Page 35 of Bad to the Bone
Sweet Lord!The sight of Ricky Lee, still damp from the shower, the white towel around his waist contrasting against his dark, smooth skin, was enough to tempt Alex to strip as quickly as he’d dressed. No matter what Ricky Lee had planned for the rest of the evening, it couldn’t be more alluring than this.
He took a step forward, intent on peeling the towel away, but Ricky Lee stopped him with a look. “We have dinner reservations in thirty minutes. I don’t know about you, but I burned off that turkey wrap from the food truck a couple of hours ago. And you’ll be wanting all your energy later.”
Trying to sell himself on the benefits of anticipation, Alex asked, “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there.” Ricky Lee gathered up his clothes and returned to the bathroom to dress.
“I don’t remember you being this annoying as a kid.”
“I’ve had eleven years to practice.”
It was impossible for Alex to decide which Ricky Lee was sexier—the biker in his black leather and rainbow-embroidered jacket, or the sophisticate in his crisp white shirt and sleek evening suit. Ricky Lee pulled his hair back into a tail, buttoned his jacket, and offered his arm to Alex.
“Do we need to get the Challenger back from the valet?” Alex asked as they rode the elevator down.
“It’s only a bit over a mile to where we’re going. I thought we could walk.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Alex hadn’t realized he was warm until they stepped into the cool night air. The street they strolled down had obviously once been an industrial area but was being reclaimed as an entertainment district. While there were still some vacant lots and empty buildings, others were closed off by chain-link fencing, and small cranes and construction equipment showed they were under renovation. They passed a community theater and several restaurants and bars as they walked along the well-lit, landscaped boulevard. In about twenty minutes, they reached a brick building with marble accents and dark green awnings. Ricky Lee opened an ornately filigreed glass and brass door and ushered him inside.
“Welcome to On the Hoof, gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?” the tuxedoed maître d’ asked.
“Yes, under Jennings.”
He checked his computer and nodded. “Of course. This way, please, Mr. Jennings.” He gestured to a waiter holding two menus. “Denis will show you to your table. Enjoy your evening.”
To Alex’s surprise, the dining room resembled an elegant 1940s supper club. White-clothed tables topped with china, crystal, and origamied napkins ringed a sizable open area for dancing, with a bandstand designed for fifteen to twenty musicians at one end. Both were currently empty. The waiter escorted them to a table adjoining the dance floor and handed them their menus.
“Can I start you off with some cocktails?”
Ricky Lee looked at Alex, but he had no intention of drinking this evening. “Sparkling water with lime, please.”
“The same for me.” When the waiter turned toward the bar at the opposite end of the room, Ricky Lee said, “You can order a drink if you want. I don’t expect you to be a teetotaler just because I am.”
“I have a feeling I’ll need all my wits about me to deal with you,” Alex answered. “This is quite a place.”
“It was originally a private club back before the Depression. The building has gone through a lot of changes since then, but like a lot of this part of downtown, it’s been renovated, and now repurposed as a dinner and dance club.”
Denis returned with their drinks. “If you haven’t looked at the menu yet, I can strongly recommend any of our signature steaks.”
“I thought the restaurant’s name referred to the dancing,” Alex said with a nod toward the dance floor.
“That too, but the steaks are all prime and aged in-house.”
“I’ll have the ribeye, medium rare. Baked potato and a side of… grilled asparagus?” Ricky Lee glanced at Alex.
“It’s big enough to share,” the waiter confirmed.
“Sounds great. I’ll have my steak the same, please,” Alex said.
“Very good, sir. I’ll bring out some warm bread in just a minute.”
The food, when it arrived, was as delicious as the atmosphere promised. As they were finishing their steaks, the members of the band took their places and began playing a slow, bluesy tune. A few couples made their way onto the dance floor, and Alex noticed two women among them.
“Can I interest you in dessert or an after-dinner drink?” Denis asked as he cleared their plates.
“No dessert for me, though I would like a cup of coffee,” Alex said.
“Make that two.”
“I’ll get that right to you,” Denis promised.
“Take your time.” When Denis walked away, Ricky Lee pushed his chair back to stand and offered Alex his hand. “Would you like to dance?”
Alex looked around the room. No one knew him here, but even if they did, he realized, he wouldn’t care. He wanted to dance with Ricky Lee, and it didn’t matter anymore who might see it.
He rose and took Ricky Lee’s hand. “I’d love to.”
