“I know what it means.”He didn’t snap it out, so maybe Ian hadn’t screwed up.“How would your assistant know where two guys might want to go on a date?”
Ian picked up his menu again, but couldn’t really concentrate on it yet.“Her little brother’s gay.She said some of his dates have taken him here.”
When he peeked over the top of his menu, he could see Sam’s mouth forming a silent “oh” while he looked around curiously.Ian smiled to himself and finally managed to read his menu.
“They have coquilles Saint Jacques,” he said, surprised.
“Scallops?You like scallops?”Sam looked at him strangely.
“Yeah.”
Sam kept staring at him.“You know, you aren’t really what you seemed at first,” he finally said.“I thought you’d be this working-class guy who drinks beer and watches ESPN2 hoping women’s gymnastics is on.But you’re into guys and you can say coquilles Saint Jacques with a quasi-French accent.”
Ian smirked.“I like beer and gymnastics, but I’m hoping the men’s team is competing.”
Sam cocked his head.“To be the director of a department at a state agency, don’t you need to have a degree?I know you said something about college ...”
Ian gave him a look.“Seriously?You think most guys who’re firefighters never went to school, don’t you?Firefighting’s competitive—most people have at least a two-year degree in Fire Science.”He looked back at his menu.“I got a bachelor’s in chemistry before I became a paramedic.”When he glanced up from under his brows, Sam had that silent “oh” on his lips again.
Hell.“And I finished up my master’s in public administration while I was recovering from the accident,” he said.
Sam’s eyebrows flew up, though he didn’t look surprised exactly—he looked smug.Ian felt Sam’s foot nudge his calf under the table.“You got yourself some book learnin’, huh?”
Ian laughed loudly enough that people nearby looked at him, but what the hell?Sam was cute.
After telling Ian he’d decided on the cedar-plank salmon, Sam leaned over the table to whisper, “Did you notice the kinds of guys that are in here?”
He looked around.There was the odd male-female pairing, but mostly he saw guys.Usually two to a table, mostly on dates as far as he could see.“Gay guys?”he whispered back.
Sam kicked him lightly in the shin, scowling playfully.“I mean what type of gay guys.”
Ian looked again.He couldn’t suppress the smirk.Definitely a few older guys with very young dates.“Looks like chicken is the house specialty.”
Sam nearly snorted out the water he was drinking.He kicked Ian again while laughing.“Does that mean I’m your boy?”
Yes.“No.”Ian smirked.“I should have asked Dalton where to take you myself,” he continued, “but he won’t start work until next week.I have a feeling his take on this place would be different than Andy’s.”
“He’s working for you?”
Ian nodded.“Just hired him yesterday.He’s a nice kid.More your type than I am.”He folded his menu and let his eyes wander around the room.
“What do you mean?”Sam asked.Fortunately, their waiter showed up to take their orders before Ian had to answer.After that, Ian got him to talk about what he read.It was supposed to be a simple, polite question, because he wasn’t really into reading—Ian read when he had to, and otherwise didn’t—but Sam was full of surprises.
“You read romance novels?”
Sam lifted his chin and took a turn looking around the room.“Yes,” he answered firmly.“I do.”
“So ...gay romance novels?”Werethere gay romance novels?
Sam fiddled with the wine he’d ordered, twirling the glass in slow circles on the tablecloth.“Yes, and het ones.”
“Het like heterosexual?”Ian was trying not to smile.He’d been getting used to thinking of Sam as cute, but this was a whole new level of cuteness.
“Yeah, like heterosexual.”
Their salads came, so Ian let Sam have a breather, but he had no intention of letting him off the hook.
“So, reading romance novels, this helps you with your writing?”Ian asked as soon as the waiter had ground their pepper and otherwise made himself necessary, then left.
