Caught by surprise at Lance’s bawdy sense of humor, Tanner burst out laughing. Lance looked mighty proud of himself.
“You’re a bastard,” Tanner said with a chuckle. Lance shrugged but didn’t disagree. “I should have brought you somewhere nicer. I just—the weather was so nice, and I figured—”
But Lance didn’t let him finish. He placed his hand on Tanner’s shoulder and leaned in close.
“Stop. This is perfect. I don’t want to be wined and dined, T. God knows I hate pretentious food, and I wouldn’t know a good merlot from a boxed mixed red, not even on my best day.”
With a relieved sigh, he smiled, then looked at Lance questioningly.
“T?” he repeated. It wasn’t the first time Lance had used that nickname, but it was the first time he’d gotten to react to it honestly.
“You don’t like it?”
“Kind of love it,” he replied with a playful wink.
*****
The wings were just right, and the beer was ice cold. Tanner smiled across the table at Lance as he poured him another beer and they dove into a basket of wings. Lance thought he might be losing his mind because he’d only kissed this man for the first time a week ago and yet tonight, he was just one beer away from speaking those three little words that had no business showing up so soon. But there was no denying how he felt when Tanner looked at him with stars in his eyes.
Tanner rose from his seat to take his turn at bowling, and Lance tried to get his head back in the game. He wanted to win this competition. Loving on his man could wait.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! What the hell was that?” Tanner yelled, pulling at his hair, watching his throw go wildagainand end up in the gutter. He limped down the alley to retrieve their ball, muttering disconsolately the entire time about being scoreless.
“You sure you’ve been here before?” Lance teased him as he got up to take his turn.
“Zip it, Rain Man. Not a word out of you!” Tanner pointed his finger at him in warning.
“Or what?” Lance dared him while reaching for the ball.
“Or—insert the words that I can’t say in public with so many young ears around,” Tanner replied. Lance laughed and snatched the ball away.
He concentrated on the nine pins at the end of the alley, recalling the correct posture and motions he’d used years before when he’d bowled with his frat brothers. He stepped forward and released the ball, watching it roll down the lane and take out all the pins.
“Strike!” Lance shouted triumphantly, punching the air with his fist.
Tanner pretended to be furious and tried to frown but was smiling too much to pull it off.
“Lucky throw!”
Lance laughed as he went to re-set the pins and retrieve their ball. When he returned to their table, Tanner was busy scribbling away on the scoresheet.
“I don’t know if you should be left in charge of the scoresheet when you’re losing so pathetically. Might be tempted to cheat,” Lance joked as he plopped down next to him.
Tanner smirked and shrugged.
“Don’t worry, princess. You might be a no-good, rotten little cheater, but I’m a man of honour. I’ve written down every filthy point you’ve scored,” he declared, as he flipped the scoresheet over so Lance could see the numbers. “Here, you can check for yourself.”
Lance didn’t bother and simply winked at Tanner.
“Nah—it’s alright. Even a simple G.I. like you can do basic math,” Lance said as he handed him the ball.
Tanner huffed an incredulous laugh as he got to his feet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were riling me up on purpose just so you’ll win.”
“Except you’re already losing badly so—” Lance countered, enjoying the lighthearted bantering. It turned him on when Tanner responded so quickly. He was clever and astute, and Lance loved the challenge of that as well as his quirky sense of humour.
Tanner was about to give him a snarky comeback when he was suddenly interrupted by a woman’s voice calling out, “Hi, Lance!”
Lance automatically turned around, surprised to see Julie standing next to their table.
