“Quit staring.” David glanced up from the menu that lay open in front of him. “I just wasn’t thinking and grabbed the chair. Give me a second, and I’ll be fine. Now, what do I need to order or do you want to order for me too? After pulling out my chair, we could really get some rumors flying.” David glanced up coyly and fluttered his eyelashes.
Trace blinked and smiled at David’s good mood. “Order whatever you like. I’ll get different things so we have a selection.” He toyed with the wine list. “Rumors, huh? About you or about me?” he asked, lips twitching. “I’m sure it won’t be long before someone recognizes you and wonders why we’re out together.”
“Yeah. Lloyd’ll give me hell. As for rumors, it is far more fun to speculate about a couple than an individual, and I was only half-joking. If it’ll bother you, we need to make sure we present the proper ‘friends out on the town comparing conquests’ front.” David closed his menu and laid it to the side. “I’m having seafood.”
Trace supposed the chance of rumors wasn’t so unbelievable. He took a few moments to muse over that, but he decided it didn’t bother him. They were best friends. Rumors of romance wouldn’t change it; he didn’t feel uncomfortable at all around David. He’d never felt uncomfortable before, so there was no reason for that to change.
Trace’s voice was serious and low when he spoke. “It doesn’t bother me, David. Not at all. I’m out with a hell of a good-looking man. Why should I complain?” Trace closed his menu. “I’ll have the mixed grill.”
“You might want to reconsider. Matt just walked in the door with that young freelance photographer who’s been hot lately. Being paired with a man, no matter how good-looking, can put a serious crimp in your ability to attract women,” David warned, opening the wine list and doing his best to ignore the two men being seated three tables away. It wasn’t that he had anything against Matt. They were actually good friends. The man took beautiful pictures, but he did have a tendency to take everything to an extreme. And if he was filling in as a photographer for Katherine’s gossip column, he’d be looking for good gossip.
“I’m not worried about it,” Trace said. The thought of being paired with David didn’t cause any internal conflict other than a warm feeling that he could possibly attribute to amusement and definitely associate to their close friendship. Now, that being said, it did occur to Trace that while taking care of David, helping him up off the bathroom floor that time, doing up his dress pants, and buttoning the fly of David’s close-fitting jeans, he simply hadn’t applied the thought of David’s fetching appearance in any terms to himself. Until now.
“How about this?” Trace suggested. “If it gets to be a problem, I’ll call up a couple or three gorgeous girlfriends of mine and go to some high-profile event, okay? Aren’t you concerned about your own reputation?”
David shrugged. “Let’s just say that Matt is aware of my orientation, and I trust him not to do anything to hurt me.”
Trace nodded slowly. “So that’s why you’re concerned that he might put something out there about me. Especially since I work at the Herald?”
“I can promise he’ll be honest, but he only contributes the pictures. Katherine’s the one who will add the words. I personally think the rivalry is crap. This area is by far big enough to support two dailies, but….” David shrugged again. “You know how it is. I also know that Katherine bid on you and lost at the hospital benefit last year. She didn’t lose gracefully.”
“Mmmm, I forgot about that,” Trace admitted, remembering the fuss.
They were interrupted as the waiter arrived to take their orders, obviously having been told to be ultra-attentive and polite. Finally he left as another server arrived with before-dinner drinks and ice water. Once they were left in relative peace, Trace picked up the discussion again. “So, why didn’t she win?”
David smirked. “Well, let’s say she had been a cocky bitch all week about wanting you, and a few of us might have decided to distract her at a key moment.”
Trace’s brows rose in disbelief. “You did what? Most of the crew from your paper were hootin’ and hollerin’ while I was up there, trying to embarrass me. Who helped you?”
“Well, actually, Matt and the sports editor, Chad. We were pretty drunk and feeling devious.” David grinned, his eyes turning soft and crinkling around the corners at the memory. It had been a fun night. Trace’s hadn’t been the only auction they’d influenced. They’d given Keri Carter from copy a thousand dollars to bid on Bill Winchell, and those two were still dating.
It had been a fun night, Trace remembered. Shaking his head, he smiled at the man across the table. “You are a true friend. I shudder to think what Katherine would have wanted.”
“Ha!” David barked. “I can tell you exactly what she would have wanted. Her business is rumors, and she’d heard exactly how good you are with that tongue of yours.”
Oh my fucking God! Trace’s eyes bulged and he leaned back, jaw dropping. “You’re joking!”
David’s laughter got worse when he saw the expression on Trace’s face, and tears of mirth filled his eyes. “No.”
Just then the couple was interrupted by Matt’s amiable appearance at their table, his companion left behind at his table. “David, you should wait for dinner to arrive before hitting the really hard spirits,” Matt teased, smiling indulgently while David tried valiantly to quit laughing.
“Sorry,” David gasped, his shoulders still shaking. He brushed the tears away from his eyes. “I just…. Well, Trace….” He broke into a new gale of laughter.
Matt turned to Trace and extended his hand. “I guess I’ll try talking to you. He doesn’t seem too coherent. If part of your game plan is getting him drunk, I’d say you are well on your way,” he added in good humor. “I’m Matt Hardwick.”
Trace shook Matt’s hand, still aghast. “Trace Jackson. I might have to cut him off if he keeps sharing things I certainly don’t want to hear. Dear God. I had no idea Katherine would hear about something like that!”
Understanding bloomed on Matt’s face. “Oh.” He snickered, not looking at David as he tried to keep his amusement under control. “Yeah, you should never underestimate Katherine.” Finally turning to David, he said, “What have you been telling him?”
Hiccupping, David tried to pull himself together. “Sorry. He just asked about Katherine, and… God! I keep seeing this image of Katherine’s face on a spider’s body with Trace caught firmly in her web… do you remember the look on her face when she lost?” The laughter started again.
Matt smiled and laughed along. “Yeah, that was classic. So, are you sharing secrets with the enemy?” He cuffed David’s shoulder lightly, inadvertently causing David to wince and jerk away into the high back of the chair, which was even worse.
“Be careful,” Trace warned. “David… hurt his shoulder,” he said, not sure what Lloyd might have told the other employees.
Matt’s smile faded with concern. “I’m sorry,” he said, but then the smirk was back, and his serious tone turned teasing again as he added, “I’ve warned you about wrenching around when you’re handcuffed to the bed.”
“Fucker!” David shot back, eyes crinkling as he struck out at Matt with his good arm. “Go back to your boy toy and leave us men alone.”
Trace covered his mouth one-handed, his elbow on the table, stifling the spate of laughter he’d been half-choking on since David’s description of Katherine. He considered admitting that he’d thought about something along those lines—tying David down to keep him in the damn bed to give his shoulder a rest—but he was sure that would definitely come out sounding wrong. And Matt had a boy toy? Trace glanced over at the younger man, who looked like he should be a model, and back to Matt, raising a brow in question.
Matt leaned low, whispering something in David’s ear that made his eyes lower and his cheeks bloom with color. With a careful pat of David’s back, Matt moved away, glancing back at their table once speculatively.
“Oh
, I’m never going to hear the end of this one,” David predicted, lifting his glass of water to his lips.
Eyebrow still raised, Trace sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Do I even want to know?” he asked as he lifted his drink.
“Probably not,” David confirmed. “Matt and I go way back, and not all of that history would be suitable for polite conversation.”
Trace snorted. “And my tongue is polite conversation?” He rolled his eyes as the waiter appeared with fresh salads and their appetizer.
David lifted his fork, still awkward with his left hand. “Let’s just say this history includes some moments of an intimate nature that would include body parts you usually don’t deal with outside of your own shower.” As soon as he said the words, images of Trace naked and soapy ran through his mind, taking the edge off his physical hunger, but raising a hunger of an entirely different kind.
“Gotcha,” Trace said. He picked up a crostino topped with tomato and cheese and tilted his head to pop the bite-size morsel in his mouth. “Mmmm. This gets an A,” he said while chewing happily.
“You are entirely too easy to please for a restaurant critic.” David chuckled.
“I’ll have you know, my average review is two and a quarter stars out of four,” Trace said archly, smiling smugly when the manager who had been approaching the table blanched and scurried away.
David snorted, shaking his head. “You just gave that man nightmares.”
Trace raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Maybe they’ll triple-check the food, then.” He smiled, leaning back and lifting his drink. “To a wonderful first dinner,” he toasted.
Something warm settled in David’s belly that had nothing to do with the wine. Raising his glass, he touched Trace’s with a delicate clink. “If I forget to tell you later—thank you.” David’s blue eyes stayed locked with Trace’s as he drank slowly, his tongue peeking out to touch the edge of the glass before pulling the wine into his mouth.
A slow tingle flowed through Trace as he watched David take the sip of wine, and he blinked several times, trying to recognize it before it was gone. Was all the teasing making him think about things—about David—in a way he normally wouldn’t? David’s eyes—had he ever noticed they were so blue and flecked with gold? He swallowed his wine and dropped his eyes, feeling a tinge of heat in his cheeks.
Trace took a couple of small bites of the salad and pushed it aside, dismissing it as standard fare, and instead nipped another crostino from the plate. He didn’t know why he felt nervous all of a sudden. This was David, his best friend of a few years now. Finally, it occurred to him. He had just realized that he actually saw David as a handsome man, not just as his best friend who happened to be a guy who happened to look good. “You’re welcome,” he said quietly, glancing up at David, finding that he was still struck by how the light from the small flickering candle transformed David’s eyes.
Snagging the last of the crostini from the plate, David grinned as the sharp taste of plum tomatoes and garlic exploded in his mouth. “God, tell me that when I’m cursing you later. Do we have Alka-Seltzer at home?”
Chuckling, Trace nodded. “Yeah, I had some last night.” He relaxed again with the easy comment, and it was easy to smile now. “So you think you might be able to suffer through the rest of the night?”
David’s reply was stalled by the arrival of a tray of steaming, aromatic food, David shot an amused glance at Trace when the manager personally served their dinner. As Trace dismissed the fawning man gracefully, David rolled his eyes and said, “It’ll be rough, but I think I’ll manage.”
Chapter 6
TRACE DROVE along the winding lane that led back into town, his long hair ruffled by the wind. Keeping the top down had been an excellent idea, even if they’d had to spike the heat to stay comfortable. They were heading home from the exclusive French restaurant they’d visited to end the evening, and this time, he was pleasantly full, not ill like the previous night.
They had just dined at La Vie en Rose, outside on a terrace, the table furnished with china, silver, crystal, and linen—definitely a very romantic atmosphere—and the food had been unbelievable. Even to his experienced tastes. Totally worth his ultra-rare four-star designation.
Trace felt no shame at all in pressing David to share his opinions about the food. He glanced over at the man in the passenger seat. “So what’d you think about that one?”
David’s head rolled lethargically to the side so he could see Trace. “Definitely a ‘sure thing’ kind of place.”
A huge grin split Trace’s face, and he tried to bite his tongue. But it was so easy. “You telling me you’re a sure thing?”
“Trace, if I thought you had any inclination, I’d let you fuck me through the mattress,” David murmured in a sleepy, sated voice, his eyes already closed, the wind whipping through his short hair as he drifted off to sleep, lulled by the rich food, good wine, and steady vibration of the convertible.
Trace froze with both hands on the steering wheel, looking straight out at the road. But he wasn’t seeing it. His mind exploded with visions of what David had just said, and he had to swallow hard and blink to make sure he was watching where he was driving. What the…?
He chanced a look in David’s direction and let out a long, shaky breath. After the first meal, when he’d met Matt—perhaps stemming from the totally not-for-polite-company conversation about his tongue—the evening had been rife with a simmering tension Trace had never felt around David before. And he had enjoyed it. He shifted in the seat uncomfortably, and a few moments after the fact he realized why. He was aroused. Terribly, undeniably aroused by the images David’s words had evoked. He dragged a hand through his hair, some odd sort of panic welling in his throat. His hand moved to cover his mouth as he choked on a scared laugh. What the hell?
With time, the grace of God, and sheer willpower, Trace calmed just as he pulled into David’s driveway. Common sense had taken over. David was exhausted and probably more than a little drunk—and on painkillers to boot. Drugs make you do and say crazy things, right? And the concepts had at least already been in Trace’s own mind after that meet-up with Matt. Perhaps David was just free-associating, but… he’d made it clear he knew who he was talking to. But David knew Trace was straight and happy that way, so surely it was just a flip, throwaway comment between friends, meant to be funny, meant to be a joke they could laugh over later. Trace sighed and open the car door, dropping one leg out and leaning back in his seat to look up at the starry sky.
If the idea bothered him this much, it looked like he had quite a bit of thinking to do. Trace wasn’t one for hiding things from himself, and he never lied to himself.
Fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel, after a bit Trace shifted to spend quite a few minutes just looking at David, studying him like he’d never thought to before. Admittedly, he hadn’t been kidding when he made his claim about being out with a hell of a good-looking man. Trace had no problem saying which men looked better than others, in his opinion. The more he thought about it, he wondered how much his opinions had been unconsciously formed with David as the benchmark.
Finally Trace reached over, intending to shake David’s arm, but instead his fingers moved to the soft blond hair, and he petted it on purpose, just to feel—not to make a point, not to give comfort, but just because he wanted to. After more than a few heartbeats he drew back, blinking in confusion. David wouldn’t appreciate that, would he? Still curious, Trace reached out again to comb his fingers through the wind-ruffled hair again, wondering if it would wake him.
David’s head turned on the headrest, pressing into the gentle touch without waking. His lashes fluttered momentarily before he settled back into sleep, his lips parting as his jaw relaxed. Trace leaned sideways against his seat, head pillowed against the leather as he gazed across the two feet to his hand sliding through golden hair, and he smiled softly as David relaxed. To be so trusted, it was something special, he knew. He sighed, carefully
pulling his hand away and touching his friend’s lower arm. “David,” he said quietly. “We’re home.”
David’s mind reluctantly emerged from sleep. Someone is stroking my hair. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed such a simple, intimate touch. He was loath to open his eyes and have it end. He could smell the subtle tang of Trace’s cologne and the combination of scent and touch made his pulse pick up. He slowly opened his eyes, adding the image of his friend’s beautiful face, lit by moonlight, to his fantasy. David held his breath, caught in the magnetic pull of the moment.
Clear blue eyes opened, and Trace felt a flutter in his chest, one he didn’t recognize but somehow knew was important. The corner of his mouth turned up. “Wake up, sleeping beauty. We’re home,” he said softly.
For a moment, still foggy with good food, good wine, and the warmth of Trace’s touch, David let himself hear the words as a lover would say them. Home. Not David’s home, but theirs. A place of love. A promise of making love once they were safely ensconced in the privacy of their bedroom. A tight burning knot formed in his stomach as he imagined Trace’s eyes turned to melted chocolate by arousal and love.
Swallowing and licking his lips to ease the dryness, David straightened and tried to shake off the appealing vision. “Yeah. My shoulder hurts. Probably should pop some more pills and go to bed,” he murmured, the words a reminder to himself of why Trace was here.
Trace seemed to pause a few moments before pulling his fingers away, leaving David immediately missing the warmth. “Let’s go, then,” he murmured.
David recognized that he didn’t want to move away, but he shifted out of his seat to stand regardless. Now wasn’t the time to go exploring crazy feelings inspired by an oddly romantic night out with his best friend. He shook himself slightly and closed the car door.
Dreamspinner Press Year Three Greatest Hits Page 117