Of Love and Corn Dogs (9 page)

“I think you look great,” Ricky told him, a smile on his lips as his gaze raked over Darwin's form. “I've half a mind to ask if you want to forget about going out and stay here.”

“We could do that,” Darwin replied, trying not to appear overenthusiastic.

Ricky chuckled. “We could, if my apartment weren't so damn hot. I swear, it's ten degrees warmer in there than outside. Merlin has camped out on the AC unit, and I think if we try to get him to move, he might do us some serious harm. He may be small, but he's got some sharp claws.”

Darwin grinned then gestured toward the door. “Point taken. We wouldn't want to displace the cat. If you're ready, our chariot awaits.”

Ricky moved with a graceful sway of his hips. To call it enticing would be a gross understatement. Darwin rushed forward and opened the door for Ricky, then pulled open the cab door as well.

“You do know I can open doors, right?” Ricky asked, but the slight quirk of his lips clued Darwin in to the fact he didn't mind the gesture at all.

The first part of the cab ride had taken place in relative silence once Darwin told the driver where they were going. He held his hands on his knees to keep them from bouncing and kept his eyes glued to the window so Ricky wouldn't see how freaked out his date had gotten.

“You sure you want to do this?” Ricky whispered.

Darwin's gaze snapped to him. “Yes! Why? Don't you?”
Please say yes. Please say yes.

“I do. But you seem so nervous. If you're uncomfortable, we can go another time.”

Taking a deep breath, which he exhaled slowly, Darwin tried for a smile. “I'm sorry. It's been a while since I've been out, and I'm really,
really
out of practice. I don't want to do or say anything that will have you regretting the choice to come with me.”

Ricky put his hand atop Darwin's. “I don't regret it at all. I promise.” He leaned forward and gave Darwin a peck on the cheek. “Just relax. If it helps, picture me in my underwear.”

That image—Ricky lying on the bed, stretched out, nothing but golden skin and thin underwear that left little to the imagination—went straight to Darwin's cock. He groaned and tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

“There, see? Now you're not nervous anymore.” Ricky waggled his eyebrows.

“You're a little shit,” Darwin hissed.

“I've been called worse,” he assured Darwin, smirking.

But his infectious grin seemed to have the desired effect as Darwin relaxed and leaned closer. The rest of the ride, Ricky chatted about his job hunting, his cat, and, happiest of all, how glad he was Darwin had called.

For his part, Darwin kept the conversation on Ricky. He didn't want to talk about himself. He couldn't be sure why, but Ricky finding out who he was frightened Darwin.

When the cab driver pulled up to the restaurant, Darwin gritted his teeth. They were really going to do this. They got out. Darwin paid for the cab then turned to the restaurant with its wide flower boxes, bursting with a variety of flowers in all the hues of the rainbow.

They entered the restaurant, and the host approached them. “Good evening, gentlemen. Welcome to Rossi's.”

Darwin informed the host about their reservation. He'd asked Heather to make them, because he'd dined here before with clients and didn't want any fuss to ruin the night. She assured him it would be discreet.

The host showed them to a booth tucked away into the back corner. A red and white checked cloth covered the table, and a small oil lamp on one side illuminated the silk flowers.

“This looks wonderful,” Ricky gushed as they sat.

The host handed them black leather-bound folders. Ricky opened his menu, and his eyes went wide.

“We are so in the wrong place,” he whispered after the host had walked away.

Darwin cocked his head. “Why?”

“This menu doesn't even have prices.”

The shock on Ricky's face made Darwin insanely happy. He'd never gone on a date with someone who would be concerned by cost. He and Dean had both had money when they'd met, and they'd never given a thought to buying a bottle of wine that might cost a few thousand dollars. He knew, without a doubt, Dean would have loved Ricky, too.

“That's because you have the date menu. You're not allowed to see the prices since I'm paying.”

“Is it okay if I order a salad?”

“Don't you like the food? We can go somewhere else if you'd rather.”

Ricky sighed. “It's not that. A meal at McDonald's is high cuisine for me. Plus, I can get a burger for Merlin. I worked in a restaurant like this, but other than the kitchen tastings, I've never eaten in one.”

“Trust me, this place isn't like Asiago. The food is more comfort style, not… What did you call it? Pretentious. This is what you'd find in an Italian kitchen, made by an elderly grandmother who thinks you don't eat enough and wants to fatten you up so you'll settle down and get married.”

Ricky's jaw dropped. “And you said
I
was a little shit.”

“Please,” Darwin said, “order whatever you want. It really isn't that expensive. If seeing the menu would make you feel better, I'll show you. I'd rather you didn't, because I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything. Just sit back and enjoy.”

“No,” Ricky said softly. He swallowed. “I guess if you can afford a shot of Macallan M, dinner shouldn't be a problem.” As soon as he'd said the words, Ricky's eyes went wide. “Oh, damn. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.” He lowered his head to the tabletop. “Crap.”

Taking Ricky's hand, Darwin smiled. “It's fine. I buy a shot once a year. I'm definitely not offended that you brought it up. And besides, it's nice you remembered me.”

Ricky sat back up and stared at Darwin. “Well…it was kind of hard to forget you. You gave me one of the biggest tips I'd ever gotten there. For what you gave me, I'd have to work two full shifts. So thank you.”

“You earned it, believe me. I treated you unfairly, and you didn't deserve that.”

Holding up a hand, Ricky said, “Stop. Please. We've moved past that. You brought me in corn dogs and a shake. You tried to save me from being fired. I think you went well above any apology with that.”

The thought warmed Darwin. “Okay, we won't talk about it again.”

“So, what do you do for a living?”

And just like that, Darwin's mood crashed. He didn't want to answer, because until now, he'd truly been enjoying himself. But he also didn't want to lie, because he respected Ricky.

“I work in an office downtown.” It was close enough to the truth.

“Okay, but doing what? I mean we talked about me, but I barely know anything about you. Favorite movies, music, books? Tell me about Darwin Kincade.”

“Favorite movie:
Beetlejuice
. Favorite music: It's going to sound weird, but when I'm at home, I usually listen to classical. It relaxes me. But the music we danced to? That's my favorite. It reminds me of this great guy who took me out, got me drunk, and didn't take advantage of me.”

The blush that stained Ricky's cheeks was absolutely adorable.

“I wouldn't, you know,” Ricky said, averting his gaze.

“What?”

“Take advantage of you.”

The earnestness in his voice, the blush on his cheeks, and look on his face told Darwin the story. It seemed important to Ricky that Darwin not think poorly of him. The arrival of the waiter saved him from having to comment.

“Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Simon, and I'll be serving you this evening. Would you like to start with a drink or an appetizer?”

Darwin looked at Ricky and arched his eyebrows.

Ricky put his menu down. “Nothing for me, thanks.”

Darwin sighed. “We'll have a double Italian sampler platter and an order of seafood pockets. And to drink, a bottle of Pinot grigio, please.”

The waiter jotted down the requests and told them he'd return in a few minutes to take their order. If Darwin thought he'd been nervous, now it seemed their positions had changed. Ricky kept sipping his water and looking anywhere but at Darwin.

“Ricky?” he said quietly, putting a hand over his date's as he again reached for his water.

“Yeah?”

“Please relax. I want this to be a fun date. Order anything you'd like. Try something you've never had before. If you like it, great. If not, we'll find something else. You showed me something new, so please let me do the same for you.”

Ricky couldn't tear his gaze away from Darwin. He'd been on many dates, but they were usually with guys who took him somewhere cheap, and then expected him to put out at the end of it. Most of them had been disappointed, because Ricky didn't do casual sex. His parents had been married twenty-two years, and his mother had sat him down when he'd turned sixteen after he'd told them he was gay. She'd explained to him that she loved him and being gay was nothing to be ashamed of. She'd told him she still expected him to bring home a nice boy. One who respected and loved him. And in order to do that, he had to respect himself, and not simply sleep with someone for the sake of it. She'd said feelings were important, too. If he couldn't picture himself with a person in five, ten, twenty years, then maybe he needed to keep looking.

In his relationships, he'd always looked at the man to determine if he could see spending his life with them. He never told them, of course. No one wanted to hear that you were picturing them for the long haul on the first date. But Darwin? So very different. He had an innate kindness toward people—at least when he wasn't being prickly—and he said please and thank you to their server. That showed class and a good upbringing.

But what Ricky found most attractive turned out to be the way Darwin urged him to simply let go and enjoy himself. He could only recall a couple of guys who had said that, but it usually ended up with them splitting the bill. Darwin had said he wanted Ricky to have a good time, and he shouldn't worry about the cost. He did, though. Another life lesson from his mother. People who spent a lot of money on you generally expected something at the end of the meal. Like dessert, she'd said, waggling her brows.

Ricky didn't think Darwin would do that, though. He wasn't sure why, but he felt comfortable with the man. They'd only gone out once, but Darwin seemed to be looking for the same thing Ricky had been searching for. A true connection. Not a quick and easy lay. Ricky had already done that a few times and wound up hating himself the next morning.

When Simon returned with a bottle of Pinot grigio in a chilled ice bucket and a heaping plate of amazing smelling appetizers, Ricky sighed and picked up his menu again. When he'd seen the shrimp linguini listed on the menu as the evening special, his stomach rumbled. Fortunately, Darwin hadn't heard it. Or, if he had, he'd kept the fact to himself. The description sounded so good to Ricky—six shrimp in a garlic-parmesan sauce served over whole-wheat linguini. But still, he figured the salad would be cheaper. While the place might not be Asiago, Ricky had an inkling what the food cost.

“I'll have—”

“The shrimp linguini, right?” Darwin asked, a grin playing on his lips. “I saw your finger stop there for a bit. And the look on your face spoke volumes.”

Ricky wanted to protest, but instead, he simply nodded.

“Excellent choice. We got the shrimp in today, and they're quite succulent. And you, sir?”

“I'd like the seafood combo, please. And if you wouldn't mind bringing a few extra plates, it would be appreciated.”

“Of course. I'll return soon with your meals. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy your apps. If you need anything, please let me know.”

“Thank you, Simon,” Darwin said, handing the menus back to their server.

After he walked away, Ricky peered at Darwin. “Do you know how many people remember the names of their server?”

“Pretty few, I suppose.”

“Like almost none. At Asiago, if people wanted my attention, they generally snapped their fingers at me like they were trying to call their dog. It's…nice to see someone who knows how to be decent to the help.”

“Well, I'm glad. I have to go to the bathroom. Dig in and enjoy something while I'm gone. Since you're the professional, if you want to pour us a glass of wine, it would be appreciated.”

Darwin stood and gave Ricky a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Darwin said, his eyes twinkling in the lamp light. “I'm really glad you're here.”

With those words, he headed toward the back of the restaurant.

Dutifully, Ricky poured the wine, then placed a glass on Darwin's napkin. He chuckled, because the habit of setting a table had been so deeply engrained. The scent of the food had his stomach growling, so Ricky speared a toasted ravioli and dipped it in the warm marinara sauce. It practically melted in his mouth, and an embarrassing noise escaped.

“Good going,” he mumbled. “Darwin's going to think you shouldn't be taken in public.”

“How's the food?” Darwin asked, startling Ricky.

“I only tried the ravioli, but it's really good.”

“Great.
Mangia
!”

Ricky cocked his head.

“It means eat in Italian. The owners are old-country trained. Their great-grandparents came over about sixty years ago and started this restaurant. It passed through the generations until Bertina and Gio took it over. And they'll be leaving it to their kids.”

“Been here much?” Ricky teased.

Darwin grinned. “A couple times. I like the ambiance. These people? They make you feel like family.” He paused a moment, then he cocked his head. “What would you think about working here?”

It wasn't as though the thought hadn't crossed his mind. From the little bit he'd seen, the relaxed atmosphere, the smiles of both the waitstaff and customers, plus the food? He knew he'd like this place. The problem, of course, it was too far from home to walk.