He grinned as he nodded at the bartender, who knew him well enough to pass him a pint of Guinness, then automatically drew another from the tap when Mick came in and sat next to Jamie.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Mick.”

“Is this an emergency meeting or are we here to shoot the shit?”

Jamie shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ve talked to Allie, who I know damn well has talked to Summer Grace, so you tell me.”

Mick tossed a tip on the bar as the bartender slid his pint of ale to him. “I’m not hearing any complaints, and anything else she’s keeping to herself. I figure Summer is safe enough with you, you wicked bastard.”

“Hey, don’t go questioning my heritage,” Jamie warned, letting a little of the Scottish come through in his voice.

Mick gulped at his beer. “Your mother could have been seduced by a wayward mailman,” he countered. “Wait—do they have mailmen in Scotland?”

“Postmen. Same thing. But Mum would have gone for the milkman first. I hear he was a smart, dapper dude.”

“Hearing you say ‘dude’ with that accent is fucking with my brain.”

Jamie slapped him on the back. “Ha! Then my work here is done.”

“You’re awful damn cheerful.”

“And you, as usual, are not.”

“Fuck off, Jamie,” Mick said cheerfully.

Jamie clutched his chest. “You’re breaking my heart.”

Mick smacked at Jamie’s arm. “Whatever. Tell me what we’re doing here, lover boy.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Damn right I am,” Mick muttered into his pint.

Jamie took a long swallow. “All right, all right. So, it’s been a little over a week since I dragged Summer Grace out of the cemetery—”

“Caveman style,” Mick interrupted.

“Yeah. So?”

Mick raised his glass. “So, nothing. Just marveling at your luck. Not everyone gets a second chance at fucking up so royally.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“I live to serve. How’s it been going?”

“Good. Really good.”

“Why do I have a feeling that’s the understatement of the year?”

Jamie shrugged. “Maybe because it is.”

“We’re about to get all mushy and shit, aren’t we?” Mick huffed.

“’Fraid so, buddy.”

“Okay. Let’s have it.”

Jamie sipped his beer, set his glass down on the old wood bar and stared into the brown liquid. “I don’t know, Mick. Things are pretty damn amazing between us. I feel like it shouldn’t be this good. This easy. I didn’t expect it to be.”

“Why not? Because you think you don’t deserve it?”

“No, of course not.”

“Bullshit.”

He shot a look at his friend. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Forgive me for saying so—or hell, don’t forgive me—but in my opinion you don’t believe you deserve it. Happiness. Her. Maybe especially with her. I know some of the demons you’ve been fighting to even be with her, Jamie. Don’t forget how well I know you, or for how long. I was there, man. And I know exactly why you’ve kept your distance from Summer all these years. Frankly, I think it was a mistake. I think you could have been more of a comfort to her.”

“Well fuck me, Mick, don’t spare my feelings.”

“I don’t intend to. But did you come here to hear the truth or to have me blow smoke up your ass? Because if it’s the latter, you’ve come to the wrong guy. Which I think you know.”

Jamie blew out a breath. “Yeah, I do. I just hate that you’re right about this. About me having wasted all these years staying away from her. I feel guilty as hell.”

Mick shook his head. “That, my friend, is wasted time, which I know all too well. The thing to do is whatever you can today. You have to stop running from the past one of these days, bud. You have to live in the moment.”

“Wow.”

Mick raised one dark brow from over his pint glass. “What?”

“Words of wisdom from Mick Reid, ladies and gentlemen.”

“There has to be a first time for everything.”

“Seriously, Mick, you’re right. I know you are. And I’ve been trying. But it seems like the past keeps cropping up for both of us.”

“Sure, everyone’s got their baggage. But what’s happening with you two right now?”

“Things are great. The sex is fucking off the hook—and it feels weird as hell saying that to you about Summer Grace.”

“Nah. Don’t even sweat it. What else?”

Jamie had to sip his Guinness to cool off. “She’s taken to kink like someone who’s been thinking about it her whole life—like she was born to it.”

“I kinda think she was.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Maybe hell yes! Allie has said the same about her—that she dove in headfirst and never looked back. That the stuff she asked for in her first scene made Allie nervous. Not that Maîtresse Renee agreed to give her everything in that first session, but apparently the girl has no fear.”

“She has her limits, but nothing really scares her.”

“Summer’s never been afraid of much—that’s her nature. It doesn’t surprise me that kink doesn’t intimidate her. Good thing, too, given how you play.”

Jamie was quiet for a minute or two, thinking. It was true that his Summer Grace was brave, in so many ways. And when had he started to think of her as his? He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she was his, as he’d told her the other night. And just as true was the fact that not seeing her the last few nights because she’d had to work late stocking the store was driving him crazy. It had only been three nights without her and he felt like his skin was too tight for his body. Like he couldn’t hold still. Which was why he’d asked Mick to meet him tonight. He had to see her. And he really wanted to play her at the club.

“Hey, are you and Allie going to The Bastille tomorrow night?”

“Maybe. I haven’t talked to her about it yet. There’s the usual Friday night demo, isn’t there? What is it this week?”

“The schedule said Master Lucan is doing his talk on mentoring newcomers early in the evening, but that’s not why I’m asking. Will it be weird to see me play Summer Grace there?”

Mick shrugged. “Allie saw Renee play her. We’ve both seen you play plenty of other women.”

“This will be different.”

“I’d assume so. Will it make you uncomfortable to have us there? Because if so, we’ll hang out at home. I have a full toy bag and a few heavy-duty eyebolts set into the ceiling—that’s never a problem.” Mick flashed a wicked grin.

“Yeah, maybe. I might need to work my way up to getting used to you and Allie seeing us together. Hell, we haven’t even been out to dinner with anyone else.”

“It’s only been a few weeks, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah. But it’s Summer Grace, not some girl I just met. Maybe it’s been two weeks that we’ve been seeing each other, but it’s also been most of our lives. I know her. We’re just learning about each other as adults, but we have so much history. All that stuff you learn when you’re first dating a woman—about her family, what she likes to eat, her taste in music—that stuff I already know. We don’t have to waste any time on the background details. You know what I mean?”

Mick grinned again. “It was like that with me and Allie. Kinda fast-tracked things because we’d known each other forever.”

“Yeah. Sort of. I don’t know how fast we’re moving.”

“Don’t kid yourself, buddy.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I can see it, dense as I am, then the whole fucking world can see it.”

“See what?”

“That you’re in love with her.”

Jamie bit his lip, took a sip of his ale, then another before setting his glass down very carefully. Keeping his eyes on the drops of moisture clinging to the glass, he said quietly, while his chest sort of exploded with an aching warmth, “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Mick let out a snort. “It’s more than a guess. And I’m not above shoving your face in it, considering the shit you gave me over Allie. Wake up, Jamie. Do something about it. Don’t fuck it up.”

“I’m trying really Goddamn hard not to.”