Page 44 of Warrior's Cross

“But that’s—that’s crazy!” Cameron exclaimed. “Not only crazy, but it would get him, and me, all sorts of attention. I don’t want to sha—” He cut himself off with a surprised blink. Where did that come from?

“I’m sorry. Don’t want to what?” Blake asked.

Cameron flushed and sank back into the chair. “Shit, I’ve got it bad,” he murmured.

“I can see that,” Blake agreed with a laugh. His smile faded, and he leaned back in his chair again, bringing his hands together against his stomach as he looked at Cameron thoughtfully. “Try to fall slower,” he advised, that tone now serious.

Cameron went still. “Are you going to tell me why you say that?” he asked, meeting Blake’s eyes.

Blake tapped his finger against the back of his hand. “You told me you didn’t want to know,” he pointed out.

After a long moment of quiet, Cameron nodded and stood. “Yeah. I did.” He moved to the door.

“Cameron?” Blake said softly.

Cameron turned his chin to look over his shoulder as he paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I hear there’s been trouble with the vineyards this year,” Blake said to him. “Keep the house wine. We’ll stick with them for a bit longer.”

The corner of Cameron’s mouth turned up. “Good night, Blake.”

“Sleep well, Cam,” Blake responded with a sigh.

Cameron nodded and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him. He stood there a moment, then openedthe door again and stuck his head back in. Blake hadn’t moved. He still sat there looking at Cameron expectantly.

“What does the name of the restaurant have to do with the god of war?” Cameron asked him curiously.

Blake snorted. “Google it, Cam,” he advised with a smirk. “Good night.”

Cameron grunted in annoyance and closed the door again. He dropped his head back against the door and decided it was time to go home.

As the weeks passed, Julian spent Tuesday nights after the restaurant closed at Cameron’s, and he showed up every Friday morning like clockwork, staying as long as he was able. Sometimes it was early Saturday morning before he left.

Now, another Tuesday had come around, and it was two nights before Valentine’s Day.

The restaurant’s décor was classy, as always, but now fresh roses in a myriad of reds, pinks and whites filled vases around the floor, and all the ladies took a few home with them. The dessert menu featured triple the number of items, strolling violinists promoted the romantic atmosphere, and the staff had a hard time keeping champagne cold because the bottles were going out so fast. Tuesdays was booked to capacity with a waiting list every day of the week.

When Julian stepped into the restaurant, he lost his usual air of mystery for a brief moment as he looked around at his surroundings with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected the restaurant to be decked out like it was. He recovered quickly, though, and schooled his face back to its polite mask.

Keri, well used to seeing him, greeted him with a smile and invited him in, leading him to one of the quieter alcoves. Julianwas silent as he followed, and he reached out discreetly to snag one of the roses from a vase as he passed. As Keri showed him his table, he produced it out of the folds of his coat as if by magic and handed it to her with a small smile.

She smiled widely and thanked him before telling him Miri would be right with him, and then she took up the extra place setting and was on her way. Julian watched her go before he shifted to steal another rose and seated himself. He couldn’t help but be disappointed that he wasn’t in Cameron’s section, but sometimes it was fun to watch him from afar. He supposed he could live with the nosy waitress for tonight.

Perhaps she’d be too busy to pry. Julian was feeling very amenable tonight.

It wasn’t long before Miri appeared. “Good evening, sir. Your regular?” she asked.

“If you please,” Julian answered with a nod. He produced the rose he’d hidden with a flourish and handed it to her with a tiny smile.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said, smiling a little more than usual. “I’ll be back with your wine in a bit.” As she walked toward the service area, she passed Blake, who said a few words to her. She nodded in response and went on her way, and Blake made his way to Julian’s table, pulled out the opposite chair, and sat down heavily.

“Damn Valentine’s crap,” Blake muttered to Julian as soon as he was seated.

Julian raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. “Scrooge,” he accused softly.

Blake turned up his nose. “Christmas is my kind of holiday. Valentine’s? I’m running out of creative jewelry to buy, you know?” he said defensively. “And the goddamned violinists are giving me a migraine,” he went on grumpily. “Unfortunately, Imake enough money on a single holiday to carry me through at least a month, if not more.”

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