Page 52 of Skin Deep

Our new waiter flashed a big grin and a wink. “Sure thing. Anything for you?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you but… Can I ask you something?” I glanced around before leaning forward. “How well do you know the guy sitting at the table over there?”

Beau glanced toward where Bowen was sitting before shrugging and crossing his arms. “I know everybody who comes in here. You’d be smart to steer clear. Especially you, honey.” He nodded to Xander. “Truth be told, most of the guys around here aren’t the type smart boys should ask questions about. Dangerous types.”

“Does that include you?” Xander asked.

Beau smirked and put a hand on his hip. “Honey, don’t let my dashing good looks fool you. I’m the most dangerous little fox in the den. Not that these assholes know or care. Far as they’re concerned, I just pour the drinks.” He jerked his chin toward me. “Why are you interested?”

“I’m not,” I lied.

“Well, between you and me, the fewer questions you ask in here, the longer you get to live. And the longer you live, the more you drink, and the more secure my job is. Let me go see what I can do about that blowjob, honey.” He winked at Xander and walked away.

As soon as the waiter left I gave Xander a shove. “Quit flirting with everything that moves, would you?”

“That’s why you brought me, though, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t bring you to flirt with the help.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

When Beau came back a few minutes later, it was with some whipped cream topped monstrosity of a shot and a smirk. “You know, I don’t get to make too many of these,” he said, putting the shot down in front of Xander.

Of course, Xander didn’t throw it back like a normal shot. Instead of using his hands, he put his whole mouth around the glass and leaned back, letting the drink slide down his throat, not even touching the glass until it was empty.

Beau chuckled. “And I haven’t seen anyone do that since that bachelorette party that was in here a few months ago.” Beau’s face soured. “Ah, shit.”

The stink of cheap cologne filled the air as another man leaned on the back of the booth where we were seated. “You harassing my help, War?”

“No, sir,” Beau answered. “We were just—”

“Fuck off, Beau,” Sergei snapped. “Get back behind the bar where you fuckin’ belong and quit talking to customers.”

Beau gave us an apologetic glance before walking off.

Sergei hopped over the back of the knockoff leather seat and landed in the booth next to me. “So, what were you three talking about, huh?”

I leveled a hard glare at him. “None of your damn business.”

Sergei’s whole face was wrong. Too perfect, almost like someone had made him from a mold. His dark eyes shimmered with malice and his perfect, slick dark hair was never out of place. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms. Though he was by no means as big as Pax, Sergei was an intimidating presence. Attractive, too, at least by conventional standards. Enough that you’d think women would be throwing themselves at him, though I’d never seen one give him the time of day. Maybe he was gay too and couldn’t admit it.

“We were just ordering drinks and chatting,” Xander added with a shrug.

“I hope so,” Sergei said. “Because I don’t appreciate people coming into my place of business and asking too many questions. Especially a bunch of queers.”

“Message received,” I said and picked up my drink. “Now can we enjoy our evening in peace?”

A wide grin split his face and he patted me on the back. “But I want to catch up with an old friend. It’s been an age since I’ve seen you, Warrick. Thought you moved to Florida to marry some golfer.”

“Too much sun,” I lied. “Wasn’t for me.”

He gestured to someone, and an amber drink appeared in his hand. “So, what’s this I hear about you investigating the ripper, eh?”

I frowned. “Who told you that?”

“I heard you met with your father about it at Zelinski’s. They have good pierogi, though not as good as the ones they have over at Tzarina’s.”

A chill went through me at the mention of that restaurant. It was where Brandon and I had gone that night. The night he was killed. It was Tatty’s great aunt’s place, so I thought it would be safe. I had been so stupid, so blinded by love, that I didn’t even think about it being a vory-owned establishment, and how our kissing between courses would be received. I hadn’t cared back then.

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