Jules darted away from the window, entering the door a moment later. He waved off the host, heading straight for Elouan’s table.
Elouan rose. What should he do? A kiss? A hug?
Jules's hug appeared platonic rather than romantic. A buddy move, not an exchange between lovers.
Lover. Elouan had a lover. Not simply a date or a one-night stand, but a lover. Someone he wanted to see again and again. Might never want to stop seeing.
He helped Jules out of his jacket, then returned to his seat, Jules taking the seat opposite at the booth. “I’m pleasantly surprised to see you. I was starting to think I’d dreamed you.” Oh shit. Couldn’t he have led with something else?
“I’m sorry. Aunt Moira and Uncle Ray lost family and wanted me close.”
“No kin of yours?”
“No. She and Uncle Rad…Ray aren’t blood kin, but they raised me. I didn’t know their family. I wish I had.”
What had Jules almost said? Rad what? “I’m sorry for their loss, but glad you got to come.” Gladder than Elouan wanted to admit. That Jules still lived with them spoke volumes, when most men of his experience left home at the first opportunity. Then again, finances would’ve been easier for Leon if Curtis had lived at home while attending college. Jules struck Elouan as practical.
“What’s good here?” Jules sniffed the air in a very dragon-like manner.
Was Elouan projecting his desire for Jules to be a dragon? Not fair. He needed to put those thoughts out of his head and enjoy the man with him.
“What do you like?” Elouan perused the menu, gaze falling on one of his favorites.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t had much Italian food, except for pizza and Aunt Moira's lasagna.”
Elouan feigned shock, eyes and mouth wide, and hand splayed over his chest. “You poor dear boy. You’re missing out. Do you have any food allergies?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you trust me?” Elouan studied Jules intently.
Jules never hesitated before answering, “Yes.”
Why did one word thrill Elouan so? Or maybe the trust made him feel all warm inside. He asked, “Do you like wine?”
A wrinkle appeared between Jules’s brows. “I don’t know.”
“You’ve never had beer, wine, liquor?” How had this man lived so long without wine, ale, beer….
Jules shook his head, making his blond curls bounce. “Never.”
“If you want to try it, fine, but you don’t have to,” Elouan assured him, though he’d hoped to split a bottle.
“Can I try a sip?”
“Sure.”
The server approached, placing two glasses of water on the table. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “Good evening. What can I get you gentlemen to drink?” Unlike at pricier restaurants where the staff dressed in suits, this man wore a white button-down shirt with khaki slacks, appearing neat without being stuffy.
Elouan wasn’t a big fan of stuffy. “A bottle of Chianti, please. And I’ll have the beef lasagna.” He folded the menu. “For both of us.” Best to stick close to what Jules was used to. They could try other dishes later. And he hoped there’d be a later. A lot of laters.
The server won points by raising an eyebrow at Jules, who nodded vigorously. No letting one date plow over the other, making all the decisions. Good. Elouan didn’t enjoy being theone to grin and nod while his overbearing date made all the decisions. He’d even walked out on a doctor once for such rude behavior.
The server returned Jules’s nod, adding a gentle smile. “Very good, sir. We have an excellent Chianti.”
A couple of Elouan’s dates had taken him to high-end restaurants with different servers for wine, food, dessert, etcetera. He’d always felt uncomfortable in such environments, like those men tried to force him into a mold he didn’t fit into, which proved prophetic by how they treated him later—as arm candy and fun in bed. They’d been demanding, snarlingDon’t you have anything better to wear?Andlong hair at your age?They’d all turned out to be selfish lovers.
Speaking of being selfish…. “How was your week?” Elouan asked, not merely making polite conversation, but truly eager to know, especially since he’d worried about not seeing Jules around.
