So, giving into some insane urge, he called to make a last-minute reservation at a place that he’d frequented before joining the military, and hoped Lance would enjoy going there, too. He’d felt like a high schooler asking Lance out. Nervous, fumbling, and stuttering—but, hopefully, by the end of the evening, it would be worth it.
When Tanner got to Lance’s house, he walked in the front door and called out, “Hi, honey, I’m home!”
Lance had shouted back from the second floor that he’d be right down. While he waited in the front hall, he looked in the mirror to check on his mostly-out-of-control hairstyle, sincehe’d driven over with his window down. His hair almost touched his shoulders, which would have made his Army Gunny furious. He’d never worn his hair this long before, and he’d tried to tame it with styling paste, but it didn’t work too well. Frankly, he just needed to get his ass to a decent salon. But hey, at least he’d found some nice clothes for his date. After telling Lance to get dressed up, he figured he should too. Wearing a pair of ridiculously expensive designer jeans that Cameron insisted he just had to have, he’d topped them with a burgundy Henley and slipped into his well-worn Doc Martens.
He was still fussing with his hair when he heard footsteps behind him. He spun around, forgetting anything he might have said as he stood there tongue-tied, just taking in the glorious sight of Lance Kingsley, dressed up for date night.
A forest green sweater that lovingly wrapped around his impressive biceps and mile-wide shoulders topped a pair of tan cargo pants that were just tight enough to advertise his assets in the front and back. His closely trimmed beard accentuated his Hollywood good looks and looked just rough enough to make Tanner crave feeling it all over his body.
“Fuck, you clean up well,” Tanner finally managed to say, awestruck by his exceptionally handsome date. He had a sudden urge to strip Lance right there on the stairs and drag him off to bed. Fuck the date. This man was his and no one else’s and, while he might want to show him off, he desperately needed to put his hands all over him right here, right now. No delays. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
“You’re looking pretty damned good yourself,” Lance responded.
Tanner suddenly recalled their early morning calisthenics in the shower and all sense of decorum vanished, leaving him hot and bothered.
“How about we stay home instead of going out, and I fuck you against every wall of the house?” he growled suggestively, closing the distance between them and wrapping a hand around the back of Lance’s head to bring their mouths together.
Lance laughed as their lips touched, firmly pressing his crotch to Tanner’s. “What if I want to do the fucking?”
“Then I’ll happily bend over every available surface.” He was being perfectly serious. Hell, if tonight went the way he’d planned—and he hadplannedfor such an eventuality—he’d be offering his ass up to Lance on a goddamned silver platter. Thesurprisecurrently nestled up his ass made him wildly impatient to fast forward to that part of the evening.
Lance started laughing so hard he had to step back to catch his breath.
“Date first, fucking after,” Lance said, shaking his head. Then he leaned close to whisper in Tanner’s ear, “I want to show you off before I take you apart.” Tanner was so turned on as Lance pulled him out the door that he couldn’t remember his own fucking name.
The Backyard Inn had always been a popular night spot for the locals. Surprisingly enough, this was Lance’s first visit. Tanner loved this place, recalling how he’d spent half his teenage years hanging out in the parking lot until closing time so they could jump the fence and play on the bowling court free of charge. The fence was incredibly high now, so jumping over it was a thing of the past, but the rest of the setup still looked the same.
The concept was quite simple. It was an exterior bowling alley, except you put the pins back yourself, and you played with a soft rubber ball—instead of a regulation, hard plastic one. The rubber ball still had three holes, but it didn’t hurt anyone if it accidentally rolled into a neighboring lane. Each lane came witha table for four, allowing you to dine while you played. Some people only came for the food and never bowled, so Tanner refused to recognize them as real patrons. The real ones knew how to pace themselves, so they weren’t too full to bend over and pick up the ball. They also knew when your game was up, you needed to leave to make room for others to play. Hogging the tables just to eat was so not cool.
“I’m really confused about how this deal works,” Lance confessed as they claimed their reserved table. All of the other lanes were busy—Tanner mentally patted himself on the back for calling ahead—and Lance was watching them play like he’d never seen anyone bowl before.
“You’re a numbers guy—you’ll get it eventually,” Tanner said confidently, elbowing him amicably. “What should we get to drink? You feeling fancy or—”
“A pitcher works for me,” Lance replied, looking around at all the tables and seeing pitchers of beer on most of them.
“Pitcher it is,” Tanner declared, and raised his hand to summon a waitress.
“You’ve been here before, I take it.”
“We used to come here a lot when we were kids. Good food, lots to do, keeps the neighborhood kids occupied and off the streets. When I was a teenager, the back fence was only a few feet tall, and we used to jump it at night after the place closed. We’d set up old pop bottles and have a game after hours.”
“Well, it looks as if they found a way to correct that little oversight,” Lance said, nodding towards the substantial twenty-foot hedge that separated the back of the courtyard from the parking lot. Tanner snorted and nodded.
When a waitress stopped by their table, Tanner ordered a pitcher of beer and a basket of wings.
“How spicy would you like those? We have sweet, mild, medium, and the devil’s tears.”
“The devil’s tears?” Lance asked, chuckling at the name.
“Yup, straight from down under,” the waitress confirmed with a wink.
“Ha! I always knew the devil was Australian,” Tanner said, which got a laugh out of Lance and the waitress. “How about we start with medium? We can always ramp it up later!”
“Great, I’ll be right back with your order.”
“You okay with getting some wings? Sorry, should have asked before—” Tanner squirmed with discomfort.
“Are you apologizing for ordering wings?” Lance asked mockingly. “It’s true that I’ve recently acquired a taste for cock, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my love for wings.”
