Page 1 of Absent Without Leave
Chapter One
Aiden O’Leary’s arm stops mid-wipe.
Jake Hardison has just entered O’Leary’s Pub looking as good as Aiden has ever seen him look. A black cotton tee shirt hugs Jake’s well-built torso and disappears into dark blue jeans that fit him like…well, like a pair of blue jeans ought to fit a man. Snug and comfortable, like his own skin. Dog tags clink as he approaches the bar and sits on the stool right in front of Aiden.
His gut quivers and his dick twitches. Even after seven years, Jake has the ability to affect Aiden just by being him. As a member of the United States Armed Forces, of the Army’s Special Forces, he’s larger than life. Not many men could or would put himself in harm’s way or fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. A man who knows what loyalty and honor are all about. A man who can be trusted. Aiden is all about trust right now.
Jake probably doesn’t even recognize Aiden.
The scent of a citrus-based cologne wafts toward Aiden on the cool air Jake has pulled into the bar with him. His overheated face appreciates the breeze.
Jake’s gray eyes wander over Aiden from his head to his shoulders and as far down as the bulk of the bar allows. No doubt Aiden’s whirlwind cleanup of the corner tables has left his face flushed and damp. The one and only guy he’s ever fantasized about shows up in the bar when he’s three-quarters of the way through a shift and probably looking pretty worn out and feeling particularly horny. The fates are just damned cruel.
“Evening, Aiden,” says old Mr. Travis, distracting Aiden from Jake for a moment as he and Burnley shuffle in for their bi-weekly visit.
“Hey, Mr. Travis. I’ll bring your lager right over.”
Rick slides him the pint glass of dark liquid and Aiden reaches into the biscuit jar.
“Be right back,” he says to Jake and crosses the bar. “How’s the arthritis today, boy?” Aiden asks, kneeling to scratch behind the mastiff’s floppy ears and slip him the biscuit.
“We made it here with only a single stop,” says Mr. Travis. “So a good day.”
“Glad to hear it. And how are you, Mr. Travis?”
“The grandkids are coming to visit soon,” he says.
“That’s awesome. I know it’s been a while. I bet they’re getting big.”
“They are. Braden starts kindergarten in the fall.”
“That’s…wow.”
“Wow, indeed. Now go on and let a man enjoy his beer in peace.”
Aiden rises. “Holler if you need anything.” He steps back behind the bar. “Sorry about that.”
Jake waves the apology away.
“Now…what can I get for you?” Aiden asks.
“The best thing you’ve got on tap.”
The rumble of Jake’s voice rolls over Aiden like a shock wave in slow motion, eliciting thoughts of tangled sheets and tangled limbs. Which is ridiculous. As far as Aiden knows, Jake is as het as they come.
He swallows and says, “Coming right up.” Voice cracking is a near thing. Fuck.
The few hookups Aiden has had since he and Joe broke up had served their purpose. Connections with another human being, superficial though they were, and getting off. The one guy he’d dated had wanted to take things slow. Slow is all well and good, but Christ, a man has needs.
Aiden has had a crush on Jake with his gray eyes and dark hair since the tenth grade when Aiden’s brother, Sean, started high school, joined the baseball team, and started bringing teammates home like stray dogs. Aiden in no way resembles Jake’s high school dates. First of all, he isn’t female. Neither is he curvy, busty, or blond.
During college, Aiden had been determined to transform himself from geeky nerd to Greek god. Working out and buffing up had been a priority. He’d wanted to shed his high school image, to return from college looking like the kind of guy he wanted to go out with. A guy like Jake. His base looks though…strawberry blond hair and pale skin were a gift of his Irish heritage. Any sort of heat, real or metaphorical, and his face turns an unflattering geranium color. Sadly, there’s nothing he can do about that. Prince Harry and Rupert Grint have made being ginger cool, so he’s learned to accept the downsides.
Aiden sets a disposable coaster on the shiny mahogany between Jake’s elbows and places his beer on it. Glancing at the large clock on the wall behind him, he says, “Kitchen closes in fifteen. You need anything else?”
A soft scoff leaves Jake’s mouth. “A place to stay.” He sips his beer, eyes never leaving Aiden’s.
Like tumblers in a lock, pieces slip into place.Holy shit.
