Chapter 2

My buddies had always said I was attracted to bright, shiny things. Was that all this was?

Noise from outside burst my bubble. Mitch O’Shea and I’d been standing too long staring at each other and not talking.

Through the blush heating up my cheeks, I cleared my throat and shifted uneasily.

“What can Behr Construction do for you, uh, Mitch?”

There was no way under God I was asking him what Icould do for him. Or to him. Or whatever. I made myself stop overthinking. Just focus.

His grin grew, embracing me. My prick rose. Dammit.

“I’d like you to take a look at this place’s structure and tell me if it’s sound enough to remodel. Or should I just raze it and start over again?” His voice had changed to one only board presidents and big money used around us peons.

I took a shuddering breath. I’d dealt with hundreds of Mitches as a contractor. Estimates and suggestions I could do.

We both turned to the dismal interior of the former steak house. I cleared my throat, then took a breath.

“Okay. Sure.” I took a step away from him and looked up at the lung-cancer ceiling. “What do you plan to do with this place?”

His grin tried to lasso me again, but I was onto him. I met his gaze with a frown. His eyes twinkled in response. Damn him.

“Well, I own a bunch of clubs in San Francisco, but I’ve always wanted to start a family restaurant, kinda like Chuck E. Cheese’s but not with the costumed characters.” He fucking winked at me. “I want to start a place with an Old West theme, where parents can get a great steak for a reasonable price and kids can play old-fashioned arcade games without their folks watching them the whole time. You know, where families can come and enjoy a night out.”

Okay, his idea wasn’t as flashy as he looked. I would have thought he’d want more Vegas—bright lights and pink cocktails—while he was thinking more Main Street, America. Thompson’s would be a great place for his vision if the Silver Star gourmet restaurant wasn’t nearby, feeding the rich and famous.

“Uh, yeah. You did see the place across the street, right?” I thumbed toward the Star.

He laughed, a hearty bellow of delight.

“Oh, Chef Adam de Leon won’t be challenged by my little family place. This is a big block. Our clientele won’t overlap at all.”

I was skeptical. We’d done some work for Adam, but I didn’t really know the guy very well. From what I’d gathered, the celebrity chef didn’t like to be messed with. Ever. Would he want chattering kids and cranky parents cluttering up the street in front of his place?

I shrugged. “Okay. Whatever. If you give me fifteen to thirty, I’ll have a rundown of what needs to be done and write out a preliminary cost estimate so you can make up your mind.”

He nodded as I bent my head to get an appraisal sheet and pencil from my shirt pocket.

“Oh, Ben,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

I glanced at him.

“Mind if we talk about this over lunch?”

“Sure, no problem.” My dick was on board even if the rest of me was wary.

“How about I meet you outside? Maybe we could drive somewhere? I bet you’ll want to try out my car.”

I shrugged again. What’d he have? A Maserati or something? Since I’d come in through the back, I hadn’t seen him drive up.

But I was more concerned about my reaction to him than his ride. Was it possible to turn gay? Is that what had happened to my brothers and it was just now catching up with me?

Damn. I didn’t know how I felt if that was the case. Maybe being gay was a family thing?

I waved to him. Then, as I got one last eyeful, I shouted a piece of advice.

“I’d lose the jacket, vest, and tie if I were you. We’re pretty laid-back around here.”

If nothing else, he wouldn’t stick out quite as much as he would in the suit. He’d certainly attract the single gay men the way he was dressed. I didn’t need…competition?

Shit, what was I thinking?

* * * *

I made my inspection, which went quickly since I was already pretty familiar with the structure. Nothing had changed since the last potential buyer had asked for a written inspection and estimate. The place didn’t seem to have attracted any new rodents or vermin, but then it had always had its fair share.

Walking out of the gloom of the former steak house into the sunshine, I was blinded momentarily, so I couldn’t see Mitch or his fabulous ride right away. When I did, holy cow.