the only one nervous as hell.

“You really shouldn’t be in here.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. Tank’s face fell.

“Okay, sorry to bother you.” Tank turned to leave.

“Wait, I─I shut down around nine. Maybe we could hang out or something.” George felt like he was sixteen all over again, fumbling over words, not sure what to say. He knew he said the right thing when Tank’s dark brown eyes lit up.

“Okay. I’ll be back then.” Tank left with a big, goofy grin on his face.

George smiled. For a big guy, he sure was insecure. He liked that.

It made Tank seem less intimidating.

He whistled his favorite country song as he worked around the kitchen the rest of the day, stopping occasionally to smell the beautiful flowers Tank had sent him. Time seemed to move slowly, maybe because he couldn’t stop glancing at the wall clock.

“How ya hanging in there, George?”

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“So far, so good. I hadn’t anticipated such a crowd. When you said rush, I was expecting maybe half of what we get.” George chuckled as he wiped the marble top island off.

“That’s why the last cook quit. You sure you can handle it? I need to know. Before you came, Cody was cooking, and let me tell you, it was frightening.” Frank shuddered.