They moved to a small table where the four of them sat down and bullshitted. Mason made his way to the table at some point, bringing them another pitcher of beer.
“Where are you from?” Wes leaned back in his chair and asked.
“Denver. I owned a few restaurants out there but got sick of the city. Sold ’em all and moved here.” He wiped his hands on a towel before slinging it over his shoulder. “What about you guys?”
They went down the line, Cooper explaining he’d lived here since he was a kid, Braden that he’d been here almost a year, followed by Noah then Wes. There was only one other person working the bar, so Mason excused himself after that.
Wes leaned toward him. “Noah was right. He wants you.”
“Most people do.” Braden winked at him.
Wes punched him in the leg but Braden grabbed onto his wrist, holding Wes’s hand there, and damned if he didn’t just let it rest on Braden’s inner thigh.
Noah and Cooper mumbled something about going somewhere or doing something, but Braden wasn’t really paying attention. He just knew they’d left them alone.
“How’s the Squirt?” Braden asked.
“Turning her cousin’s room into a fort. She was pretty damn happy to get out of the house.” His voice was slightly somber when he spoke.
“Eh. Don’t take it personal. Forts are pretty cool.”
He smiled when Wes laughed.
Under the table, Braden locked his fingers through Wes’s as they rested on his leg. He turned when he heard a familiar laugher and saw that a few of the guys from the firehouse came in and were seated at the bar.
“Am I allowed to be glad you came?” he said to Wes.
“When I’m drunk, you’re pretty much allowed to do whatever you want.”
He had this sexy, sweet, loopy look in his eyes. His brown hair messier than it usually was. The urge to rub his cheek against Wes’s facial hair hit him. Jesus, he liked seeing Wes like this. Hated the fact that he had to be drunk to feel free, but Braden couldn’t stop staring at him, either. He was all responsibility, seriousness, but right now he was just...Wes. He realized that he liked Wes a little more than he’d thought.
“Dance with me, Wesley.” Braden nodded toward the dance floor as a slow song played.
Wes frowned. “There’s guys from your firehouse here. Cooper said he didn’t know you were bi until he got with Noah, and that no one at the station knows. I just assumed it was something you wanted to keep to yourself.”
Braden didn’t work that way. He was right that none of them knew, but it wasn’t because he purposefully kept it to himself; he just hasn’t been with any men in Blackcreek until Wes. “Nah. I’d have to give a shit what other people think for me to want to keep it to myself—which I don’t, if you were wondering. You’re sexy as hell and I want to dance with you. You’re much more agreeable when you’re drunk, so this might be my only chance.”
He waited for Wes to say no. Waited for life and responsibilities and whatever it was that Wes kept hidden behind his walls to reemerge. But it didn’t. Without letting go of his hand, Wes stood and led Braden to the dance floor.
***
When was the last time he danced? Wes couldn’t even remember. He and Alexander had gone out once in a while at the very beginning of their relationship, but it hadn’t been long after they’d gotten together that Chelle got sick the first time. It hadn’t been as bad then, and she’d fought hard and beat it. But he’d also flown back to Colorado on a lot of his long weekends off to see her. That had put a damper on them going out too much, and once Chelle got healthy again, it just never picked up.
Wes used to love to dance. Loved the feel of another man’s body against his, his hands on muscled back, chests touching, music playing, others packed around him doing the same thing.
It was erotic as hell, and he hadn’t even realized he missed it until Braden asked him to dance.
They found an empty spot. He wrapped his arms around Braden, who did the same to him, and just let himself feel. Feel the heat of another man, the strength and muscles and masculinity. Took in the woodsy scent and the feel of facial hair against his skin.
Braden’s hands traced paths up and down his back as they moved together. In this moment, he didn’t have any of the other shit on his mind. Chelle was still here and Jessie was happier and he didn’t wish like hell it wasn’t so hard to let people in.
“I love to dance,” he found himself saying.
“Yeah? Then I’m glad I asked. It’s not as hard to make you happy as you want to believe.”
Did he want to be hard to please? No, he didn’t. But he knew Braden was right about one thing, he didn’t always let himself take pleasure in all the things he should.