Over and Back Read online

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Chapter One—Three Months Until Takeoff

  Chapter Two—Six Weeks before Vacation

  Chapter Three—Let the Fun Begin

  Chapter Four—A Different Roman Holiday

  Chapter Five—Trouble in the Eternal City

  Chapter Six—The Best Butt in Marble

  Chapter Seven—Trouble with Heights

  Chapter Eight—An Old Seductress

  Chapter Nine—Danger Comes Courting

  Chapter Ten—Turning the Tables

  Epilogue—Home Will Never Be the Same

  More from Andrew Grey

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  Copyright

  Over and Back

  By Andrew Grey

  Sequel to Round and Round

  Bronco’s Boys: Book Five

  Opposites attract on an overseas holiday, but trouble has hitched a ride.

  While Bronco’s nightclub is closed for renovations, the owners invite the staff on a trip to Italy. Bartender Hank needs a roommate, and he’s had his eye on waiter Grant for a while, even if he’s had to keep his distance. But sharing such close proximity means sparks are sure to fly….

  Grant has a problem saying no, and it’s led him into some less-than-healthy relationships. While he’s determined not to repeat his mistakes, it’s clear Hank is different.

  They’re both willing to take it slow and explore the feelings building between them, but even in a foreign country, their pasts are catching up, and that could hurt more than just their budding romance.

  To Dominic—this story was all his idea.

  Chapter One—Three Months Until Takeoff

  GRANT BANNERMAN grabbed an empty tray, hurried over to the tall table, and placed the empty glasses on it while the guys were away. This was the only table in the place that no one was going to take. It was permanently reserved—especially on a Friday night—no matter how busy Bronco’s was. Once the empties were cleared, he wiped the tabletop and was about to leave when the usual occupants returned.

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Zach said as he hopped up onto his stool. “Thanks so much for clearing the table, Grant. You didn’t need to do that. I could have taken care of it.” He flashed a smile.

  “It’s no problem,” Grant said over the thump of the bass that vibrated the floor under his feet. Then he hurried to the next table. “What would you like to drink?” he asked the three men who had claimed the table as he cleared the glasses, used napkins, and something he wished he’d had rubber gloves on before touching. Thankfully it turned out to be part of a balloon and not a… well, he had encountered those on occasion too.

  “How about you?” one of the men asked, leaning too close to Grant. The scent of alcohol on his breath told him this guy had already been drinking a while. “I think you’d look wonderful under me, screaming my name as you come.” He slid his hands down Grant’s back, cupped his butt, and squeezed a little too hard.

  Grant started forward and nearly lost control of the tray, but managed to catch it at the last minute. “Sorry, I’m not on the bar menu this evening.” Keep it light, and a little flippant, but tell the guy no, he told himself. That’s what he needed to do, no matter how tempted he was to be mean or say what he wanted—that he didn’t go anywhere with drunk idiots with obnoxious pickup lines.

  “Aww, come on, sweetheart. We’ll have one hell of a time.”

  “Knock it off,” one of his companions said, swatting away Mr. Handsy’s arm. “That’s enough. You need to behave.” The man shook his head as the third guy at the table put his arm around him. Dang, why were the good guys always taken, and why did the jerks always end up at one of his tables? “Bring him a beer and a cup of coffee,” he said to Grant. “He and I will both have a Grey Goose martini and a glass of water.” He flashed a warm smile.

  Grant thanked him and hurried away with the tray, weaving around the edge of the throng of dancers to the bar, where he placed his order and took care of the dirty barware.

  “Are you okay?” Zach asked from next to him. “I saw what that guy did, so I mentioned it to Bull when he stopped by the table.” Zach got this dreamy expression for a second as he looked over at the intense bald man standing near the bar. Bull owned the club with his business partner, and the guy was scary as hell most of the time. At least he appeared that way. Grant knew him mostly as a good boss who watched out for his people. He’d even seen him smile at least three times, though each time it had been when he was talking to Zach. The two of them had been together five or six years, but to Grant, they still looked like newlyweds sometimes.

  “I’m fine. He got touchy, and the guys with him took care of it, but thanks.” Then Grant checked with Hank, the bartender who served the runners. Hank was a big guy, and sometimes, when Hank wasn’t paying attention, Grant liked to watch him and the way he filled out his tight black shirt. It was enough to make Grant forget where he was, even as guys jostled around him. Not that he held any hope that there could be anything between them… for so many reasons. Hank was mixing drinks for one of the other waiters, so Grant figured he had a few minutes. He turned back to Zach. “It happens sometimes, you know that. But tell Bull he might want to keep an eye on the guy, just in case.”

  “I’ll let him know.” Zach took the tray Hank passed to him and paused before leaving. “When you get your break, stop over at the table if you like.”

  Grant nodded, taking his own drinks from Hank and putting them on his tray, then nearly spilling one as his attention wandered to the sex-on-a-stick bartender for just a second. He shook his head slightly and pulled it together. Once away from the hint of intricate ink that just peeked out from the sleeve of Hank’s shirt, Grant steadied himself and headed back across the floor. He placed the drinks on the table in front of each guy, including the extra waters and coffee, as well as a cup of nuts from the bar because the one guy had been nice.

  “That’s thirty dollars,” Grant said when he was set.

  The guy who’d been nice to him handed him two twenties. “Keep the rest,” he said gently, then scowled at his friend, who’d already half downed the beer and grabbed a huge handful of the nuts. “Sorry about Jack. His partner of ten years decided that yesterday was the day to ask for a divorce because he’s in love with a college student.” Mr. Nice Guy lowered his voice. “The guy is a real jerk. Anyway, we’re going to take him home soon, but if you could bring him another cup of coffee, that would be great.”

  Grant took the money, thanked him, and added the coffee to his sheet before making the rounds to his other tables, settling some tabs and taking more orders. He made that circle three more times, putting in orders at the bar before passing through with the last tray of drinks, then headed over to the regulars’ table, where Zach motioned to him.

  “We still haven’t figured out what we’re going to do,” Kevin said as Grant approached.

  “And it looks like we aren’t going to do it tonight. All we do is talk and talk, but nothing comes to mind,” Zach said from next to him. Kevin, Jeremy, Tristan, and Zach were like the four slightly aging twink musketeers. And Friday nights were when all four friends came to Bronco’s. It was their night out together, and Grant was honored to have been asked to join them. It seemed like finally getting to sit with the popular kids in high school.

  “You’re right,” Tristan groaned. “Besides, Zach, this isn’t really your problem.” He paused.

  “I got you a Diet Coke—that’s what Hank said you drank,” Zach said, passing a glass to Grant. He thanked Zach and turned his attenti
on to Tristan, who barely stopped talking.

  Tristan took a breath, winding down from whatever had him spun up. “Everything is booked—we have all the reservations and the rooms. If dipwad Danny decides that he doesn’t want to come, he’ll still have to pay his share. It’s not like Hank can get his money back anyway. Not this close to the departure date.” He leaned over the table. “If you ask me, Hank is so much better off without him. I mean, the guy was such a loser. He never wanted to go anywhere and he couldn’t stand that Hank worked here, because there were other guys who watched him. The big jealous prick.” Tristan straightened back up, shaking his head.

  “Can I ask what’s going on?” Grant felt a little left out. Not that it was any of his business, but they had asked him over and were talking about stuff he didn’t understand.

  “Sorry, Grant. First of all, you know the club is closing, right?” Zach said.

  Grant’s heart beat a little faster. “Yeah. Bull and Harry said it was only for a month, though, to make some renovations.” God, he hoped the plans hadn’t changed. But Bull and his business partner, Harry, were stand-up people, and Grant forced himself to relax. “He and Harry told some of the staff, me included, that they were going to pay us for the month anyway so we’d be sure to come back.” That was the kind of people they were. And it meant a great deal to Grant, even though he didn’t have many expenses since he still lived at home. His mom and dad had built an apartment in their basement for his sister, Jeanne, and her husband, Pete, when they’d gotten married. After they moved out, Grant moved down there. Still, not having to worry about being out a paycheck for a month was one less concern.

  “Yeah. The first two weeks are demo and prep. Bull and Harry have a fabulous architect, and he’s going to oversee all that, so the four of us got the idea to go on vacation. Bull never takes time away from this place, and neither do Harry and Lowell.” It took Grant a second to remember Spook’s—the club’s head of security—actual name. No one called him Lowell. “So we booked a two-week vacation in Italy. We’re all going.”

  “I heard Bull say something about it once. It sounds like a lot of fun.” Then Grant checked his phone and drank a little more of his soda. He still had ten minutes before he was scheduled to go back.

  “Hank and Danny the Dipstick were supposed to go with us. But things went south with them, and now Hank is looking for a roommate. Apparently Hank had booked the trip as a surprise for Danny, only now that things between them are over, Hank is kind of stuck.” Zach huffed slightly and rolled his eyes. Then an idea seemed to pop into his head and he blurted, “You could go!”

  Grant shook his head. “Hank hates me most of the time.” Maybe not hated him, but they certainly weren’t friends, and Grant had no idea why. Hank was professional about work stuff, but he always seemed standoffish and never spoke to Grant if he didn’t have to. And that sucked, especially since Hank seemed to pull his attention a lot more than professionalism allowed.

  Still, Grant had to admit, a trip would be really nice. He’d always wanted to go to Italy.

  “You’d just be roommates, sharing a hotel room.” Some of Zach’s enthusiasm had definitely dulled. “And I don’t think Hank hates you. He’s a little messed up right now. Danny did a real number on the guy.” He made a sad-puppy face that Grant was pretty sure got Zach anything he wanted from Bull. Barely pausing to take a breath, he continued. “The tours are already paid for, as are most of the hotels. We got better rates in advance if we paid up front. Hank is looking for someone to share the expenses. And, of course, you’d have to pay for your airline tickets in and out of Europe. It’s a good deal.”

  Grant finished his drink and kept himself from rolling his eyes. This sounded like a lot of fun, and at the same time, a recipe for disaster. Sure, it would be a great trip to take, but he wasn’t sure about spending a couple of weeks sharing a room with Hank. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. Under different circumstances, he would jump at the chance to spend time with the guy who got his heart racing, but he was pretty sure Hank wasn’t going to go for the idea. They barely talked to each other, even at work. “I’d love to go. A trip would be fun and all. But I don’t know….”

  Zach shrugged. “At least think about it. Maybe talk to Hank.”

  This time Grant couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes. There was no way he was going to talk to Hank. It was none of his business. Going on a trip to Europe, rooming with the guy, would be a fiasco. Sure, people went on trips like that and ended up sharing hotel rooms with strangers on occasion. Well, maybe that happened. He really didn’t know what went on, on some of those bargain tours he’d thought about taking just to get away from home sometime.

  “Or I can talk to Hank for you if you’re interested,” Zach added.

  “Let me think about it,” Grant said. It was the best answer he could give right now, even facing Zach’s puppylike expression. Damn, that thing was powerful. Grant could only hope Zach usually used it for good. He slipped off the stool and returned to the bar via his tables, taking drink orders and clearing empty glasses as he went.

  Grant knew he was good at his job. He made better tips than any of the other servers, and he never wasted a trip. If he was going to the bar, he brought drink orders and empties with him if he possibly could, and he left the bar with filled orders, making that same trip countless times a night. He always had his server’s apron pockets filled with napkins and other things he needed, like the occasional bottle opener for when things got really busy. Basically, he was ready for anything.

  “That was my order,” Billy snapped as Grant took a drink from the rail where Hank had set it. Billy reached to snag it off his tray and ended up spilling it all over the bar, while the glass shattered on the floor. That was normal, at least lately, when he dealt with Grant. Billy always thought every drink was for him and never wanted to wait his turn.

  “I’ll get you another in a minute,” Hank said to Billy as Grant grabbed one of the cloths to wipe up the spilled gin and tonic, while Hank swept up the glass. Hank didn’t thank him for the help, but put the broom away, mixed a replacement drink, and set it on Grant’s tray. “Is that your order?” Hank asked as Grant was pulling the tray away. He nodded and went back to drink delivery.

  “What happened?” Zach asked when he passed by the table ten minutes later.

  Grant sighed. There was no use stirring up trouble, and telling Zach how he felt about Billy and Hank at the moment was only going to poke a hornet’s nest. He was well aware that Zach would talk to Bull, and then Bull would feel he needed to take action, simply because Bull was that kind of guy. And really, it was nothing—just a little personal jealousy. Billy seemed to get along with everyone else well enough. “Nothing to worry about.” Grant smiled. “Do you need anything? I’m heading that way.”

  “Four coffees. And can you put in a few orders of tots and an order of hummus for us?” Zach slipped a five into Grant’s apron. “We appreciate it.” Zach had a tab at the club… sort of. Bull took care of their drinks, and Grant supposed that, in return, the four of them kept their ears and eyes out for trouble.

  Grant hurried away, put in the food order, as well as the drinks he needed at the bar, and took care of the dirty glassware while he waited for his order.

  “Did you complain to Zach about me?” Billy growled from behind him.

  Grant groaned, shook his head, and said nothing. When his drinks were ready, he loaded his tray and turned away to skirt the dance floor. Something appeared in front of him, his foot caught on it, and suddenly he was off-balance and about to go down. Grant took a step forward and knelt, catching himself and the tray before it went everywhere and gave the people around him a bath.

  “You okay?” Spook said, appearing next to him almost out of nowhere, taking the tray with ease as Grant got his balance again.

  “Yes. Thanks,” Grant said with a harried smile. Spook backed away, and Grant continued on his to the tables.

  The night went on, with B
illy making a minor pain of himself more than once, though Grant did his best to ignore it and go about his work. He had a job to do, and it paid his meager bills and allowed him to mostly support himself. And he knew that part of the job was to flirt with the guys in the club. It got him better tips if he flashed a bright smile and maybe dropped a wink or two here and there. Unlike a few of the other servers, including Billy, he never went as far as to get touchy-feely, and he expected to be treated similarly.

  Well after midnight, he glanced over at the guys’ table and found it empty. They didn’t stay very late, at least by club standards. Their Friday nights were set aside for friendship, not getting drunk—something Grant envied. He wished he had close friends like those four, people he could confide in and trust with his secrets and fears.

  “Hey, waiter,” a gruff voice called over the thump of the music, and Grant cringed inwardly, trying to keep his wariness from showing on his face. He was familiar with guys who spoke in that self-confident, entitled tone. In fact, he was intimately acquainted with it, thanks to his ex-boyfriend, and had grown to hate it.

  “May I help you?” Grant asked as he turned. It wasn’t his table, but he’d long ago learned to help the customers if they asked.

  “I want a Tanqueray and tonic, a double.” He had intense eyes and a handsome face with an immaculately sculpted beard, and a haircut that likely cost more than Grant’s best night of tips. The guy’s shirt shimmered and was probably silk. “I’d also like some of those bar snacks they’re serving. While you’re at it, bring yourself a drink and take a seat.” He pushed out the other chair at the table with his foot.

  Something about the way he made his demands clicked inside Grant’s head, and he hurried away. He knew he should just bring the guy his drink and a bowl of snacks and leave it there. But training—of a sort—was difficult to overcome. He placed his order at the bar and turned back to the guy, watching him as he surveyed the room, paying no attention to Grant. The guy was so confident that he’d be back, he’d even pulled the empty stool right up close next to him.