Logan smirked and looked up. “Aren’t you lucky? A private table, at the hottest restaurant in town? Must be pretty pleased with yourself.”
Robbie was, actually. “Why shouldn’t I be? You can’t always be the smuggest person in a room, Logan.”
Logan leaned into Tate’s side and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Yes, I can. Have you seen my husband?”
“Ugh,” Robbie said, but where that comment would’ve once made him feel a twist of jealousy in his gut, he now found himself grinning at Logan’s cockiness, because he totally felt the same way about his two men.
“So,” Logan said as he glanced in the direction Robbie was looking, “how are things with you three?”
Robbie brought his attention back to his friends—and yes, that was exactly who Logan and Tate were, his dear, dear friends—and couldn’t stop the enormous grin from crossing his face.
“That good, huh?”
Robbie nodded enthusiastically. “It’s…amazing.”
“I’m glad,” Logan said.
“If anyone could navigate that craziness, it’s you,” Tate added.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, Mr. Mitchell,” Robbie said.
Tate held his hands up. “That’s how it was meant.”
Robbie laughed. “Speaking of crazy, did Priest tell you that he and Julien took me to a karaoke bar this week?”
Logan’s mouth fell open, much the same way Robbie’s had at karaoke, and then he shook his head. “No. I can’t say that he did. And how was it?”
“Horrible,” Robbie said automatically, and then busted out laughing. “It was so bad, but totally awesome at the same time. I loved every minute of it.”
“Oh yeah?” Logan said, and his eyes held a knowing look.
“Yeah…”
“I’m glad to hear it. So basically, what you’re saying is Priest needs to keep his day job.”
“Uh, definitely.” As the waiters began arriving at the tables, Robbie said, “You two better go and find your seats. It looks like they’re taking orders.”
Logan looked at their invite and tapped it on his hand. “Are you sitting up in your lofty tower tonight, or down here with the peasants?”
That was a good question. Robbie had no idea. “I’m not sure. But after that little meet-and-greet between them and my ma, I need a drink before I sit anywhere.”
“We’ll leave you to it, then,” Tate said, and took Logan’s hand. “Let Julien know we’ll catch him later, after he’s made all his rounds. You ready?”
“Always,” Logan said, and the two of them waved to Robbie and headed off in search of their table.
Robbie turned around to face the bar and scanned the shelves of alcohol behind the two bartenders. As he was trying to decide what he wanted, someone moved up to take the empty spot beside him, and when Robbie glanced to see who it was, he did a double take.
The man was taller than Robbie, by a couple of inches at least, but that wasn’t what had Robbie looking twice. Yeah, no, that would be the way the man was dressed.
In well-worn jeans, a black shirt that was untucked and unbuttoned at the collar, the man was as far removed from black tie as one could be—and that was before Robbie added in the leather jacket, nose piercing, and silver rings adorning his fingers.
Robbie tried not to openly stare at the man so out of place, and yet so casually at home in his skin, but as he leaned down to rest his elbows on the bar, Robbie found it close to impossible.
The man angled his dark head of hair toward him, and Robbie noticed thick black lashes surrounded his chocolate-colored eyes. The stranger then ran his eyes all over Robbie, blatantly checking him out.
“Evenin’,” the man said in a voice that reminded Robbie of cigars and whiskey. It was so smooth and relaxed that Robbie looked over his shoulder to make sure Priest and Julien didn’t think he’d actually invited this guy to come flirt with him.
“Hi,” Robbie said, offering a quick grin to not seem totally rude, and then turned back to face the shelves behind the bar, hoping the bartender—Brian—would come over and take his order.
“This is some turnout tonight, huh?” the man said, and Robbie nodded as his palms began to sweat, but he kept his eyes firmly glued to the back shelf. “Are you friends of the owner or a plus one?”
Robbie was close to saying, I’m a plus two, actually, but replied, “I know Julien, yes.” Brian showed up then and Robbie said, “The same, please, hon.” As Brian went about making a lemon drop, Robbie tried for nonchalance as he said, “What about you?”
“The same,” the stranger said. “I know Julien and his husband, Priest.”
Robbie’s head snapped around at that little tidbit, and the man’s eyes took on a wicked glint.
“That got your attention, didn’t it, bright eyes,” he said, and slid a little closer to Robbie to toss a bill on the bar. “You’re a pretty little thing. They sure have good taste,” the man said, and then looked over Robbie’s shoulder and smirked. “But I’m smart enough to know that if I don’t leave you here now, Priest is going to kill me.”