was the scar running from the corner of his left eye and bisecting his cheek. The guy also wore motorcycle leathers.
“He’s taken,” scarface growled as he walked past, glaring at him.
His brows shooting up, Rueben lifted a hand in placation. “Hey, sorry, man. I didn’t mean to poach. Your boyfriend’s cute.” He grinned and shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for tryin’, huh?”
“He ain’t my man, but don’t think Yuma’s boyfriend wouldn’t happily lay you out just because you’re on crutches,” the guy replied.
The slender guy, Yuma, finally seemed to recover from his shock of getting hit on. He grabbed the big man’s arm. “Easy, Sam. He didn’t mean any harm,” Yuma murmured before giving Rueben a tentative smile. “My friend’s just being protective.”
Rueben nodded. “It’s always good to have someone to watch your back.” The pair turned and headed across the lobby. “Hey, wait, uh, Sam?” Rueben called after him, deciding it’d probably be better for his health to talk to the big guy. Had he not been injured, he probably could have held his own in a fight, but as it was…
Sam paused and turned back to him, lifting a brow in silent question.
“Those are your bikes out there, right?” Rueben asked, referring to the dozen motorcycles he’d seen filling several parking spaces. One of these days, he thought he might get one of his own.
“Yeah,” Sam responded, sounding wary.
Ignoring the warning in the guy’s tone, Rueben asked, “Have you driven around town yet? I’m looking for the local police station.” Now that his dick wasn’t doing the thinking, he returned his focus to his original reason for being in town—looking for his brother, Ricky.
His brother was a detective and had headed this way on a hunch, following a suspicious woman. When Ricky hadn’t checked in with his chief in three days, Rueben had been contacted, letting him know his brother was missing. The local police had reported that Ricky had been seen in the area late last week, but had no leads as to where he’d gone.
Rueben wasn’t going to accept that answer. They might not always get along, but Ricky was the only family he had left. He’d find his brother, even if it ended up the man was holed up in a hotel with a woman somewhere.
“Yeah,” Sam replied, pulling Rueben out of his thoughts. “It’s two streets over. I don’t remember the name. Head left out of the parking lot, turn right at the light, then right on the second street. It’ll be on your left.”
“Thanks.” Rueben heard the man grunt as he turned back around and disappeared down the hall. Friendly.
Shaking his head, he made his way to the front desk. No one was there so he rang the bell. A moment later, a plump woman, maybe in her late forties, hustled out of the back. She smiled at him.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted.
“Hi, I’d like a room.” As if there’d be any other reason for me to be here.
“Of course. How many nights?” she asked. Then her gaze swept over the crutches under his armpits. “Would you like a handicapped room?”
Rueben knew she was just trying to be polite and make him more comfortable, but that still rankled. A broken foot didn’t make him handicapped. “No, that’s not necessary,” he replied, somehow managing to force a smile. “And I’m not sure how many nights. Can I leave it open-ended for now?”
The woman beamed. “Of course.” She took his card and typed information into her computer, while launching into a spiel about the motel’s amenities. They had an outdoor pool and hot tub, which Rueben couldn’t use. When she mentioned a gym, his interest peaked. It probably wouldn’t be much, but most hotel gyms at least had a weight bench. He’d love to give his arms and chest muscles a good burn.
He took his key card from the woman, then followed her directions to his room. At least she’d put him on the first floor. That was a blessing.
Once in his room, Rueben eased
“He’s taken,” scarface growled as he walked past, glaring at him.
His brows shooting up, Rueben lifted a hand in placation. “Hey, sorry, man. I didn’t mean to poach. Your boyfriend’s cute.” He grinned and shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for tryin’, huh?”
“He ain’t my man, but don’t think Yuma’s boyfriend wouldn’t happily lay you out just because you’re on crutches,” the guy replied.
The slender guy, Yuma, finally seemed to recover from his shock of getting hit on. He grabbed the big man’s arm. “Easy, Sam. He didn’t mean any harm,” Yuma murmured before giving Rueben a tentative smile. “My friend’s just being protective.”
Rueben nodded. “It’s always good to have someone to watch your back.” The pair turned and headed across the lobby. “Hey, wait, uh, Sam?” Rueben called after him, deciding it’d probably be better for his health to talk to the big guy. Had he not been injured, he probably could have held his own in a fight, but as it was…
Sam paused and turned back to him, lifting a brow in silent question.
“Those are your bikes out there, right?” Rueben asked, referring to the dozen motorcycles he’d seen filling several parking spaces. One of these days, he thought he might get one of his own.
“Yeah,” Sam responded, sounding wary.
Ignoring the warning in the guy’s tone, Rueben asked, “Have you driven around town yet? I’m looking for the local police station.” Now that his dick wasn’t doing the thinking, he returned his focus to his original reason for being in town—looking for his brother, Ricky.
His brother was a detective and had headed this way on a hunch, following a suspicious woman. When Ricky hadn’t checked in with his chief in three days, Rueben had been contacted, letting him know his brother was missing. The local police had reported that Ricky had been seen in the area late last week, but had no leads as to where he’d gone.
Rueben wasn’t going to accept that answer. They might not always get along, but Ricky was the only family he had left. He’d find his brother, even if it ended up the man was holed up in a hotel with a woman somewhere.
“Yeah,” Sam replied, pulling Rueben out of his thoughts. “It’s two streets over. I don’t remember the name. Head left out of the parking lot, turn right at the light, then right on the second street. It’ll be on your left.”
“Thanks.” Rueben heard the man grunt as he turned back around and disappeared down the hall. Friendly.
Shaking his head, he made his way to the front desk. No one was there so he rang the bell. A moment later, a plump woman, maybe in her late forties, hustled out of the back. She smiled at him.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted.
“Hi, I’d like a room.” As if there’d be any other reason for me to be here.
“Of course. How many nights?” she asked. Then her gaze swept over the crutches under his armpits. “Would you like a handicapped room?”
Rueben knew she was just trying to be polite and make him more comfortable, but that still rankled. A broken foot didn’t make him handicapped. “No, that’s not necessary,” he replied, somehow managing to force a smile. “And I’m not sure how many nights. Can I leave it open-ended for now?”
The woman beamed. “Of course.” She took his card and typed information into her computer, while launching into a spiel about the motel’s amenities. They had an outdoor pool and hot tub, which Rueben couldn’t use. When she mentioned a gym, his interest peaked. It probably wouldn’t be much, but most hotel gyms at least had a weight bench. He’d love to give his arms and chest muscles a good burn.
He took his key card from the woman, then followed her directions to his room. At least she’d put him on the first floor. That was a blessing.
Once in his room, Rueben eased
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