Had he just been wondering why he’d come? Don’t be nuts. Micah squeezed Queen’s hand just a little and felt an answering squeeze in his balls. “Would you like a drink, or we can go straight to our table? They said it’s ready.”
“The table’s fine.” The word came out “fahn,” and Micah almost sighed. Still holding his hand, Micah led his beautiful companion around the already full tables and down the small ramp into the back room of the shabby-chic restaurant. Heads turned, both male and female. Appropriate. The owner had given him a table for two tucked into a corner. Best spot in the house. Nice of him since Micah hardly qualified as a regular.
He held Queen’s chair, then sat beside him. “You look beautiful.”
“Most kind. You look mighty fine yourself.”
Micah ducked his head. Embarrassing how many times he’d changed clothes trying to decide what Queen would like. “Thank you.”
The busboy brought them two little glasses of some kind of white wine and a tray of crackers with what had to be goose liver. He hadn’t ordered it but remembered being told it was a regular part of the meal. Try not to shudder. Fortunately there were also some radishes and slices of raw zucchini on the plate. Micah grabbed one and put it on his bread plate. Lifeline.
“Cheers.” Queen held up his glass, and Micah clinked it. The sip wasn’t half bad. Some very mild wine. “What is it, do you think?”
Queen smiled. “It’s vermouth. Never had it before?”
“No, but it’s good.”
Queen smeared some of the brownish paste on a cracker. God, Micah didn’t even want to think about it. He nibbled the zucchini.
The waiter stepped up to their table. He was a pleasant-looking guy who was so relaxed and at home he clearly owned the place, or at least had a vested interest. “Hi. What can I get you to drink?”
Queen looked at Micah. “What are you going to have?”
Might as well ask. “Do you happen to have any organic wines?”
“Yes, actually we have two.” The waiter opened the wine list and pointed to two brands. Micah didn’t know the names. “I’d like a glass of whichever one you recommend.”
Queen nodded. “That sounds good. I’ll try that too.”
The waiter left, and they both picked up their menus. Micah was clearly going to have to strike some kind of deal with the waiter, because no way he could eat this food.
Queen glanced up through his lashes. “What do you like?”
God, it was hard being such a pill, but harder not to be. “Actually, I eat mostly raw food, so I’m going to ask them to make me a salad.”
“Interesting.” Queen took another bite of his cracker. “I’m assuming you don’t eat raw meat.”
“No, I’m vegan.”
Queen got a scolding-teacher look on that pretty face. “So why on earth didn’t you choose a place where you could get something to eat?”
Micah grinned. “I wanted to take you to a place you’d like. Plus I’m sure they’ll feed me.”
“All appearances to the contrary, I really am a man. I’m actually a pretty well-off man, and I don’t expect you to pay for dinner. I enjoy you letting me do my little masquerade with you, but I want to pay the check, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
Micah frowned. “That wasn’t my plan.”
“Your chivalry is duly noted and sincerely appreciated, kind sir.”
Wow. Queen kept surprising him.
The waiter came back with the wine. “Have you decided on dinner, or do you need a few more minutes?”
Queen put his hand on the waiter’s arm and literally fluttered his lashes. The waiter’s laid-back command got a little less so at Queen’s melting smile. “My friend needs a lovely big salad with many wonderful vegetables in it. Can you do that? He eats his food raw, you see.”
“I’m sure the chef can come up with something great.”
“Why, thank you. And I would like the salmon, please. With that lovely caper sauce you have described in the menu.”
“Excellent choice. Rice or potatoes?”
“Rice will be fine.”
The waiter walked away, and Queen raised his glass. “To getting what we want in this life.”
“Hear, hear.”
They both sipped. Dry and smooth. He could get used to this.
“So what led you to this raw-food choice?”
Micah stared at Queen’s full lips touched with pink and the wide blue eyes. Something in that gaze made him comfortable, which was weird since he didn’t even know what Queen really looked like, but still…. “I guess I could tell you all the truths about living enzymes and how cooking kills food and that our digestive system is not designed to eat meat.” He sighed. “But actually, my mother was an alcoholic who never met a vegetable she liked. As a child, I desperately tried to keep her from killing herself with her lifestyle. The worse she got, the more rigid I got.” He swallowed his wine against the pain in his guts. He hardly ever spilled said guts, and it was half sickening and half a relief.
“Finally she succeeded in doing herself in from alcohol poisoning. I was nineteen, and she had drunk up every dime we had every year of my life. No Christmas presents, no new school clothes. The only thing she had was a life insurance policy her parents had taken out for her. They’d arranged to have the premium paid automatically from their small estate after they died. It came to me. I didn’t have enough for chiropractic school, so I studied nutrition and health and bought a small health-food restaurant. That’s what I do.”
His heart slammed against his ribs. Man, that was the most personal shit he’d told anybody in… forever. He’d never even told Dharmaram about his mother. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get so gritty.”
Queen leaned forward and rested a hand on his arm. “Funny how we shape our lives either in concert or in opposition to our blood kin.”
Micah nodded. Some little trickle of the pain he’d never quite released
