“What did you call this dish again?” Wycke asked, pointing to his plate with his fork. The scent of spices filled his nose. Also, tomatoes and some kind of cheese. His stomach liked the presentation, growling its approval.
“Lasagna.” Piers gave a rueful laugh. “I can’t believe you’ve never had Italian food before. Try it. It’s awesome. My favorite.”
Wycke eyed the dish skeptically. Back home, any time the cooks used this much sauce and cheese, they hid something disgusting underneath—like tripe.
Piers took a bite of his own meal, closed his eyes, and moaned.
That moan had the potential of becoming Wycke’s next favorite thing. He hid interest by taking a bite of the tomato-and-cheese-covered whatever. Oh, ancestors! Excellent!
Piers chuckled. “I knew you’d like it.”
“This is wonderful!” Maybe Wycke should steal whoever’d made this to take home and teach the palace cooks.
“So, what about you? What kind of work do you do?” Piers paused eating to ask.
What could Wycke say? What equivalent to his life did the human world have? “My family is in politics.” Close enough to the truth.
“Ah!” Piers nodded. “No wonder you have to watch yourself. Are you out to your family? Is that why you’re in town trying to hook up with men in clubs?”
Out? Oh! Wycke discovered on earlier trips that some in this realm had a negative opinion about men who took other men to bed, and who happily and loudly foisted their bigotry on others. “As long as I don’t start scandals, my family doesn’t care what I do.” Not precisely true, but not a complete lie either.
The dinner conversation went well after the initial awkwardness. Sure beat court drama, which had a way of curbing Wycke’s appetite. Several times he paused, reaching out his senses toward Piers.
Nothing. Not the barest trace of magic. It had to be there. George the Ogre didn’t lie, and Wycke knew what he’d felt.
Before he knew it, he’d eaten his entire portion. He should have slowed down! He’d offered dinner to get to know Piers. Nothing more. Who could blame him for wanting more?
But hedidwant more. More conversation, more of Piers’ smile. More laughs.
The server brought the check. Wycke paid with his gold card, adding a generous tip.
Piers stretched, ice-blue gaze riveted on Wycke.
An awkward silence fell. What could Wycke do or say to make this night last longer? Oh! Maybe honesty. “I’m not ready for this night to end. Is there anything you’d like to do?”
Piers grinned. “Did you bring your coat?”
Wycke nodded. “Sure. I left it at the door.”
While Piers visited the men’s room, Wycke hurried to the front. Now to conjure a coat. Long. Warm. Comfortable. A fuzzy woman’s coat appeared on the empty hook. Oops. So Wycke didn’t have complete control over his magic, but at least he’d managed a coat. He duplicated the man’s coat on the next hook on his third try.
Piers approached. “Oh! Nice coat! Are you ready?”
They left the restaurant, Wycke in his nice coat and Piers in a black leather jacket. At least Wycke hadn’t overdressed, wearing jeans, boots, and a simple fairy-provided sweater he’d found in the closet, and that television programs confirmed was fashionable. The damned familiar watched alotof TV.
They started down the street. “Where are we going?” Wycke looked around. After sunset, and still, people filled the sidewalks.
“Just for a walk, if you don’t mind.”
Wycke waved a hand. “Lead on.”
Piers took his hand. Once more, a jolt like lightning charged up Wycke’s arm through the connection. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Did he? No lover had ever held Wycke’s hand before. Of course, he couldn’t remember doing anything as simple as taking a walk with any of them either. He gave Piers a smile. “I can think of nothing better.”
Gods and ancestors! If anyone saw Wycke now, actually interested in someone without luring them into bed within moments of meeting, he’d lose his bad-boy reputation. Then what? When one didn’t own much, their reputation or lack thereof became of the utmost importance.
They strolled hand in hand down the sidewalk, only breaking contact when the crowd forced them apart. Several shops were open, even long after sunset. Piers stopped in front of a window. A metal dragon flew in circles on the other side of the glass. What sorcery was this?
