Scott nodded his willingness to obey that order.
“What’s your all-time favourite meal?”
Scott couldn’t help but follow Joe’s command. He didn’t think before his lips started moving. “Hamburger meal from McDonalds.” He cursed himself the moment the words hit the air. “But I l-like this kind of food too,” he rushed to add.
Joe stared straight into Scott’s eyes for several seconds. Then he nodded, just once, as if making a decision. Standing up, Joe held out his hand to Scott.
Pure instinct made Scott place his hand in Joe’s palm. Joe pulled him unceremoniously to his feet. Scott had little choice but to try to keep up with Joe as Joe strode across the restaurant, still holding onto Scott’s hand.
Heads turned to watch them go. Scott was sure he would have blushed bright red, if it weren’t for the fact he’d felt every drop of blood drain from his face when he realised just how badly he must have offended Joe.
“Sorry, mate,” Joe said, as he brushed past the maître d’ without even slowing down. “Change of plans.”
It was all Scott could do to stay on his feet as Joe strode on, his long legs eating up the ground at an astonishing pace. When they reached the pavement outside the restaurant, Scott knew he had to do something. He dug his feet in as best he could, and tugged hard against Joe’s grip on his hand.
His elbow and wrist protested, but Scott held his ground until Joe looked over his shoulder and came to a stop. Joe’s expression was a mixture of surprise and confusion; as if it had never occurred to him that Scott would try to bring them to a halt without his permission.
“I’m s-so sorry,” Scott blurted out. “I really d-didn’t mean to blurt out something s-so stupid. I m-mean, you went to all this t-t-trouble and—”
“Do shut up. There’s a good boy,” Joe said.
Scott shut up, took a deep breath, and braced himself for the worst.
Releasing Scott’s hand, Joe undid his own tie and the top button of his shirt. He let out a sigh of relief. “Damn, but I’m glad that’s over.” Joe pushed his hand through his hair and the thick black strands immediately resumed their usual disordered style. He rolled his shoulders, as if working out a week’s worth of tension from the muscles.
Scott blinked. Suddenly, he was face to face with the Joe he had come to know and… Scott’s mind rebelled at that point, refusing to even consider what word might best finish that particular sentence.
But that didn’t change the fact that the man who stood before Scott now looked a lot more like Scott’s familiar version of Joe—and a dozen times hotter than the imposter that had tried to take his place.
First things first. “You’re n-not pissed off with me?” Scott checked.
* * * * *
Joe rolled up his tie and pushed it into his pocket. Taking his uncomfortable suit trousers off in the middle of the street probably wasn’t a good idea, but it was tempting. He’d have given damn near anything for a well-worn pair of jeans or leathers.
He glanced at Scott as he turned his attention back to the conversation. “Why would I be pissed off with you?”
“Because you set up a b-big fancy date and I r-r-ruined it?” Scott suggested.
Joe chuckled as he shrugged his suit jacket off and slipped his finger through the loop inside the neck so he could toss it over his shoulder. “That just proves you’ve got good taste. Bloody awful place, wasn’t it?”
Scott said nothing.
Joe stopped wishing that he’d thought ahead and brought a change of clothes along with him. He studied Scott more carefully. “I thought that kind of place would be right up your street.” He rubbed his jawline as he frowned, mildly annoyed with himself, but not altogether disappointed he’d read Scott wrongly in this instance. “I still have a bit of work to do on understanding the whole vanilla romance thing, don’t I?”
Scott blinked, as if he really hadn’t had a clue why Joe had booked a table there until that moment. “You don’t n-need to—”
“To do whatever the hell I want?” Joe finished for him. “Pity, because I fully intend to. Do you know this part of town?”
Scott shook his head.
Joe looked down each of the cross roads. There wasn’t a McDonalds in sight— another reason to hate the posher part of the city. “Got your car with you?”
Scott seemed to have reverted to his completely mute mode. He shook his head again.
“Good, because we’re taking mine.” Joe strode off toward the side street he’d parked on. It took him a few seconds to realise that he could only hear one set of footsteps. Turning around, he clicked his fingers to get Scott’s attention.
Scott came obediently to his side. Joe looped his arm casually around Scott’s shoulders. “We’re going to have to work on your ability to walk at heel.” When Scott seemed about to speak, Joe kept going without giving him the chance. “Here’s the deal. Unless I tell you to stay, I expect you to keep up with me. Imagine you’re a puppy. If I walk away, you follow me. Understand?”
