Page 15 of Wistful in Wyoming
“I don’t lie. Ever. So, know that when I say you’re gorgeous and you make me desperate, I mean it.”
Jeremiah’s emerald eyes darkened with desire, and he licked his lips while staring at Dale’s mouth. Groaning in response, Dale let his hand fall, releasing Jeremiah. “Don’t look at me like that right now, or we’ll never get into dinner, and I want to do this right. That means not boning in the truck before the date even starts.”
Laughing, Jeremiah nodded. “Okay, I promise I’ll try not to drool over you, but it goes both ways, Marine. You can’t look like you want to eat me for dinner and then be surprised when I offer myself up as the main course.”
Chuckling, Dale shook his head and climbed from the truck. He’d intended to open Jeremiah’s door for him, but the man got out and met him at the front of the vehicle before Dale had a chance to walk around to the passenger side. “Next time, I’d like to open your door for you.”
Arching a brow as they made their way across the lot, Jeremiah scoffed, “I don’t think so. This isn’t the fifties, and I’m not the little woman. Open the restaurant door for me, sure, but I’ll get my own damn truck door.”
“We’ll see about that.” Smirking at Jeremiah’s look of disbelief, he held the large wooden door of the steakhouse open for him, boldly resting his hand on the small of Jeremiah’s back as the man proceeded him inside. The heat of his skin through the cotton shirt was hot enough to almost burn Dale’s palm, and his mind immediately went to what it would feel like to have the other man's naked flesh pressed against his own.
Biting back another groan and dropping his hand, Dale kept his eyes glued to Jeremiah’s back as they strode to the hostess stand, not letting his gaze check out the man’s ass cupped in those tight Wranglers. If that happened, Dale would be pitching a tent in his jeans in the middle of the restaurant.
“Do you have a reservation?” a pretty, dark-haired woman asked from behind her wooden podium. Dale didn’t recognize her, so she had to have been hired sometime after he’d moved to the Rock because he used to know everyone who worked there, and they’d known him.
“Yes, for two, under Harris,” he replied, setting his hand firmly on Jeremiah’s back again. He stroked his thumb back and forth and grinned when Jeremiah shivered visibly. His reaction had to be from a combination of Dale’s touch and his nerves about the intimacy of it while in public. Jeremiah’s tense gaze darted around the bar area and restaurant, but no one was paying them any mind. After all, the popular Wagon Wheel was owned by a married lesbian couple who were out and proud. It was one of the reasons he’d chosen to bring Jeremiah there. While there were people in Redworth who refused to patronize the business because of “that couple,” there were plenty more who did, not caring that Lizzie and Janice Wheeler were in love with each other. The food was good and the prices fair, and you couldn’t ask for more than that of a restaurant.
The brunette checked the reservation book, retrieved two menus, and smiled at the couple. “Excellent, I have you in the back, as requested. Please, follow me.”
Jeremiah leaned closer to Dale, whispering in his ear. “As requested?”
“Yes. I wanted privacy for our first date. I know you’re nervous, and I thought it might make it a little easier on you if we weren’t smack in the middle of the room. Plus ... ” he paused, boldly taking Jeremiah’s hand in his own. When Jeremiah stiffened a little but didn’t pull away from him, relief and pride surged through Dale. It was clearly out of Jeremiah’s comfort zone, but he was doing his best to not run out the door in terror. “Being on our first date—I don’t want to be interrupted by other people.”
The gratitude in Jeremiah’s eyes said everything, even as he opened his mouth and closed it several times, unable to voice his thanks. Dale didn’t need to hear the words—they were loud and clear. He tugged on Jeremiah’s hand. “Come on, cowboy, I’m starved.”
Chapter Ten
After they were seatedat a romantic little table, a busboy filled their water glasses and then a young waitress named Diana approached the table. Both workers were wearing the usual Wagon Wheel uniform—black pants, black shoes, a white, button-down shirt, and a cute tie. The owners allowed the waitstaff and bartenders to wear any tie they wanted, as long as they were in fairly good taste, and it was a hit with both their employees and patrons. You never knew what you were going to see because most of the staff collected a bunch of different ones, each person trying to outdo everyone else. While the busboy had on a bright, yellow, smiley-face tie, Diana was wearing a black one with little pink elephants all over it. She did a double take when she noticed Dale. “Good evening, Mr. Harris. It’s nice to see you again. Someone said you moved a while back—I was very sorry to hear that. We miss you around here.”
He grinned at her. “I miss y'all too. But I only moved an hour away—close enough that I could come back to my favorite restaurant whenever I wanted. Diana, this is my date, Jeremiah.” His gaze flickered to the man sitting across from him—the one with an adorable blush and wide eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t expected Dale to introduce him to anyone as his date. As Dale had expected, the waitress didn’t even blink at the announcement—she simply smiled and said hello to Jeremiah before Dale continued the introductions. “Diana’s been working here for about five years now, and if I remember correctly, she should be graduating from college this year.”
A huge grin spread across her face, and her eyes glistened with excitement. “You are correct—next month. Finally. Now I just have to find a job in my field—physical therapy.”
“I’m certain you’ll do just fine, although I’m sure Janice and Lizzie will miss you working here.” He’d have to remember to leave an extra special tip for her tonight in honor of her upcoming graduation.
“I’ll miss them too. They’ve become like family to me. Now, what can I get you two to drink?”
A few moments later, with drinks on the way—a beer for Dale and a glass of whiskey for Jeremiah—Dale sat back and looked his fill. Jeremiah by candlelight was spectacular. The flicking flames highlighted and complemented the different shades of red in his hair and caught on the silver strands, making them shimmer and dance. It was all Dale could do not to lunge across the table and devour the man. Jeremiah’s forearms rested on the edge of the table while his hands twisted the burgundy cloth napkin from his place setting, folding and unfolding it over and over. He must have realized what he was doing because he put the cloth aside but then began fiddling with the napkin ring, twirling it on end and letting it fall. His gaze was pinned on the round, hollow piece of wood.
“Jeremiah.” Dale kept his tone low in volume but firm.
His eyes lifted. “Y-yeah?”
“Relax.”
He scanned the interior of the restaurant, as if he expected an angry mob to jump them at any moment. “I can’t.”
“You need to. I promise, it’s going to be okay. The restaurant is owned by an out-and-proud lesbian couple, and their patrons don’t care. In fact, I doubt we’re the only same-sex couple here tonight.”
Extending his left hand across the snow-white tablecloth, he held it there, palm up, and waited. Jeremiah hesitated, staring at the proffered hand. The pulse in the man’s neck was racing, and his chest heaved with every inhalation. His gaze shifted to the people around them, happily chatting among themselves, before returning to Dale’s invitation. Both apprehension and longing vibrated from Jeremiah’s body—Dale could almost feel his quivering muscles from across the table. He was about to give up and pull back, but just before he did, Jeremiah timidly reached forward and clasped their hands together. Sweat dotted his brow, and his skin was a little pale, but he grinned. The look of relief on his face when there were no public cries of outrage or disgust was so sweet, Dale could feel it in his own gut. This wonderful man was so scared yet wanted to be who he really was without ridicule or repercussions that Dale emotionally, and nearly physically ached for him. He desperately wanted Jeremiah to know what it was like to be free to love whomever he chose.
“There. See? The sky didn’t fall, and a hole didn’t open up under the table and swallow us.” Linking his fingers into Jeremiah’s, he kept them there, holding hands in full view of anyone who cared to look. It was a small step to most, but Dale knew how much this simple gesture meant to Jeremiah. He was making a statement, stepping out of the closet with one giant stride yet praying the safety he found behind the closed door wouldn’t disappear before he was ready.
“I’m proud to be here with you,” Dale assured him. “To have you on my arm, your hand in mine. Don’t forget that.”
Jeremiah’s smile was so wide, Dale swore he could see his molars. “I won’t. And I’m happy to be here with you. Like this.” Jeremiah jiggled their hands slightly. “I never thought I could have this. Thank you.”
“Trust me—it’s no hardship.”
