Free Brooklyn Sinners 3 -A Sinner Born by Avril Ashton

mine.”
“Why?”
Kane shrugged. “It just calls to me, I guess.” He felt stupid saying that. “I don’t know, man, I just like it. Okay?”
Faro held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. No need to get pissy, I was simply asking a question.”
Kane grunted at that. There was nothing simple where Faro was concerned.
“I have to go.” Faro spoke to him, but was staring down at his watch. “Business to do in Manhattan.”
“Okay.”
“Just for the record, you’re saying nothing can happen between us—even though you really want it to—because of who I am, right?”
“That’s not quite how I’d put it, but the gist is the same, yes.”
Faro nodded slowly. “All right.” He smoothed his hands down his chest.
Kane stared. “Are you ever not wearing a suit?”
“Sure, when I’m naked.” Faro grinned.
Kane cocked his head to the side and Faro’s grin widened, eyes gleaming when he said, “Ooh picturing me naked, are you?”
Wha— Kane snorted. “Get over yourself.”
“And what, get under you?” He winked and opened the car door while Kane sputtered. “Later, Marshal.”
Faro disappeared as if he’d never been there and it took Kane another five minutes before he could gather himself and steady his breathing enough to drive away.
* * * * *
    The next day he went into work to get some paperwork done, then drove all the way back from Jersey to Connecticut later that evening to get ready for his date with Vince.
    More than once during the course of the day Kane thought about canceling. Vince was right there with him at work. Though they were both too busy to talk, they were in the same building. He could’ve canceled, but Kane found he wanted this. He wanted to go out with Vince and get Faro and the day before out of his head. He wanted to be able to say he tried the dating thing, but it wasn’t for him. He wasn’t ready to move on.
    He wasn’t wishing for the evening to be a disaster, he just wanted to get it over with and put it behind him.
An hour before Vince was supposed to show, Kane stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips and stared at the clothes in his closet. Jeans and darkcolored t-shirts. Bailey had bitched about his wardrobe but was never fully able to convert him into anything more formal than the one suit he owned for important stuff.
He was more comfortable in jeans and that was what counted.
He chose dark jeans and a dark t-shirt then selected a black sport coat to liven it up, as Bailey was so fond of saying. They were only going to dinner and drinks anyway. Not to the freaking Met.
His doorbell rang as he stepped into the jeans and Kane cursed. What the hell? Why was Vince damn near half an hour early? He ran downstairs with his upper half bare, water from his still-wet hair dripping down his back, and yanked open the door with a curse.
“What the hell—” He blinked at the delivery man standing there. “Who are you?”
The guy looked from the piece of paper he held to Kane. “Kane Ashby?”
“Yes.” Kane frowned at him. “What is it?”
“We have a delivery for you, sir.” The guy waved behind him to the other two young men idling near a delivery truck.
“What kind of delivery?” Kane crossed his arms. He sure as hell hadn’t ordered anything. “Who sent it?”
“I don’t know that, sir.” He thrust a portable signing device at Kane. “Sign here, please, to acknowledge receipt.”
Kane took it, moving out of the doorway as the two men trudged up his walkway carrying a large flat box. Was it a TV? What the hell? There were no markings on the outside to determine what was inside and the men weren’t talking. With a sigh, Kane signed the device and handed it over to the first guy.
“Where do you want it, sir?”
Kane waved a hand behind him. “Just put it down anywhere. I have no idea what it is.”
They did then exited the house. He patted his pockets for his wallet, but the first guy shook his head as all three headed back to the