Chapter One

K eegan's heart was in his throat, pulsing in time to the music blaring through the speakers. Just breathe. In and out. There was no reason to be nervous. Returning to the Thirsty Cowboy was his big idea, though his mission and sidekick vastly differed from his previous visit. Eighteen months ago, he'd thought men flocked to the bar for the drinks. He might've even asked if they served good food. His friends had colorfully explained that the patrons were there to quench a different thirst. And now, Keegan was there to do the same, and he'd brought Sven, the king of seduction, for guidance and moral support.

They'd chosen a table near the corner that let them observe a large expanse of the bar. Keegan's gaze kept returning to the couples on the dance floor, but he wouldn't let it linger for fear his memories of the one perfect dance he'd shared with Kerry Hart would ruin his chances of getting laid. After shooting down Sven's suggestions for twenty minutes, Keegan wondered if it was too late to save himself from a lifetime of longing. He compared each man to the one he'd never have, and they always fell short.

"Oh! What about him?" Sven gestured to a tall, dark-haired guy approaching the bar. A pale blue Henley stretched across an impressive chest, and dark-wash jeans hugged a nice ass. "He has a gorgeous smile, and look at those dimples. Bet he has a matching set just above that fine ass." Sven mimicked an alarm going off. "And I'm picking up big dick energy, even from this distance." Keegan wasn't sure what range Sven got with his big-dick detector, but he wasn't about to question the master's verdict. Sven waggled his brows at him and said, "I know you have a thing for dark-haired, brawny men."

It was the closest his friend had come to calling out Keegan's crush on Kerry, who also happened to be Sven's stepbrother. Lately, Keegan detected a little push in Kerry's direction from Sven and the rest of the Hart clan. The idea was ridiculous, especially since Sven had once cautioned him against falling for Kerry. Keegan would neither confirm nor deny his friend's suspicions. He tilted his head and considered the hot guy who leaned against the bar while waiting for the bartender. The man was fit and fine, for sure. He wore his dark hair short and neat, but the gelled strands didn't invite someone to touch them. Kerry was a few months past due for a haircut, but the longer curls framing his face were sexy and tempted Keegan to test their softness. Keegan usually loathed beards or facial hair, which should've been a point in the stranger's favor since he rocked a clean-shaven look. But Kerry's thick bristles made him look more like a plush-mouthed pirate and didn't remind Keegan of the bearded Salvation Anew members who'd wielded crushing slurs as painful as physical blows.

"Ahh. Have we found a winner?" Sven asked.

He hummed as if considering the question. The guy turned and scanned the room, and Keegan saw that his eyes were light, not black as pitch. Miriam—he'd stopped thinking of her as his mother—had warned him about black-eyed demons and the chaos they could cause during her fanatical religious teachings. He'd grown up looking for soul-snatching beasts around every corner, but it had taken Keegan twenty-three years of abuse and nearly two years of intense therapy to recognize the real monster had given birth to him. Keegan had since witnessed the visual representation of the black-eyed demons Miriam mentioned while watching reruns of Supernatural . Kerry's eyes weren't anything like those portrayed on the show, but Keegan was sure the man was on a first-name basis with chaos.

"Well?" Sven prompted.

"He's cute."

Sven growled and briefly hung his head before meeting Keegan's gaze. "Cute? Baby, no. We don't throw that word around unless we want to insult someone. Cute is for kittens and puppies. Cute is the kiss of death for a romantic endeavor."

"Oh." Keegan mentally added that to the list of things he didn't know or understand. Who the hell made up these dating rules, anyway? "Sorry."

Sven knocked his shoulder against Keegan's and patted his thigh under the table. "Not to worry. That's why I'm here, Goldilocks."

" Goldilocks ?"

"Too big. Too hairy. Too horny."

Keegan snorted. "That isn't how the fairy tale goes, and I didn't say any of those things when I—"

"Rejected every eligible man in the building?" Sven asked.

"I…" The denial died on Keegan's tongue. He had dismissed every single suggestion with barely any consideration. Keegan forced his gaze back to the bar and was surprised to find the hot guy staring at him. The stranger winked, and Keegan sat taller despite his earlier dismissal. Keegan hoped his smile didn't look as forced as it felt. It certainly hadn't discouraged the man, who held their eye contact until the bartender arrived to take his drink order. Keegan sighed with relief and forced his attention back to Sven. "I'm trying."

"It's not too late for trivia night," Sven offered. He'd missed the exchange between Keegan and the stranger, or he would've jumped all over it. "If you're not ready for intimacy again, then you're not ready."

"I am." But he didn't want it with just anybody. He wanted it with—

"Kerry!" At first, he thought Sven had read his mind, but then his friend waved dramatically to get someone's attention.

Keegan turned his head and locked eyes on not just someone but the one . Shit! He'd come to the Thirsty Cowboy to get Kerry out of his head, but there he was, striding purposefully toward their table.

"Oh! Oh!" Sven cried excitedly and slapped Keegan's leg. "I think we've caught a live one. The guy from the bar is heading over," Sven said.

Keegan forced his gaze away from Kerry and saw that the hot guy from the bar was heading toward their table too. His stride was every bit as determined as Kerry's, and he had the advantage since he was closer. Kerry noticed the guy from the bar and must've recognized the man's intention because he lengthened his stride to arrive at the table simultaneously. Side by side, the similarities were startling, but the differences were glaring. One oozed seduction and warmth, while the other was a walking thundercloud.

The stranger smiled at Keegan and said, "Hi, I'm Ken."

"No, you're out of here," Kerry told him.

Ken turned to object until he saw the scowl on Kerry's face. "Bye."

Sven threw up his hands in frustration as Ken hightailed it to safety. "The cockblocker strikes again!"

Keegan wanted to ask Sven what he meant, but he couldn't look away from the dark gaze trained on him.

"What are you doing here?" Kerry growled.

"Um, duh," Sven said before Keegan could form a response. "We're here for the same reason as everyone else."

Kerry kept his eyes locked on Keegan and only managed a grunt. The sound triggered a primal response in Keegan's belly, and he fought the urge to squirm.

Sven touched Keegan's shoulder and said, "I'm showing Keegan the ropes."

Kerry narrowed his eyes, and a dark flush bloomed on his cheeks. "Ropes?"

"You know," Sven continued casually, unaware or uncaring of his brother's elevated tension. "I am going to teach Keegan how to seduce a man." Then he tsked, and Keegan knew without looking that Sven was raking a disapproving gaze over Keegan's wardrobe choices. He admired Sven's confidence in wearing crop tops and leather pants or booty shorts, but he hadn't reached that level of swagger and probably never would. Keegan wore a T-shirt a size too small and tight jeans to show off the physique he'd developed in the gym, and that would have to be enough. It had felt like a big step when he stood in front of his bedroom mirror at the ranch, but now he felt ridiculous.

"Seduce a man?" A strange energy snapped and crackled around Kerry as if he could conjure a thunderstorm at whim. At least he didn't double over and laugh at the notion of Keegan seducing someone.

"Ker Bear, no one is getting laid if you just stand here all night and repeat what I say. You look a little off. Are you okay?" Sven extended his leg under the table and pushed a chair toward his brother. "Maybe you should sit down." Keegan detected humor in his friend's voice, not concern, so he turned his head to study Sven. Pouty lips curved into a coy smile, and mischief twinkled in his cobalt eyes. "Why don't I go get you a drink from the bar while Keegan tells you all about how his therapist wants him to get laid?"

Kerry placed a beefy hand on the back of the chair and squinted at Keegan. "You want to say that again?"

Keegan swallowed hard. "I didn't say it. He did." He hooked his thumb and turned his head in Sven's direction, only to see him strolling across the room. "I didn't even hear him leave. He talks so much that I forget how stealthy he can be." Keegan couldn't say the same thing about the hulk, who pulled his chair away from the table with enough force to make its legs screech against the bar floor. Keegan winced and braved a look at Kerry, whose expression had grown impossibly darker. To lighten the mood, Keegan said, "The idea is ridiculous, right?"

Kerry dropped into the chair, placed his elbows on the table, and glared at Keegan as if he were public enemy number one. "Which one? That your therapist is acting like a pimp or that you've chosen Sven as your love guru?"

Something about Kerry's attitude rubbed him the wrong way. He knew the man was hurting. Hell, Kerry had recently learned the person who killed his sister twenty-five years ago was a woman he loved like family. But Keegan's days of being someone's punching bag were over. He straightened his spine and pulled his shoulders back. "Brendan isn't a pimp. He's someone who cares a great deal about my happiness and well-being. And who better than Sven to give me pointers on how to meet men?" Keegan notched his chin higher in a challenge. "Unless you'd like to volunteer as tribute. Is there something you'd like to teach me?"

Kerry's raven-black brows crept toward his hairline, and his mouth slanted into a smirk. Keegan's heart tripped over itself as he braced for a response. Had he crossed the line they'd been straddling since their first dance?

" The Hunger Games ?" Kerry sidestepped the question, and Keegan felt like he dodged a bullet.

Keegan controlled his breathing so his relief wouldn't whoosh out of him in a dramatic exhale. He responded with the three-finger salute Katniss gave in the movies.

Kerry shook his head and sighed. "But you haven't watched Jurassic Park ."

"Nope." He knew the franchise was Kerry's favorite, but he wasn't sorry he prioritized The Hunger Games. Besides, he hoped to watch the dinosaur movies with Kerry someday, but it felt like he was waiting for an invitation that would never come. "Secular music, movies, and television were forbidden in my home, and I have to catch up on twenty-five years of pop culture. Cut me some slack."

Kerry crossed his arms over his chest. "I question your priorities."

"It seems like you have a lot of opinions about what I should do with my free time and my body," Keegan said.

Kerry's beautiful mouth formed a grim line as he stared at Keegan with a stormy expression. "The kitten has claws."

And Keegan would like to take them to Kerry's back as he—

"Here we go," Sven loudly announced as he thunk ed a frosty mug of beer onto the table hard enough to slosh some over the side. The intrusion made Keegan and Kerry jump like they'd gotten caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Keegan watched the foam slowly glide down the side of the glass and had the strangest urge to lick it. He had little experience with beer, but he'd need to get acquainted with it if he wanted to play a significant role in Cash's future alehouse. Foam-licking wasn't included in the training his mentor had excitedly suggested to him a few weeks ago. Yet Keegan's tongue darted out and slowly swiped his bottom lip. A hoarse grunt came from across the table, and Keegan darted his gaze back to the brooding man whose onyx eyes seemed transfixed by the motion. Kerry blinked and shook his head as if to clear his thoughts or return from somewhere he hadn't meant to go.

But Keegan wasn't willing to relinquish the ground he'd made. "Kitten, huh? I guess it's an improvement over what you called me the first time we met here."

"Oh, this sounds titillating," Sven said, leaning in. "What did he call you?"

"Mind your own business," Kerry told Sven.

Keegan kept his gaze locked on Kerry when he answered his friend's question. "He said this meat market was no place for a little lamb like me. That was a long time ago, and as you've pointed out, I'm not the same person I was back then." The dance he'd shared with Kerry probably only lasted three minutes, but it changed his life. He doubted the encounter had even registered as a blip on Kerry's radar.

"God, this is good," Sven said. "Tell me more."

Kerry scowled at his brother. "Stay out of it. You've caused enough trouble tonight." He turned to Keegan and growled, "Dance with me."

Keegan faked a swoon in his chair and fanned his face with his hand. "How could I resist such a sweet invitation?"

Kerry stood up fast enough to nearly topple his chair. "Now, Kee. I want to talk to you and don't want him to overhear." He jabbed his finger in Sven's direction, and Keegan turned his head to catch his friend watching them with rapt attention. He'd placed his elbows on the table, laced his fingers together, and rested his chin on the bridge they made. The little shit didn't bother to fake his interest.

Sven batted his eyelashes. "Most people take it to the parking lot or restroom."

"That isn't the kind of talking I intend," Kerry growled. The king of laid-back charm exhibited a vastly different personality, and Keegan didn't know what to make of it.

"Pity, and since when have you danced to fast music?" Sven countered.

The current song ended, and a slow rhythm blared through the speakers before Kerry could form his answer. He triumphantly pointed both hands toward the ceiling as if his wishes alone conjured the switch.

Sven straightened in his chair and pulled a supersized fruity cocktail toward him. "It seems my work here is done," he said before pursing his lips around the straw and sucking hard. The provocative pose no doubt earned a collective groan from his fan club. "Have fun, boys."

Kerry shook his head and walked off without waiting to see if Keegan had followed. But, of course, he would. He sighed and pushed back from the table. It took everything in his power not to bound after him like a desperate little puppy. Keegan glanced over his shoulder and caught Sven watching them with a smug expression that halted him mid-step. Not long ago, Sven cautioned Keegan to guard his heart around Kerry, and now his friend made shooing motions to encourage Keegan to follow Kerry onto the dance floor. Sven had told him Kerry would be tending bar at the Feisty Bull but hadn't seemed surprised when Kerry showed up. Keegan smelled a rat. Was that what Kerry had meant when he'd accused Sven of causing trouble?

"I look like a dumbass standing on the dance floor by myself," Kerry called out.

When Keegan turned back around, a slender guy with light brown hair had stepped into Kerry's personal space.

"That invitation wasn't for you," Keegan snarled, surprising himself with the ferocity in his voice. "Scram."

The guy curled up his fingers to mimic cat claws and said, " Meow ."

Kerry seemed to get a big kick out of his feisty display if the massive smile on his face was any indication. "Even that guy knows you have claws."

"Don't get a big ego," Keegan said.

"Why not? Everything else on me is big."

Kerry looped his arms low around Keegan's waist and pulled him close. Too close. Keegan's nose nearly collided with Kerry's collarbone, but it allowed him to inhale Kerry's intoxicating scent without being a creeper. Keegan inhaled subtly to get another whiff of cedarwood, leather, and something smoky before he eased back a little and circled his arms around Kerry's neck. He willed himself not to take the bait with Kerry's comment on his size, but he couldn't help himself.

"Well, a guy your size would look ridiculous with little feet," Keegan quipped, refusing to feed into the man's inflated ego. "You'd tip over."

"Yeah, I was talking about my feet." Sarcasm dripped off his tongue, and Keegan longed to suck it off.

His recent thoughts about Kerry and their growing intensity rattled Keegan. It would only fluster him more to catalog the size of Kerry's features, such as the warm, large hands resting near the swells of Keegan's ass, the broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room from his view, or Kerry's huge, cocky smile. The man knew the effect he had on other people, and the spreading warmth in Keegan's lower belly reminded him why he didn't want to focus on Kerry's powerful attributes, lest his mind wandered too far astray again. Instead, Keegan considered the similarities and differences between their first dance and this one.

Keegan's heart still tried to pound its way out of his chest, but he didn't let anxiety drown out all his other senses this time. He swayed naturally to the music rather than woodenly turning in a circle, keeping a foot of space between himself and the gentle giant. Kerry had pulled him flush against his body this time, and Keegan was more than happy to keep it that way. The heat and power radiating off Kerry were more intoxicating than Sven's enormous cocktail. Their changed physical dynamic was impressive, but the emotional shift was what kept Keegan awake, aching and longing late into the night. They were inexorably drawn to one another, but neither seemed willing to do anything about it.

The glimmer in Kerry's eyes changed from ornery to something else. Surprise? A different kind of awareness? It felt like Keegan should at least be able to recognize the response after years of intensive therapy, but the emotion eluded him. Kerry leaned in, and Keegan thought for a moment he might kiss him, but Kerry nuzzled his nose against Keegan's temple instead. Black dots danced before his eyes, and Keegan realized he was holding his breath. He inhaled deeply, and a lungful of oxygen cleared his vision.

Kerry lowered his mouth to Keegan's ear. "Eighteen months, three weeks, and two days."

The husky voice and Kerry's proximity made it hard for him to think. "Huh?"

Kerry pulled back and stared into his eyes. "You said our dance was a long time ago. It's been eighteen months, three weeks, and two days."

Hoping not to betray his shock, Keegan said, "You don't know the exact hour?"

Kerry lifted his arm and glanced at his watch. "Eighteen months, three weeks, two days, and twenty-two hours." When he returned his hand to Keegan's waist, it landed lower so that his fingertips dipped into Keegan's back pocket. "You aren't the same person I met back then, but this bar is still no place for you." The surly, arrogant remark almost ruined Kerry's stunning admission, and Keegan didn't think it was an accident.

"I don't agree." Keegan replayed the advice Sven had given him during their ride to the bar. He angled his head just so and peeked up at Kerry from beneath his eyelashes. He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip and barely resisted a giggle when Kerry's dark gaze dropped to his mouth. Feeling emboldened, Keegan raised his hand and twirled one of Kerry's curls around his finger. It was even softer than it looked. Kerry briefly closed his eyes, and his chest rose higher on his next inhale. His hand inched deeper into Keegan's pocket until his long fingers cupped Keegan's ass.

Kerry's dark eyes burned with intensity, even as he said, "Sven has taught you well, but those tricks won't work on me."

"Is that so?" Keegan asked. He slowly withdrew his finger from Kerry's hair and settled his hand over Kerry's racing heart.

"Yes."

"That's too bad," Keegan said, adding a heavy sigh for effect. "Maybe I should go find Ken and see how they work on him." He took a step back, and Kerry's hold tightened.

"We're not done talking," Kerry growled.

"Look who's turned into the Big Bad Wolf," Keegan teased. "Maybe you're not done talking, but I'm looking for something more than conversation tonight."

"God, I'm going to kill my brother," Kerry snarled.

Keegan loved how the men rarely referred to themselves as stepbrothers, but it wasn't the time to mention it, not with Kerry's penetrating stare boring holes into his skull. "Seems like a harsh penalty for helping a friend. If you want to be mad at anyone, you should be mad at me."

"I'm not angry. I just thought you were going to be at trivia night. Seeing you here caught me by surprise."

"And I thought you were tending bar," Keegan said. "I didn't expect to run into you either." They'd been manipulated by the master. Maybe he'd talked Kerry out of killing Sven so he could do it.

"I needed a break," Kerry said.

"From me?" The question was out before Keegan could stop it.

Black brows drew together in a scowl. "A break from you? No. I've been working extra shifts at the rescue station to cover vacations and paternity leave. Why would you ask me that?"

Keegan shrugged like the conversation didn't mean anything when it felt like he had so much riding on Kerry's answers. "I'm constantly underfoot. One of my best friends is your brother, and the other is married to your cousin." Keegan and Kerry had even been the best men at Rueben and Seth's wedding two weeks ago.

Kerry, Seth, and Sven's large, boisterous family had unofficially adopted Keegan into their clan and invited him to every family dinner and celebration. Kerry's mom was technically no longer a Hart since she remarried over twenty years ago, but apparently, the family's motto was "Once a Hart, always a Hart" because they held tight to their claim on her and welcomed Steven and Sven with open arms. And since Miriam had alienated their biological family with her extremist beliefs, Keegan found the Harts' inclusion both beautiful and addictive.

Kerry's thunderous expression returned. "What are you talking about?"

"First, I infiltrated your family, and now you won't be able to avoid me at the Feisty Bull since my first shift is tomorrow night." Working with their sommelier and hospitality crew would provide a lot of experience for the alehouse, so Keegan had jumped at the opportunity when Kerry's aunt and uncle offered him a job. Had that been a mistake?

"So, you're here to give me space and aren't trying to hook up with a stranger because your therapist suggested it?"

"More than one thing can be true," Keegan said.

"That isn't an answer," Kerry countered.

"Isn't it? And you haven't exactly answered my question either."

Kerry snorted and rolled his eyes. "I'm not here because I'm trying to avoid you. I don't think you've infiltrated my family."

Keegan swallowed hard. "I don't bother you?"

Kerry withdrew his hand from Keegan's pocket and settled it at his waist. "Oh, you very much do, but not the way you think." He cycled through a deep, slow breath before he spoke again. "I want to hear about your therapist's instructions."

Embarrassment heated Keegan's cheeks and made him look away. It was hard enough discussing it with Sven, who had zero boundaries, but he squared his shoulders and met Kerry's dark gaze. "When I started treatment, Brendan recommended I abstain from emotional and physical entanglements to focus on healing myself. I've made a lot of progress, and Brendan thinks I'm ready to get out there and—"

"Fuck?"

Keegan choked on his next breath. "Date. Meet guys. Embrace my queerness and freaking revel in it. I'll never accept my desires are normal if I don't immerse myself into healthy interactions."

"So fucking?" Kerry's one-track mind irritated him to no end.

"Isn't that part of healthy interactions?" Keegan fired back. "Or do you think I should spend the rest of my life lonely?"

Kerry's eyes narrowed, and his mouth thinned. "Of course not."

"I've suppressed my instincts and hated myself for far too long. I want to live and love. I want liberation, damn it, and I want to—"

"Fuck."

"Yes!" Keegan shouted. "I want to fuck!" Flames of humiliation licked up his neck and face, but Keegan was on a roll. "I want to wallow in a powerful orgasm and not weep in shame afterward. Do you have any idea how mortifying that is?"

Kerry stilled suddenly and lifted his hands to cup Keegan's face. His expression softened as he searched Keegan's eyes. The moment felt huge, like they stood at the precipice of something big, scary, and wonderful. Was Kerry going to kiss him? "Kee—"

Someone plowed into Kerry's back, breaking the intimate bubble they'd created on the dance floor. Kerry dropped his hands and turned to face their interloper.

"Dude," the stranger said, staggering a few steps backward. His half-lidded eyes widened in alarm when he got a load of Kerry's dark expression. "Hey, are you Kerry Hart?"

"Yes."

The man's expression sobered immediately, and his posture went from relaxed and drunk to erect and astute. "Sorry about that." He extended his hand toward Kerry's, who reciprocated the gesture without question. But before their palms met, the guy pulled his free arm from around his back and slapped an envelope against Kerry's hand. "You've been served."