“I’m good,” he told Brantley, forcing himself to believe it.
Reese opened the menu, scanned the selection. He could feel Brantley’s eyes on him, but thankfully, he didn’t say anything. A few minutes passed, the waiter returned, they placed their orders, Reese added an appetizer. And then they were left in peace.
“Focus on me,” Brantley said softly. “Forget everyone else in this place.”
Reese nodded. It wouldn’t be too difficult considering his back was to the room. That and he happened to enjoy looking at Brantley. If he forgot the fact they were in a restaurant full of people, it would’ve been ideal. He’d had dinner with Brantley many times. Both as friends back in the beginning and at Brantley’s house in a more intimate setting.
So why couldn’t he settle now? What was it about this setting that left him … well, unsettled?
***
It was safe to say this would likely be their first and last date.
Brantley could see by the sweat beading on Reese’s brow that it was taking everything in him to get through this meal.
And they hadn’t even gotten their food yet.
“I’ll be right back,” he told Reese, getting to his feet and heading over to where their waiter stood near the drink station, waiting for a table to tend to. “Excuse me.”
“Yes?” the man said, eyes wide, a hint of fear glittering there. Clearly he thought he’d somehow done something wrong.
“My friend … he’s not feelin’ well. I’d like to ask for our food to go.”
The waiter nodded.
“Here’s my credit card,” he said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “Add something for dessert. Whatever you suggest.”
“Yes, sir. Gladly.”
Brantley returned to the table to find Reese with his head in his hands, staring down at the tablecloth.
Clearing his throat, he took a seat. “You okay?”
“I will be.”
Yeah, Brantley seriously doubted that. But if he had anything to say about it, they’d get back on track soon. Although he didn’t claim to know what Reese was going through, he knew it was natural. For many, being gay meant remaining in the closet. Sometimes because they were nervous about what others would think, sometimes because they knew what others would think. Sure, there were communities that encouraged open and proud lifestyles, but those were few and far between.
He’d been out with a handful of guys in his time, mostly going to sports bars. But this didn’t feel at all awkward to him. Then again, he didn’t much give a damn what people saw when they looked his way. Brantley’d never been the sort to flaunt his sexuality, but he wasn’t ashamed of who he was, nor was he concerned what others thought about him.
Didn’t mean Reese was going to feel the same or that Brantley could even fathom what this felt like to him. The guy was going out on his first date with a man. That alone probably had his stomach twisted in knots. He damn sure wasn’t going to hold it against Reese, either.
“Shoulda gone the Tex-Mex route,” he said, reaching for his water, “got a couple margaritas down you. You’d liven up the party.”
“I really am sorry,” Reese said, his voice so low Brantley only heard because he was sitting so close.
“Don’t apologize. I’ve got a plan.”
Reese’s forehead creased in a frown. “What?”
“We’re takin’ our meal to go.”
Reese’s back straightened, his eyes narrowed. “That’s not necessary.”
“Maybe not, but it’s how I want it.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You really wanna argue with me here?”
“Brantley…”
“Done deal.” He nodded in the direction of the waiter, who was carrying two large paper sacks their way.
Brantley took the check, signed the receipt, added a generous tip, then pocketed his credit card.
“Come on. We’ve got somewhere to be.”
He could tell Reese wanted to argue on sheer principle, but underneath, he could sense his relief.
They grabbed their hats, had the valet bring the truck around, but before Reese could take the wheel, Brantley grabbed the keys and made his way to the driver’s side. He deposited the food bags in the backseat, and a minute later, he was heading out of downtown Austin, back toward Coyote Ridge.
By the time he made it back to his house, he knew Reese was preparing an argument. Rather than let him, he ordered the man to go around to the back, take a seat at the patio table.
The night could be salvaged. Just because Reese wasn’t ready to be seen out in public with him didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy their time together. Brantley would simply have to make some adjustments. And he would. For Reese.
Inside the house, Brantley dished everything onto plates, tucked the cheesecake in the refrigerator for later, added real silverware, snagged some napkins, and carried it out. After he set everything on the table, he returned, grabbed a couple of beers before sitting down to enjoy their meal.
