Carol Lynne

Calder Finnegan entered the smoky pub and looked around. It never changes, he thought. He’d been away from the bar for almost six years. His eyes roamed the crowd of people drinking and laughing. Some of the faces had changed in the small Irish pub but the atmosphere was essentially the same. It was a long room with about fifteen tables and ten booths all lined up like little soldiers. The small stage, used for traditional Irish music looked like it was in need of some repairs. Fin wondered if his da would mind if he made a few upgrades here and there while he was here.

The only thing that was still perfect about the pub was the long mahogany bar. Oh and the delicious bartender standing behind it. Yum, who was he? Da sure didn’t employ anyone who looked that good last time he came in. Fin decided to take a seat in the back corner of the pub and get the lay of the land.

The bar was packed with twenty- and thirty-something customers. When he was growing up it seemed the bar was frequented by dock workers and other blue-collar types, most fairly old. Back then, the pub’s heaviest traffic came right after five o’clock when the workers got off. They’d stop off at Finnegan’s for a beer or two before going home to their families. Occasionally, men would bring their wives and girlfriends to the pub on a Friday or Saturday night to listen to music, but that was it. This crowd was completely different from what he was used to.

Now Finnegan’s held a broad spectrum of patrons. Everyone from college kids to guys in suits. Fin shook his head. What the hell was going on in the small lazy pub his da had chosen over him and his mom? Fin felt the anger returning at the thought of his mom. He pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on the bartender. God, he was amazing. He stood maybe six feet tall, with the dark black hair and brilliant blue eyes of the black Irish. His body was lean but not skinny, muscles corded in ropes on his arms and neck. Fin wondered what his chest looked like. Damn, now he was getting hard. This was definitely not the place for him to lust after a man. It could totally ruin his career if anyone saw him staring at Mr. Gorgeous with a stiff cock in his jeans.

To help hide his identity, Fin wore a baseball cap with his shoulder-length black curly hair tucked up inside.

He continued to watch the bartender entertain the crowd. He told jokes and laughed at the stories and people surrounding him. He seemed to be the main attraction in the pub. Fin watched him do a few tricks with the liquor bottles while filling drink orders. He was absolutely amazing.

The small band of musicians started up again but Fin’s eyes remained on the bartender. God, he could so not do what he wanted to. He would be the laughingstock of professional football if anyone found out he preferred the players to the cheerleaders. Fin looked around to make sure no one was watching and thumped his rampant cock. He had to get himself under control. He looked toward the bar and noticed a brilliant set of blue eyes looking right at him. Fin’s mouth went dry and his palms started to sweat. He quickly averted his eyes to the musicians on the stage. When he looked back the hunk behind the bar was busy doing another one of his bottle tricks.

The customers began to chant. “Mick…Mick…Mick…Mick.”

Fin looked around. Who the hell was Mick? He watched the bartender jump up on the bar and take a bow. So that’s what Mr. Gorgeous’ name was.

“Sing for us, Mick!” someone in the crowd shouted. The rest of the patrons chimed in, clapping and whistling. He gave the people a beautiful dimpled smile then turned and looked right at Fin. His eyes felt like a caress on Fin’s skin. Mick jumped off the bar and headed for the stage.

He spoke quietly to the musicians and began singing the Irish ballad, “The Banks of Lee”. Fin’s jaw dropped in awe. The man had a voice that would make any Irish tenor jealous. The notes were so perfect they touched his soul.

He caught Mick’s eyes seeking him out at several points during the ballad. Mick finished the song and did a quick bow before jumping back over the bar to resume his duties. The crowd was still cheering as Mick went back to mixing drinks.

With his cock finally under control Fin approached the bar. He leaned on the end watching Mick, waiting for his turn. Finally, Mick turned and Fin was captured.