Page 2 of Warrior's Cross

Cameron’s hands stilled, and after a moment spent caught in the man’s gaze, he offered the linen-wrapped bottle.

The man took it and nodded. “Thank you, Cameron,” he said softly. There was a hint of a polite dismissal in the words.

Cameron stared for a moment before snapping out of it. “You’re welcome,” he said as he placed the corkscrew within reach before stepping away. Hearing his name on the man’s lips made him shiver. It was... seductive. Without ever meaning to be, Cameron was sure.

The man waited until Cameron moved away before he deftly uncorked the bottle and poured himself an unseemly full glass. He looked up at the empty glass on the other side of the table for a long, motionless moment, then leaned over and poured a dainty glassful for the absent person who would sit across from him.

“Cam, what’s he doing?” Miri demanded curiously as soon as Cameron returned to the service area.

Cameron deliberately avoided looking out into the dining area, instead going to work on filling a bread-basket. “What do you mean?” he asked, feigning ignorance in the hope that his own curiosity wouldn’t show.

“He’s got two glasses tonight. Is he meeting someone? Was he talking to you? What’d he say?” Miri asked excitedly.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Cameron coaxed. He didn’t want her to know that as soon as he’d heard the mystery man’s voice, he’d fallen just a little more for him. It had been a long time coming, he knew. It was embarrassing enough to have a crush on a patron. It was worse to have a crush on someone who’d never actually spoken to you before.

Miri huffed and crossed her arms. “Well, it’s a slow night. Youcouldshare a little, you know? That guy is the biggest mystery most of us have going! Let me live vicariously!”

Cameron wouldn’t admit he felt the same way. He prided himself on his professionalism, and gossiping about patrons was not something he did or intended to start doing. “There’s nothing to share,” he insisted. “He asked for an extra glass; that’s all.”

Miri puffed her bottom lip out petulantly and turned to look out into the dining room. At the mostly hidden table for two in the far alcove, the mysterious man lifted his glass, toasted the one across from him, and then took a genteel sip of the expensive wine.

“That’s really weird,” Miri muttered as she watched.

“I’ve got work to do,” Cameron said quickly before he could cave and go to look. He lifted a crystal water pitcher in one hand and the bread basket in the other and then fled the prep area to the floor, filling water glasses and making inquiries as he slowly worked his way toward the man who sat alone with his two glasses of wine.

Upon arrival, Cameron set down the basket and filled the water glasses. Both of them.

No matter how much he wanted to, Cameron couldn’t come up with a question to ask in hopes the man would speak again. He’d seen other servers try to engage him in conversation, and it always made the dark man look annoyed or frustrated. Perhaps that was why he stayed in Cameron’s sections now, because Cameron never pressed him.

Cameron turned to leave, giving the man his privacy once more.

“How long have you worked here?” the man asked suddenly.

Arrested, Cameron turned to face him, trying not to show his continuing surprise. “Since Tuesdays opened eight years ago,” he replied warily, wondering why the man would ask.

The dark man looked at him steadily, his face expressionless and shadowed by the low mood lighting. “Do you enjoy what you do?” he asked.

Cameron felt unable to escape, pinned by those black eyes. He tried to avert his gaze by studying the man’s face instead, something he had never allowed himself to do at such proximity. It was all hard lines: a high forehead, triangular jaw,sharp cheekbones. This close, he was even more handsome than Cameron had thought. His close-cropped dark hair was just barely graying at the temples, and his neatly trimmed mustache and beard were impeccable. He always wore dark clothing, blacks and charcoal grays, which did little to disguise his tall, muscular body once he shed his heavy winter coat. That color—or lack thereof—suited him in a way Cameron couldn’t quite identify.

He was like a dark angel, to Cameron’s mind.

After a moment, Cameron focused on answering the question.

“Yes,” he said. “I do enjoy it. Why else stay so long?”

The man’s eyes slid away, and he turned to look back at the untouched wine glass. “Why, indeed,” he agreed, the words clearly signaling the end of the conversation.

Cameron glanced to the second wine glass and back to the man.

When dining here, the man had always been silent and polite, but surprisingly approachable in his own way, once Cameron got used to him. Tonight he just seemed... off. The fact he was speaking at all made this evening an unusual thrill. But the change in the man’s routine also worried him.

“Are you... is everything all right?” Cameron ventured in a hushed voice.

The man looked back at him as if surprised to see Cameron still standing there. He answered with a curt nod and looked away once more. This time the dismissal was clear.

Disappointed but not offended, Cameron moved away, only casting one look over his shoulder as he stopped several tables away to fill more water glasses. The man in the alcove didn’t look to have moved; he was still staring at the wine glass. The only movements he made were to bring his glass of wine to hislips and set it back down again. His eyes rarely strayed from the glass across from him as he waited for his dinner.

Cameron couldn’t help but wonder about him. What was he doing?

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