Ace's Place E-Book

Gabbi Grey

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 78

Beschreibung

Derek Murphy has come to the godforsaken small town of Merritt, British Columbia in search of a new beginning. The man is tired, jaded, and resigned to never having sex again. Until Friday night at the local sports bar changes everything.

Harold Graham, hometown boy made good, has lived in Merritt his entire life. When he meets the new guy in town, he's compelled to reach out the hand of friendship. And maybe more.

But secrets and omissions cloud what could be the beginning of something special. Can they take a chance on being vulnerable enough to fall in love?

Ace's Place is a 13k word short story about second-chances, hockey, and an adorable but nosy Bouvier.

Leseprobe

Ace's Place

Gabbi Grey

Published by Gabbi Grey, 2022.

Copyright © 2022 Gabbi Grey.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

References to real people, events, organizations, establishments, or locations are intended to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Cover art by Cate Ashwood Designs

ISBN: 978-1-7781514-1-5

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Ace's Place

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Epilogue

Interested in knowing more about Gabbi?

Derek Murphy has come to the godforsaken small town of Merritt, British Columbia in search of a new beginning. The man is tired, jaded, and resigned to never having sex again. Until Friday night at the local sports bar changes everything.

––––––––

Harold Graham, hometown boy made good, has lived in Merritt his entire life. When he meets the new guy in town, he’s compelled to reach out the hand of friendship. And maybe more.

––––––––

But secrets and omissions cloud what could be the beginning of something special. Can they take a chance on being vulnerable enough to fall in love?

––––––––

Ace’s Place is a 13k word short story about second-chances, hockey, and an adorable but nosy Bouvier.

Chapter One

Derek

From the outside, the place looked like a dive, and the inside wasn’t much better.

You’re being pretentious. And picky.

Two things I could no longer afford to be. The chain hotel I was staying at had decent room-service food, but I needed something more. Something greasy, filling, and bad for my arteries. To hasten my demise in this God-awful small town. If boredom didn’t kill me first.

Ace’s Place. The only sports bar in Merritt, British Columbia. Better known as the middle of fucking nowhere.

Okay, that might have been an exaggeration. The town had over seven thousand residents. It was on the Trans-Canada Highway, so if one was going from Vancouver to, I don’t know, Calgary, one would travel through this backwater town. Unfortunately, I wasn’t traveling to Calgary. Or Toronto or Montréal or anywhere urban and urbane. Nope, Merritt was the last stop for me. An ignominious end to what had begun as a very glorious career.

In the past.

Now I was about to hunker down for a meal at this bar. Ace’s Place wasn’t the only bar within the boundaries of Merritt, but as it was next to my hotel, it won. I could drink myself into oblivion, and only have to walk a couple hundred feet back to the semi-comfortable bed that awaited me.

Three days. I’d been here for three days and I was already numb. What would I be like after three months? Three years? Hell, three decades? A shell of my former self. Guaran-fucking-teed.

I opened the door, and the smell of beer and fried food assailed me. Reminded me of the bar back in Vancouver I used to frequent with my co-workers after we quit on Friday nights. A far cry from the gay bars I haunted on Saturday night. Those forays, I kept to myself.

A young woman in a black shirt and short black skirt approached me. I held up one finger before she could get a word in edgewise.

“Bar or table?”

A decision almost too much to deal with, but I answered. “Bar.” No need to occupy an entire table. The place was hopping with almost every booth filled.

“Game night.” She answered my unasked question as she led me to the bar.

I selected the stool at the end and slid onto it.

After she handed me a menu, she headed off.

I perused the menu. Perfect, there were hardly any healthy items on it.

A coaster was placed in front of me, and I glanced up to see who’d put it there.

My breath caught.

Dark-brown hair. Shaved at the sides, longer on top. Sexy trimmed scruff. And the deepest-brown eyes I’d ever seen. Oh, and the body? I tried to be circumspect in my examination but, man, he made my mouth water. Brawny, but not beefy. Wide shoulders with muscular arms. His black T-shirt was tight across his broad chest.

He was scrumptious enough to eat.

And by his raised eyebrow, I’d taken just a moment too long in my perusal.

Crap.

“Whatever you have on tap.”

“We have eight brews.” He named all eight.

I tried not to think that my old pub had a much larger selection.

“The pale ale would be great.”

He nodded and moved over to the tap. As he poured, I watched him instead of the beer. The movement of his arm, the furrow of concentration in his brow, the flexing of his abs when he hit the right amount of beer and foam. My cock sat up and took notice—something that hadn’t happened in a very long time.

“One pale ale.” His eyes sparkled in the light from the upper frame of the bar. “You decide on food?”

“Greasy, please.” I handed him the menu. “And spicy.”

His grin did things to my stomach. “One jalapeño burger with a side of spicy mushroom caps. That’ll fill your belly.”

Said stomach growled. How long since I’d eaten? Food? A few hours. A man like him? Way too fucking long. He was so my type. And probably as straight as they came.

I sipped my beer as I watched him work the bar. Beer was flowing, and I quickly picked up it was hockey night. Apparently the hometown junior team was playing, as every screen in the place was tuned to the game. I liked hockey as much as most Canadians, and being a hometown Vancouverite, I enjoyed Canucks games. That being said, I only attended when work gave me tickets. I had season tickets for the symphony.

Didn’t figure that’d go over well in this crowd.

“One jalapeño burger and one side of spicy mushroom caps. Anything else I can get you?”

He’d caught me unawares. You probably wouldn’t go over well in this crowd either.

“No, this is great. Smells delicious.” And it did. Better than the BLT sandwich I’d had for lunch.

He placed a rolled napkin with all the cutlery, winked, and backed away. Before I could say another word, he was halfway down the bar and leaning over so he could hear the server giving him a drink order.

A wink?

Because the food was good, or because he read something more? Was there longing in my expression? My last hookup had been over six months ago. Longest dry spell since I’d turned nineteen and could head to the gay bars down on Davie Street. I’d taken full advantage over the past ten years. Always being safe, but enjoying myself nonetheless. Nothing serious, though. No, nothing to distract from my career.

What a fucking joke that turned out to be. Not lost on me what I’d missed out on.

I bit into the burger and moaned. Juice dribbled down my chin, and I quickly swiped it up with the napkin. Holy Lord. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had anything this good. Maybe ever. After chewing thoroughly, I swallowed, took a swig of beer, then popped a mushroom cap into my mouth. Heaven. I’d died and gone to heaven.

All in Ace’s Place.

The bartender returned and pointed to the food.

“Amazing,” I enthused. “Hey, what’s your name?”

A sly grin cut across his expression. “Harold.”

“Harold?” He didn’t look like a Harold.

“Better known as... Harold.” Swiping the cloth across the bar, he offered a sheepish smile. “I wanted Harry or, I don’t know, anything other than Harold. But my great-grandfather carried the name, and he died in the war, so my mother insisted on honoring him. I think she did it to curry favor with my grandfather. Whatever. It’s just a name, though.” Another swipe against the pristinely clean mahogany. “What’s your name?”

“Derek.”

Harold nodded. “And where do you hail from, Derek? Because I know just about everyone in town, and I don’t know you. Or are you passing through our fair city?”

I wish.

“I’m from the coast. I just took a job teaching at the community college. I start Monday.”

Another nod. “Yeah, Ms. Caulder’s sudden heart attack devastated the entire town. Just six months from retirement, no less.” He pointed at me. “Guess they were lucky you could come up here so fast. Vancouver, right?”

Since I was pretty sure I didn’t have a Vancouver accent, he’d likely made an educated guess. I supposed I could’ve come from elsewhere, but what was the point of attempting subterfuge? Yes, I was starting over. No, I didn’t have anything to hide.

“Yeah, Vancouver.” Point Grey, to be exact. The most exclusive neighborhood in the city. Or that’s where my parents lived. I’d had a condo in the downtown core. One I’d just sold for an obscene amount of money. I pointed to the plate which held only remnants of one of the best meals I’d ever consumed. “Amazing.”

“We do our best. Got a great kitchen staff.” He organized the plates into a pile. “You want another drink? Maybe some desert? We’ve got a decadent cheesecake.”

I patted my flat belly. Wouldn’t stay that way if I indulged too often. “I’m good. I might hang for a bit before heading back to my hotel.”

He cocked his head in the direction whence I’d come.