Forever (Always & Forever 2)

“Go inside, Doc. I meant it as a compliment.” Landon’s touch and the potential of a compliment had him letting it go for now. His gut told him there was more to that exchange than Landon was letting on, but he was needy enough to let it ride for now.

Holy. Fucking. Hell. Robert moved in front of him, heading to the hostess stand, and Landon’s inner teenage boy jumped into high gear. His gaze traveled straight to Robert’s perfectly round ass. What the scrubs and running gear hid so well was on full display right in front of him in those tailored slacks. His body heated and his mouth watered as he studied the spectacular curve to Robert’s ass. His hands itched to feel the firm globes pressing against his palms. The man was incredible, and what-the-fuck-ever, Robert was chic as shit. Casual? Landon scoffed. Not one fucking morsel of Dr. Robert Adams could be considered casual.

And Landon was apparently cursing a lot. He needed to make sure that stayed in his head.

Thankfully, he had worn his shirt untucked tonight. From the time he’d watched Robert leave the car to when he’d finally gathered enough brain cells to call out to the man, his dick had gone from a level zero to a straight-up hard-as-stone ten, straining against his zipper. How he’d ever kept his dick down in Germany was a testament to the pain he’d been in. Robert Adams was the poster boy for every carnal thought or wet dream he’d ever rubbed out. The guy just did it for him in every single way.

“Hey, Robert.” The hostess’s greeting drew Landon’s gaze up to the woman behind the counter, but she couldn’t keep his attention off more important views as he lowered his eyes again. “I haven’t seen you around in forever.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Robert said good-naturedly. “We have a reservation for two.”

Landon glanced up again, and Robert smiled at him. A flush rushed his cheeks and he quickly averted his gaze.

“We’ve got your table ready. Follow me.”

He trailed behind the two of them, forcing himself to survey the packed restaurant instead of Robert’s ass. He’d never heard of Farmers, but it seemed down-to-earth, in a trendy sort of way. When they stopped, she directed them to a booth close to the bar and kitchen doors, not the primo spot he thought they’d have. It didn’t matter where they sat; he enjoyed being there with the doctor. He scrambled into the seat when Robert extended his hand for him to sit first.

“I’ll tell Lee you’re here,” the hostess said, handing Landon then Robert a menu.

“Don’t bother him. I’ll call him later,” Robert replied in that polite way he had. Landon supposed it was a gentleman’s way, keeping his eyes on the person he spoke to, making sure everyone around him was comfortable and settled before he took care of himself.

Landon understood this wasn’t a date, but his eyes narrowed on Robert’s upturned face as he wondered who this Lee was to Robert and what it might mean that Robert picked this place for their dinner.

“He’ll want to know. He’s been asking if anyone’s heard from you. I’ll get your drinks. What would you like?” she asked.

“What would you like?” Those brilliant blue eyes returned to where Landon wanted them to be, back on him. Robert’s full lips curled into a warm smile.

Instantly, his mind lost focus, and he couldn’t think of one single drink. He rested against the back of the booth as his brain misfired, struggling to come back online. What did he want to drink?

A fucking shot of Patrón. Then another. Then another. Followed by something whiskey related. His nerves were shot. He should have had one before he’d ever left the house.

“Are you drinking tonight?” he finally asked.

“Maybe, is it safe with your arm?” Robert questioned then nodded to his cast resting on the table. Though it wasn’t a full cast, it still ran from wrist to forearm. He’d gotten used to the thing. Kept him from banging his arm around.

“Advil, only every once in a while. I’ll take a Bud Light,” Landon said and forced his gaze away before drool ran down his chin.

“I’ll have the same.” Robert flashed him that mind-dazing smile.

When the hostess left, Landon looked down at the menu, Robert’s penetrating gaze proving to be too much. “What’re you getting?”

“I really like the Spaghetti Squash Pomodoro,” Robert replied.

Landon scanned the menu; he was having a hard time deciding, because he missed one word out of every three he read, thinking about how overwhelmed he was. “Hmmm.”

Robert chuckled at him, and Landon stilled his heart before lifting his eyes. “I know that sound. I hear the New York strip and enchiladas are excellent. Lee’s a master chef, amazing. Very much like my father in the way he cares for the food he’s making.”