Page 13 of Brighton

Best to feel this one out first, Daddy.

My brain landed on theget him nothingcategory. I didn’t know Brighton well enough and what he’d shared of his parents wasn’t pleasant and they’d likely already mentally beaten into him thatthose weren’t gifts for real men. I’d likely bite through my tongue the first time I met them. I’d barely raised my hand to knock when the door flew open and there he stood.

“Brighton, you look so handsome.” Dressed in a pair of black slacks and shoes and a long-sleeved burgundy button-up shirt. There was just something about it that was…perfect.

“Thank you, so do you.”

“Grab a warm coat, gloves, and a hat and scarf for afterward.” I didn’t want to give away too much, but it had begun to snow. Brighton shot me a sideways glance. “Trust me, you’ll need it. Shall we?” By the time we reached the lobby door, he was bundled up.

We pulled up to the restaurant and as we got out Brighton gasped. “Spencer's Steakhouse? This is rather pricey. I'm not sure about this.”

I handed the valet the truck keys in exchange for a claim ticket. “Don't worry, baby boy, it's on me. I asked you out, so I pay.” The baby boy just slipped out and I wasn’t sure how he felt about that, though his eyes did widen, but he said nothing. I placed my hand at the small of his back as we walked inside, somewhat emboldened by his lack of response to the pet name faux.

“Dinner for two for Edward,” I informed the hostess as we stepped up to the podium.

“Yes, we have your table ready, sirs. Please, follow me.” She led us to a table that faced the windows and even though the sun had set the views of our next stop on our date we're bright and shimmery.

“Edward, look at the Christmas lights. They're so beautiful.” Brighton nearly sang as he took a seat. I didn't want to give away too much since that was indeed our next stop, I had a feeling all of this holiday fun was new to Brighton, and I was excited to experience the wonder with him.

“I love Christmas lights. When I was younger my parents would load us up in the car and we'd drive through the neighborhoods. We always stopped at the little red hot chocolate truck. I can't remember if that was the real name of it or not, but as a child that's how I remembered it. We'd get a cup of hot cocoa about midway through and keep driving until I was yawning and ready for bed.” I was truly blessed with the loving parents I had.

“Sounds like you had a great childhood. I wish I could say the same. My parents thought it was a waste to get a tree, real or artificial, so we never had one. I got a couple of gifts each Christmas though no stocking.” Brighton shrugged, “I really have nothing to complain about and don’t mean to sound like a brat. It’s just they’d hand them to me and walk away. It always felt like my parents thought gifts were something they had to give versus something they actually wanted to do.”

With each word he spoke I liked his parents less and less, not that I didn't already have a bad taste in my mouth for them. I was sure when our paths crossed it would take everything in my power to keep my mouth shut. I should be thankful they kept a roof over his head and food in his belly, but there was so much more to parenting than that.

“Do you know what you’d like to order? I've been here before and I'm a creature of habit, so I already know what I’m getting—surf and turf.” I folded the menu and set it aside. I could already taste the perfectly seasoned beef.

“There are no prices on this menu which makes me even more nervous. Maybe I'll just stick with the grilled chicken salad.” Brighton sighed and sat his menu aside.

“You'll do no such thing unless that is exactly what you want. Look me in the eye, Brighton, and tell me, is that what you want to eat?” He chewed on his bottom lip and nervously shifted in his seat.

“No, I kind of want what you're having.”

The waitress chose that moment to walk up to take our orders. “Good evening, gentlemen, I’m Dauphine and I’ll be your waitress tonight. Would you like to hear the chef’s specials?”

“No, thank you, Dauphine, we’ve already decided.”

“Excellent, what can I get you?”

“Two for the surf and turf, please. I'll have mine medium rare, and how would you like yours cooked, Brighton?” His eyes widened for the second time since I picked him up.

“Rare, please.”

We ordered our side dishes along with our drinks and then Brighton’s gaze returned to the windows. He was in awe, and I was excited to share this holiday season with him.

Chapter Seven

Brighton

“Oh my God.” I leaned back in my chair, far too tempted to unbutton the top button of my slacks but this wasn't the time nor the place for that. “I am so full, Edward. Thank you, dinner was fantastic.”

“You are very welcome,” he smiled warmly at me. The way Edward looked at me was everything, like I meant something to him.

The waitress chose that moment to clear our dishes away. “Would you gentlemen like to see the dessert menu?”

I stared at Edward, not sure what to say but I couldn’t fit another bite into these pants. “No, thank you. We've got another stop to make but we'll take the check, please.” He was always polite, never mean or rude to anyone.

She brought the check a few moments later and Edward gave her his card. Once he’d signed the receipt, he stood. “All right Brighton, get yourself bundled up for stop number two.”

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