“In some ways I do, she had a lighter complexion and naturally blond hair. She was a little thing, people thought we were twins when we were younger, but our differences were more pronounced the older we got. Hunter looks more like his dad while Emalynn looks just like my sister. I have pictures of Lynn when she was little. You can’t tell them apart except my sister was blonder than Em,” Trent said.
“You’re a lucky man. The children are great,” Gage said.
“I feel lucky most of the time, and I’m glad to be here with you, tonight. I’m glad it worked out. I was afraid you weren’t gonna show. My last date met the kids the night before we were to go out and then he didn’t show. Well, we planned for me to pick him up, but he wasn’t home when I got there. They can be a handful. Hunter’s at the age where he’s picking at Em a lot. It can be a lot to handle. I think Em’s about to start the why phase. Why is the grass green? Why is the sky blue? Everything is why,” Trent said, abruptly stopping in mid-sentence once he realized what he just rambled on about. He’d talked to himself about keeping the kids out of any conversations tonight. They were on a date, no one wanted to be dragged down by more of his children’s stories or his past dating debacles. Trent stopped the flow of words, and sat back in his chair, taking his wine glass with him. He kept his hand linked with Gage’s, but looked out into the night, staying silent, not sure how to recover the conversation.
“My nieces and nephews all went through that stage. The oldest has to be ten now. The youngest must be two. There are eight of them. They’re a loud mess when they get together. My brothers and sisters are a fertile bunch. I’ve watched them during our family holidays and always thought I would rather take a month in Haiti before I could imagine raising a child in today’s world. But now, I have to admit, you make the job look very appealing,” Gage said.
The compliment startled him, and he shifted his eyes immediately back to Gage, trying to figure out what it meant. He knew what it sounded like it meant, but surely not…The waiter interrupted them again. “Your dinner, Mr. Synclair.”
The waiter never acknowledged Trent, but placed the plates in front of him. There were two large plates filled with food and his stomach let out an approving growl.
“Good, you’re hungry. I thought you might be. I didn’t see you take lunch today,” Gage said and brought their joined hands back to his lips for another kiss, before he let go.
“Is there anything more I can get you?” Gage looked over at Trent first, then back to the waiter who had become distantly polite and nothing more than professional.
“Perhaps another bottle of wine, but Nothing more, we’re fine.” The waiter reached for the bottle of wine, but Gage beat him to it, and topped off Trent’s wine glass before they began to eat. Trent almost felt sorry for the guy as he retreated. His eyes stayed on Gage, and Gage never seemed to notice.
The dinner amazed, exactly as Gage promised. The meat seemed some sort of pork, slow cooked with lots of care. There were pasta dishes, salads, vegetables, the plates never stopped coming and their conversation never waned. They spoke of Gage’s job, of his travels, and of which special reports Trent liked the most. At some point during the meal they removed their jackets and became more comfortable at the table. The conversations flowed naturally between them with no lulls as they sat and ate.
“I should be paying for my dinner,” Trent said, taking his last bite.
“Handsome, I should be paying you for being such good company,” Gage said. The waiter walked up at that moment, knowing instinctively when he could remove their plates. Gage kept the wine close by, topping off Trent’s glass every so often throughout the meal and again before he relaxed back in his seat, reaching for Trent’s hand once again. This time the caress became more finger play than actual hand holding. Gage ran his fingers through Trent’s, extending each one, while constantly running his thumb up and down his palm.
“Your babysitter isn’t on a time restriction tonight, is she?” Gage asked.
“No, Sophia’s spending the night, but Rhonny will be home by eleven at the latest, if she wanted to leave,” Trent said and looked out into the night, then around the room. They were alone, and Trent had no idea what time it was. “I guess it’s close to ten now.”
“I think so. Actually close to eleven by my watch,” Gage said.
“Really?” Trent asked, surprised, and arching his brow. Gage was so comfortable to be around that he’d lost all track of time.
“Mmmm… the night has flown by. You’re good company,” Gage said.
“Thanks, but I’m afraid that’s you. You have such an interesting life. There’s so much to talk about,” Trent said.
“Those are my thoughts on you.” Gage’s wide smile lit his whole face. “So tell me, this dating rule you started… I suppose it means no sex on the first date,” Gage asked, staring at him as he spoke.
“In theory, it does,” Trent said, his eyes never left Gage’s, but his heart did pick up a slight beat. He wanted nothing more than to end this evening having sex with Gage Synclair.
“I’ve told you, I find I want to follow your rules. Give you the kind of a relationship you want, but a thought occurred to me a little while go,” Gage said, but Trent interrupted him.
“Gage… I appreciate this effort, I do, but you don’t have to say things like that. It’s all right…” Trent’s gaze never wavered from Gage. He simply lifted his hand, silencing Trent.
“My thought,” Gage said, lifting an eyebrow, picking up exactly where Trent interrupted him. “This should technically be considered our second date. I do believe you invited me to McDonald’s last night. I accepted and we went, so in my book, it was a date. So my question to you now, wouldn’t this be our second date?”