The O'Brien Way (2 page)
Authors: Carol Lynne
A grin appeared on Moby’s gorgeous mouth. “I’d like that.”
“Maybe you could bring your mother, too,” Sean suggested.
Moby’s face fell.
“Nah.
She seems okay with me now that Dad’s gone, but Mom’s not accepting of my lifestyle. I doubt I’d be able to get her inside
At last Sean got a peek into Moby’s home life. He wondered how bad it had got at Moby’s house while he was growing up. Sean decided to share a piece of his past. “My dad and brothers don’t understand me either. I never thought of myself as feminine, but they’ve always treated me like I didn’t belong in the family.”
“There’s nothing feminine about you.”
“Good to hear,” Sean said with a chuckle. He carried the Christmas card back to the bulletin board and secured it with the push pin. The door opened and several men who worked at the EZ Does It ranch came in, slapping snow from their coats.
Sean was grateful for the customers. Talking with Moby was too easy and sooner or later, Sean knew the good-looking guy would begin to work himself under his skin.
* * * *
“Hey, boss, you feel okay?” Jay asked.
Sean rubbed his forehead and shook his head. He’d hoped all morning his stomach would settle before he opened the pub, but if anything, he was getting sicker. “I feel like shit.”
“Go back upstairs. I’m sure we can handle things for one night.”
Sean shook his head. “There’s no one to tend the bar.”
Jay tried to urge Sean towards the door to his apartment. “I’ll call one of
Erico’s
back-up bartenders. Go on. The last thing you want is to spread something nasty to one of your customers.”
Since relocating to
Do I care?
“See if you can get someone to fill in for me. Until then, I’ll stick it out,” Sean told Jay.
Jay pulled out his phone and walked into the kitchen. He was back several moments later with a smile on his face. “Go on to bed.
Smitty’s
on his way.”
“
Smitty
?
I thought he was still working at The Gym?”
“He is, but since he graduated from college, he’s been moonlighting at The Canoe as a bartender.” Jay grinned. “He’s a good-looking guy.”
“Yeah,” Sean agreed. Why that bothered him, he couldn’t say.
“I’ll keep him away from Moby,” Jay added with a chuckle.
Sean absently rubbed his stomach. The statement struck too close to home and he didn’t like it. “Why would I care?”
Although Jay grinned, he shook his head. “No reason.”
“Don’t go getting ideas in your head about me and Moby.
It’s
not
gonna
happen. I’ve learned my lesson about falling for screwed up men.”
“Ryan was a mess. There’s no denying that, but you did everything you could to help him deal with his issues.”
“Issues?
Ryan had more than issues. He had a mother who brow-beat him to the point the man couldn’t make a single decision on his own.” Sean glanced up as Moby walked into the pub. It didn’t matter how attracted to the man he was, Sean was finished with momma’s boys.
Sean gestured towards the door of his apartment above the pub. “I’m going to go on upstairs. Let me know if you need me.”
“Will do.
I’ll make up a batch of my special chicken noodle soup for you,” Jay told Sean.
“Don’t go to any trouble. You’ll probably have your hands full down here.”
“It’s Wednesday. I’ll have time,” Jay countered.
“What’s going on?” Moby asked, shedding his coat and hat.
“Sean’s sick. I finally managed to convince him to go upstairs and sleep,” Jay said.
Moby’s dark eyebrows drew together. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Sean didn’t like the concern in Moby’s pale green eyes. It would be far too easy to take Moby’s concern for true caring.
Nope, not travelling down that road again.
“I’ll be fine. I just need a few hours of sleep.”
Moby continued to watch Sean but eventually nodded. “Well, I’m here if you need anything.”
Sean broke eye contact and addressed Jay. “Can you fill
Smitty
in on the way I do things?”
Jay laughed.
“Yeah.
I’ll instruct him on
The O’Brien Way
of serving customers.”
“Laugh all you want, but
The O’Brien Way
has proved successful for generations,” Sean grumbled as he pushed through the kitchen door. He was on his way upstairs when the bile started to rise in his throat. With no time to spare, Sean ran into his apartment and straight to the bathroom.
After emptying his stomach, Sean laid on the bathroom floor, his heated cheek soothed by the cool tiles. Maybe if he didn’t move, the churning in his gut would settle. “Kill me now,” he groaned, sitting up to heave once more.
* * * *
Although an evening without Sean looking over his shoulder would’ve been the perfect time to flirt his way to bigger tips, Moby’s heart just wasn’t in it. He couldn’t get the grey pallor of Sean’s skin off his mind.
“Have you checked on Sean?” he asked Jay.
Jay shook his head. “There’re two kinds of men.
Those, like
Erico
, who enjoy being babied when they’re sick and those, like Sean, who’d prefer to be left the hell alone.”
“But he really looked terrible. What if he’s sicker than we thought?” Moby looked towards the ceiling. “Maybe he’s up there suffering because he doesn’t feel comfortable asking for help.”
Jay grinned. “I’ll make a cup of tea and some dry toast and you can take it up.”
“Me?” Although Moby had worried about Sean all evening, he doubted his boss would appreciate him delivering food to his sickbed. “Maybe you should do it. He likes you.”
Jay reached out and squeezed Moby’s shoulder. “He likes you, too. He’s just too damn stubborn to admit it.”
While Moby pondered the meaning of Jay’s statement, the last customer left.
Smitty
had gone home after last call which left Jay, Moby and Sean in the building. Moby followed Jay into the kitchen. “Are you
gonna
stick around until after I check on Sean?”
Jay set a large cup of tea on a tray along with two pieces of dry toast. “
Erico’s
going nuts that I’ve stayed this long. I’m usually home by nine-thirty during the week. Would you mind if I just left you a key to lock up?”
Moby bit the inside of his cheek. He’d feel a lot better if he knew Jay was downstairs. What if Sean got angry that Moby had been left alone in the pub? Although Moby had never been in love, he melted every time Jay spoke of his life with
Erico
. What kind of man would he be if he kept the two lovers apart just because he was afraid of being alone with Sean?
“Okay,” he agreed. “If he fires me, it’ll be up to you to help me find another job.”
Chapter Two
Moby steadied the tray as he opened the door and walked upstairs. “Sean?” he called upon entering the apartment. The room was open and inviting with gleaming wood floors and beams overhead. “Sean?”
Moby heard what sounded like a muffled reply from the opposite end of the apartment and walked towards it. “I brought you some tea.”
“No,” Sean grumbled.
Instead of being in a comfortable bed, Sean was curled in on himself on the bathroom floor, a large towel wrapped around his shaking body. Moby set the tray on the sink and rushed to Sean’s side. The heat emanating from his boss was unbelievable. “You’re burning up.”
“Freezing,” Sean said through chattering teeth.
Despite Sean’s statement, Moby knew he had to get Sean’s fever down. Without a bathtub to cool Sean’s heated skin, Moby had little choice but to get Sean into the small tiled shower. Although roughly the same height, Sean was a hell of a lot more muscular, making him outweigh Moby by at least twenty pounds.
Moby pulled Sean’s makeshift blanket from his hands. “You need to get in the shower.”
Sean shook his head. “I’m going to throw up again.” He managed to push up to a sitting position and heaved bile into the toilet.
Grabbing up the towel, Moby turned on the shower and soaked the plush terrycloth with cool water. He wrung out the towel and carried it back to Sean who had begun a series of dry heaves.
Despite the sweat soaking through his shirt, Sean growled and tried to push the cool towel away from his shivering body.
“No,” Moby said, wrapping his arms around Sean’s torso to keep the towel in place. “We’ve got to get your fever down or call an ambulance.”
“No ambulance,” Sean managed to say into the depths of the toilet bowl.
“Then work with me to lower your body temperature,” Moby pleaded.
Sean nodded and, with Moby’s help, turned to crawl towards the shower. Moby knew the cool shower wouldn’t be comfortable for Sean and decided to hold the shivering man. He reached up and turned on the spray, letting out a momentary yelp when the cold water hit him.
“Sorry,” Moby tried to apologise. As Sean’s tremors grew stronger, Moby began to question his approach. “Maybe I should call someone.”
Sean shook his head and pressed himself against Moby. Despite the cold water raining down on them, Moby could still feel the heat of Sean’s skin through his wet T-shirt.
Moby wrapped his arms around Sean and held the bigger man as he continued to shake. After ten minutes, Moby reached up and turned off the water. It would be a few minutes before he could take an accurate temperature, but now the important thing was getting fluids and pain relievers into Sean.
“I’ll get us some towels,” he said, releasing Sean. Before climbing out of the shower, Moby pulled off his shoes, shirt and jeans. The cold wet underwear clung to his cock uncomfortably, but he didn’t dare strip out of them, not yet anyway.
After grabbing several towels from the shelf, he turned back to Sean. “We need to get you out of those clothes.” As Moby tried to pull the sodden jeans down and off, Sean began to retch once again. “Hang on,” Moby said, helping Sean towards the toilet.
Giving Sean a few moments of privacy, Moby turned his back and quickly dried off, slipping out of his underwear and wrapping a towel around his waist. When he turned around, Sean was resting his cheek on the porcelain bowl, watching him.
“Sorry about this,” Sean mumbled, wiping his mouth.
Moby knelt beside Sean and started drying his back, head and neck. “Don’t apologise. Everyone gets sick.”
“Not me. Not usually.” Sean allowed Moby to help him to his feet.
Before leaving the bathroom, Moby grabbed the trashcan. He rested his free hand on the small of Sean’s back to steady his boss as they made their way across the hall to the bedroom. The tall four-poster antique bed surprised him. “Wow, that’s quite a bed.”
“It was my great
granddad’s
.” Sean took a seat on a straight backed chair in the corner and gestured to the dresser. “Would you mind handing me a pair of shorts
outta
the top drawer?”
Moby set the trashcan down beside the bed and crossed to the dresser. He opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of black briefs. Plundering Sean’s underwear wasn’t his goal, but he couldn’t help running his hand over a silky pair of boxers with red lips on them. The smile was hard to hide as he shut the drawer and walked back to Sean.
With a blanket across his lap, Sean held out his hand to accept the briefs. “Thanks.”
Moby bent and retrieved the wet underwear Sean had removed. “Do you have a dryer?”
Sean nodded.
“Room behind the kitchen.”
“Mind if I toss the clothes in?” Moby asked.
“Sure, go ahead.” Sean continued to sit with his underwear in his hand, obviously waiting for Moby to give him some privacy. Although Sean’s teeth still chattered, his colour looked better.
Moby stepped forward and felt Sean’s forehead, moving his hand down to cup the man’s cheek. “You’d better get in bed. You’re still too warm.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Visibly shivering, Sean held the blanket in front of his groin as he made his way towards the bed.
Moby moved to pull the blankets down and helped steady Sean as he sat on the mattress. Sean dropped the dry underwear beside the bed and crawled under the covers. Although it was just a glimpse, Moby noticed the red hair surrounding Sean’s flaccid cock. It was a shade darker than the hair on his head but just as curly. Staring at the heavily muscled chest right in front of him made Moby’s mouth water. The urge to explore Sean’s body was incredible, but Moby turned and walked towards the door. “I’ll throw these in the dryer and get you something to drink. Your fever might be down but it won’t stay that way for long unless we get some fluid and medicine in you.”
Sean pulled the covers up around his neck. “Whatever goes in is just
gonna
come right back up.”
“At least then you’ll actually have something to throw up.” He left the room and retrieved the tray along with the wet piles of clothing from the bathroom. Calling his mom at two-thirty in the morning wasn’t something he looked forward to, but Moby knew she’d worry if he didn’t.
* * * *
Sean let out a groan as soon as he was left alone. Although it felt nice to have someone take care of him, why did it have to be Moby? The attraction was there, no doubt about it, but Sean had resisted Moby’s allure by telling himself his employee was a shallow, self-absorbed player. It was Moby’s kindness that Sean feared would be his undoing.
He buried his face in his pillow as another round of nausea hit him.
I will not throw up.
The thought of Moby scrubbing the trashcan was heavy incentive to keep the bile in his stomach.
