traditional Japanese cultural symbol inked onto a visible body part means he’s either a devout student of martial arts, or a douche.
“Hi,” he says, and takes the stool next to mine at the bar.
Killian’s in the restroom. Behind the bar, Harley looks at the new arrival with an expression like he’s just taken his life into his own hands by occupying Killian’s seat.
When Harley looks over at me, brows raised, I shrug. If this guy wants to get his face rearranged, so be it.
Harley pours Man Bun a shot of tequila and sets it in front of him.
Surprised, Man Bun says, “Oh. No thanks, bro. I’ll take a strawberry daiquiri.”
“Of course you will,” deadpans Harley. “Do you need a tampon for that mangina of yours, too?”
Man Bun is insulted, puffing up his chest. “Excuse me?”
Harley looks him up and down then snorts. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch, sweetheart. You’ll be dead within five minutes. Enjoy yourself while you can. And try going out with some dignity.” He looks at Man Bun’s hair and grimaces. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough.”
He walks off to serve another customer. Man Bun looks after him in astonishment, then at me.
I smile. “Colorful, isn’t he?”
Disgruntled, he says, “Uh, yeah. I guess you could call it that.”
I sip my wine and wait for him to introduce himself. When he does, I nearly spit the wine out of my mouth.
“I’m Tripp. With two Ps.”
I swallow with difficulty, then reclaim my smile from where it fell onto the floor in shock. “Hi, Tripp with two Ps. I’m Juliet.”
His brows shoot up. “Really? Juliet? Like from Shakespeare?”
Oh, the irony of having my name met with surprise by a guy named after what happens when you’re too clumsy to walk a straight line without stumbling.
“Yes, like from Shakespeare.”
“Huh.” He grins. “I guess you need a Romeo, then.”
Or a Taser.
I see Killian approaching from behind Tripp, his long legs eating up the distance between the men’s room and the bar with alarming speed, and think for a frantic moment that I should probably warn Tripp off before he gets hurt.
Until he leans closer to me and says, “I’m up for the job, if you’re looking.” He waggles his eyebrows up and down.
Your fate is sealed, Man Bun.
But Killian surprises me by maintaining his cool. He walks up beside me, kisses the top of my head, and turns to Man Bun with a friendly smile. “Hullo, mate. I see you’ve met my woman. Knockout, isn’t she?”
He looks Killian up and down, swallowing. A shade of color fades from his face. “Uh…”
“Nice ink,” says Killian, looking at Man Bun’s sword tattoo. “Shinogi-Zukuri was originally produced after the Heian period. I prefer Kissaki-Moroha-Zukuri myself. Unlike Shinogi-Zukuri, the blade is double-edged. I like to have both edges of my swords sharp. Much more cutting power that way.”
He grins at Man Bun’s deer-in-the-headlights look. “Are you into firearms, too, by any chance? I’d love to show you my collection.”
Grinning, Harley sets down a strawberry daiquiri in front of Man Bun. He drops a paper umbrella into it and dodders away, cackling.
Man Bun stands, grabs his daiquiri, and smiles stiffly at us. “Nice meeting you.”
Watching him run away, Killian chuckles. “I guess I’m paying for his drink.”
I say, “What’s it like, going through life the way you do?”
“Which way is that?”
“King of the jungle. Lord of the manor. Master of all you survey.”
Killian slides onto the stool Man Bun just deserted and smiles at me. “Gratifying. Convenient.” His smile falters. His voice drops. “Lonely.”
It kills me when he’s vulnerable. I glance down at my glass of wine.
Switching back to a normal tone, he says, “What’s it like being so attractive random strangers try to pick you up in bars?”
I snort, looking over at a trio of women sitting at a nearby table, gawking our way. “You should know, stud.”
He follows my gaze. “Maybe we should give them something to take back to their husbands.”
“What do you mean?”
Instead of answering, he shows me.
He leans over, takes my face in his hands, looks deeply into my eyes, then kisses me.
It’s a passionate kiss, but it’s also searingly tender. My head tilted back, I sink into him, fisting my hands into the front of his shirt and breathing his scent into my nose.
When he breaks the kiss, it’s to whisper another line from Romeo and Juliet into my ear.
“‘But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’”