Read George's Turn [Brac Pack 8] for Free Online Page B

SUVs. Did Tank have a party going on in there?
    George cut the engine and opened his door. He stood there for a moment wondering if he had the right address. He spotted Tank’s half-ton truck and knew he was in the right place. Taking a deep breath, he climbed the steps and rang the doorbell. He wasn’t much of a party person. Maybe he could make an excuse and get out of there.
    “Can I help you?” A small man answered the door. He looked like his boss’s mate, Keata.
    “I’m here to see Tank.” George stepped back when a large man growled and grabbed the smaller man into his arms.
    “Haven’t I told you about answering the door, dragonfly?” George noticed the guy’s eyes swirled with different colors. It was hypnotizing. The little man laughed and kissed the larger man, hugging him close. A part of George envied the love they obviously had for one another. He wanted something like that for himself.
    And to be so open with it? That was a pipe dream for George.

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    Lynn Hagen
    “He’s here to see Tank.” The little guy wrapped himself around the larger one.
    “Come on in. You must be George. I’m Storm.” Storm stuck his hand out and shook George’s. “And this little man is my mate, Kyoshi.”
    “He looks like Keata.” George stepped into the foyer, noise assailing him immediately. He heard whooping and loud rock music that threatened to burst his eardrums.
    “You know my cousin?” Kyoshi beamed.
    George’s nerves were beginning to fray with that heavy metal music. He was expecting to see kids run out of there with the loud video game noise. “Yeah, I work at the diner. He’s there a lot with Cody.” He glanced at the room with noise again. Maybe he should have popped a few aspirin before he got here.
    “You must be the new cook Frank hired.” Storm led him to a room any man would be envious of, except for the loud music. There were two suede couches to the left with a poker table behind it, and four short men sat at it playing poker with…pretzels? They were using pretzels instead of poker chips. He looked off to the right and saw a large billiard table with two large men playing a game and a full bar to the left of that. A dartboard hung on the wall close to the pool table.
    George looked over when he heard yelling. In front of the couches was a large flat-screen television, and two men were jumping around, shouting curses at each other while playing a video game. George wished he could find the mute button and turn the damn music off.
    His headache was getting worse from it.
    A small man ran up to him, his golden curls bouncing as he ran,
    “I’m Johnny. You must be George, Tank’s mate.” He hugged George.
    George stood there stunned, the little appendage hanging on to him for a brief moment before letting go. A growl ripped through the air, and George’s head snapped up to see the fiercest man that he imagined could be a person’s worst nightmare. The kind of man you George’s Turn
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    crossed the street to avoid. He had blue-black hair and stood as tall as Tank, except this guy looked like he just walked out of the bowels of hell.
    “Sorry, Johnny gets a little excited.” The man turned around and picked the little blond up. “What have we talked about, pretty baby?” Pretty baby? George’s head was spinning. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He felt out of place. It was like little guys versus big guy in this place, and George was in between. Well, not all the guy’s were short. Two of the guys sitting off in a corner looked to stand just a tad shorter than George. They were sitting at the poker table, and they also looked similar to one another. They must be related. One had piercings decorating his ears and bottom lip. The other had hair all the way to his waist in a raven-black color.
    “You made it.”
    George turned around to see Tank standing behind him, smiling.
    Tank looked amazing. George had no clue he could be turned on as much as he was by black fatigues