Matt wasn’t the only one who fell for thosebig, puppy-dog eyes of hers. Some days, Vic thought her superpowers exceeded his.
* * * *
Though Matt didn’t want to risk losing theirreservation, he didn’t take the interstate up to Ashland. It wasonly a few miles north of Richmond, less than ten minutes on I-95,but not in Friday night rush hour. Better to take Route 1, whichwas a straight shot from their apartment to the restaurant. TheU.S. Route ran parallel to the interstate. South of Richmond, itwas known as the Boulevard, then Jefferson Davis Highway. In thecity, it became Belvidere Street, but once it crossed Broad Street,it was called Chamberlayne. Where Matt picked it up, it was BrookRoad. When they reached Ashland, it became North WashingtonHighway. The Iron Horse was a posh restaurant off Washington thattook twenty minutes to reach, and there was no traffic tofight.
Matt had never been to the Iron Horse before,but he’d heard Roxie talk about it as a possible place to hold thegym’s Christmas party last year. They ended up at a place downtown,closer to her apartment, naturally—she was the one who made thefinal reservations, so of course she’d pick somewhere near her ownhome. She only provided the boss with a handful of choices to givehim the illusion that he was the one making the decision,but Matt knew she’d sabotaged the menus of all the otherrestaurants to stack the cards in her favor. When Matt had seen aGroupon for the restaurant a few months later, though, he snaggedit in the hope of taking Vic there one evening. They didn’t go outoften, but Valentine’s was a special day.
The evening’s plan was simple. Eat reallygood, expensive food. Get plastered on really good, expensive wine.Let Vic drive home, then ravish his lover for the rest of thenight. Matt had already planned to linger on the love making, butnot getting any sugar Thursday had made him even hornier. Addliberal amounts of wine, and he’d be hard all the way home.
Maybe they should have brought Vic’scar, now that Matt thought about it. Yeah, it wasn’t hot or flashy,but there was enough room for them to lay back the seats and screw.Matt’s car was too small for anything more than foreplay, and Mattwanted so much more before the night was through.
Using Route 1, they reached the restaurantwith only minutes to spare. Luckily Matt found a parking spotacross the street. As he cut off the engine, Vic glanced around thelot. “I don’t think you’re supposed to park here,” he warned.
Matt simply shrugged. “So if we get a ticket,just call up your girlfriend and she can trash it.”
“She’s with the city,” Vic reminded him.“This is the county. Different police force. I don’t know anyoneout here.”
“We’ll be fine.” Matt pocketed his keys andexited the car. He hurried around the back and reached Vic’s doorjust as it swung open. Holding it wide, he reached a hand into thecar and grinned at his lover. “Milord.”
“I feel like a clown squeezing out of thistiny little tin can,” Vic grumbled, but he took Matt’s hand andused it to help leverage his exit. “Why can’t you like monstertrucks instead? At least I wouldn’t have to pry myself out of oneof those.”
Matt laughed. “Guys who like big trucks areonly trying to compensate for their small dicks. I don’t havethat problem.”
Vic wrapped an arm around Matt’s waist andpulled him close for a quick kiss. “Lucky me.”
The wind whipped down the dark streetbitterly as the two men hurried to cross. Inside the restaurant,though, it was light and warm and more than a little noisy, betweenlaughter and conversations, tinkling glasses, scraping forks. Thehostess seated them immediately, but as they followed her throughthe crowded dining room, it was obvious theirs was the last tableavailable. It was on the same side as the parking lot, and eventhough they weren’t by the window, Matt could lean forward and justbarely see the taillight on his Jag through the glasses on thetable next to theirs.
As he settled in his seat, Vic smirked. “Areyou going to do that all throughout dinner?”
Matt sat back. “Not unless you want to keepan eye on it for me.”
“I told you not to park there.”
Matt looked up as a young waiter approachedtheir table. If he was old enough to drink, he didn’t look it. Hisasymmetrical haircut looked fey—Matt pegged him as queer before heeven opened his mouth. “I’m Aaron, your server tonight,” the kidsaid with a tight grin as he placed a menu in front of Matt. “Arewe waiting for anyone to join us?”
::What’s this ‘we’ shit?:: Vicmuttered silently.
Matt stifled a laugh. “No, it’s just the twoof us all by ourselves on Valentine’s Day.”
Something in the tone of his voice madeAaron’s eyes widen. Yeah, Matt thought with a smirk, it’slike that. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.
Apparently, Aaron did. His smile widened andthe way he leaned down over their table was friendlier than before.When he glanced from Vic to Matt then back again, Matt didn’t needtelepathy to read his mind. The kid’s gaze lingered on Vic. “Well,”Aaron drawled, “I’m glad you’re at my table tonight. Ifthere’s anything I can get you, anything at all, justlet me know.”
He didn’t look at Matt—he only had eyes forVic. Matt bit the inside of his lip to keep from grinning like afool. Vic always thought of himself as unattractive, a big brute ofa man unworthy of attention, yet more often than not, he seemed tobe the one people were drawn to, not Matt. As Vic perused the menu,ignoring the waiter, Matt silently told his lover, ::Someone hasa not-so-secret admirer.::
Vic glanced up at Matt, confused. Then hisgaze flickered to Aaron, and his brows lowered as he scowled.::God, please. Isn’t he out past curfew?::
Aaron continued to stare at Vic, his smile alittle simpering. Matt nudged the waiter’s foot
