The One That Got Away (7 page)

David shivered again. Cheesecake and a seductive Trace were more than his system could handle. Unable to tear his eyes away from the chocolate gaze, he swallowed audibly, nodding because he didn’t trust his voice.

“Oh yeah, baby,” Trace crooned, leaning closer. “You are going to all three restaurants with me. I’ll make sure you eat. And you’ll love every… 
single… succulent… moment of it.”

“Enough, Trace. I’ll go. Now go sit down like a good little straight boy before I jump you,” David warned, his tone teasing.

Trace grinned and leaned just enough to quickly kiss the very tip of David’s nose before standing up and moving back to the other side of the table, water bottle in hand. He sat down, smug, looking very pleased with himself. And he was: This meant that not only would he have David’s wonderful company instead of nervous waiters, but he’d only have to eat half as much food! Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

DAVID looked at himself in the mirror. His black linen pants were drawn up over his hips but not fastened. He’d gotten his T-shirt on and his shirt 
over his shoulders. Of course, the buttons weren’t done. Well, he was as ready as he was going to get. Taking a deep breath, he called, “Oh, Trace, I need my valet!” He heard a bark of laughter from the bathroom, and, rolling his eyes, David fixed his glare on the bathroom door so that Trace would feel its full impact when he walked through. The glare and his breathing faltered when Trace appeared.
Fuck!
Trace was good-looking at his worst, but dressed to kill, he was breathtaking. Unable to form a coherent comment, he just stared as his friend walked toward him.

Trace had broken out more than the run-of-the-mill everyday dress clothes, choosing a silvery-gray suit of lighter material that emphasized the long, lean lines of his body, and his hair was loose and on his shoulders, styled in that popular windblown look, held into place with judicious use of mousse. He’d even shaved.

Looking over at David, Trace raised a brow. “Oh master, I heed thy summons,” he said with a chuckle. David’s glare didn’t faze Trace one bit; he’d seen it before and would see it again, he was sure. He sauntered over and stopped in front of him, starting to button his shirt from the top down, smoothing the fine white fabric as he went. It was hard to miss the lightly muscled body underneath, and Trace was quietly appreciative. He knew it took a lot to stay in shape. He tucked the shirttails into David’s slacks, hands coasting over his hips to make sure the material didn’t bunch. Trace looked up as he pulled the pants up slightly and folded the placket together, and he noticed the odd look on David’s face. “What’s up? You look like you forgot something,” he said as he buttoned the trousers.

Yeah, my brain,
the blond thought. What had possessed him to think that Trace moving in with him while he recovered was a good idea? Of course, Trace hadn’t really given him a choice in the matter. The corners of his mouth drew up slightly at how pigheaded his friend could be. David bit his cheek, willing his body to behave as the brunet’s hands skimmed his body. He really needed to get laid, but couldn’t see having a 
conversation with Trace about needing a night alone when Trace had done so much for him. He was quite sure, though, that his thoroughly straight friend wasn’t going to want to do what he really needed at the moment.

Shaking his head, he looked down and watched as Trace’s long, blunt fingers buttoned, zipped, and buckled him up.

“There you go,” Trace said as he slid his hand along David’s belly to make sure the shirt lay down properly. That flat belly was another sign of how much David worked out. He lifted his hands to fasten the top button under his chin. “Wearing a tie?” he asked. His own was the same silver as the suit, and it caught the light when he moved.

“Yeah. If you’re gonna button me up like a priest, I’d better.”

Trace chuckled. “You can go without one; no one’s going to say anything. Will look nicer if your gossip columnist catches us, though. Did you know Matt’s been haunting the high-class places for Katherine’s celebrity column? He got a shot of me last night talking with the deputy mayor and her husband. I hope he doesn’t use it or at least crops me out. I probably looked like shit after twelve hours on the job.”

“Fine. Just for you, I’ll try and look my best,” David teased, looking up at Trace coyly through lowered eyelashes.

With an appraising look, Trace stepped back and deliberately looked David up and down. There was no doubt, David was a fine-looking man.

Trace supposed he had no problem finding companionship—male or female—when he went out. “Well, I’m no expert—about men, anyway—
but you look incredible to me,” he admitted as he tilted his head and started to fix the tie David laid over his shoulder. Eyes sparkling playfully, he stepped to one side to peek at David’s ass.

The comment was the ice water David needed to get his rampaging libido under control. Trace wasn’t gay, and David hadn’t actively lusted after straight men in almost two decades—too frustrating. “Thank you,” he 
said, slipping the sling over the top of his suit coat and fiddling with the strap to lengthen it to accommodate the extra bulk. “I don’t suppose you’d let me out without the leash just for one night?”

Stepping back to let David move, Trace slid one hand into a pocket.

David had stiffened a bit, and Trace realized maybe he’d teased a little too much. He’d have to pick it apart in his head later to try to figure it out. As for the sling…. “I won’t give you grief about it, not tonight. I’m just afraid you’ll be hurting if you don’t wear it,” he said quietly.

David smiled at the thought of a few hours without the frustrating contraption. “How about a compromise? I’ll take it, leave it in the car, and if I get to hurting, I’ll even let you go get it for me.”

Trace chuckled. “I suppose I can live with that.” He shrugged into his jacket and glanced at his watch. “Ready to go? We’ve got half an hour to get to the restaurant.”

Pulling aside his suit coat to slip his wallet into his back pocket, and his money clip and a small tin of mints into his front pocket, David motioned to the door. “All set. After you.”

DAVID gritted his teeth. The hostess at San Angelo hadn’t stopped flirting, fawning and gushing over Trace since they walked in the door.

She currently had her hand wrapped around the restaurant critic’s bicep, squeezing like she was testing the condition of the body beneath the expensive suit. Judging by her smile, she liked what she’d found. The blond was beginning to wonder if sex with the staff was included in the overall rating of a restaurant at the
Sun-Herald
. He was so caught up in his inner grumbling that he reached to pull out the heavy mahogany chair with 
his right hand without thinking, yanking it back from the table and unable to completely stifle the cry of pain.

Trace’s head shot around, and he was at David’s side in an instant, leaving the hostess gaping. “David, what did you do?” he asked, looking at how the other man was cradling his arm to prop up his shoulder.

David stared at a fixed point, trying to keep his balance as the room swayed. “Just stupidity. How ’bout being a gentleman and pulling out my chair for me? I don’t seem to be capable of it at the moment.”

Concerned, Trace did so, totally unaware of the hostess and wait staff staring. Once David was seated, he asked, “Okay?” and when David nodded, he pushed the chair in some. “You can probably prop your elbow on that armrest,” he suggested, moving to the chair across the two-person table.

David watched the befuddled young woman hover with two heavy leather-bound menus and an even bigger wine list, backed up by two nervous-looking servers. “I’m fine. Just give me a sec,” he whispered. “Do something about her hovering, will you? I feel like a wounded gazelle being eyed by a leopard.”

Trace accepted the menus and the wine list and made a blatant shooing motion at the wait staff. Scared to death of damaging his opinion, they all vamoosed. He set down the menus on the table, one in front of each of them, and looked at David with concern.

“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, and it transformed his whole face. “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 made his decision, closed his menu, and laid it to the side. “I’m having seafood.”

Trace’s voice was serious and low after watching David’s face. “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 then he’d be looking for good gossip.

“I’m not worried about it, David,” Trace said. “How about this? 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 there’s a concern that he might put something out there about me. Especially since I work at a rival paper?”

“I can promise he’ll be honest, but he only contributes the pictures.

Katherine’s the one that 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, and 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. “Why didn’t she win? I know Miranda doesn’t make as much money as she does,” he said, speaking of the well-known event planner in town who had won the bid for him.

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 was hootin’ and hollerin’ while I was up there, trying to embarrass me. Who helped you?”

“Well, actually, Matt and the new kid from sports. 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.

Shaking his head, Trace just 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.”

Trace’s eyes bulged, and he leaned back, jaw dropping. “You’re
joking
!”

David’s laughter got worse with the expression on Trace’s face, tears filling his eyes. “No.”

Just then the couple was interrupted by the appearance of the photographer, his companion looking over from their table. “David, you should wait for dinner to arrive before hitting the really hard spirits,” Matt teased, smiling indulgently at the reporter trying 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, the image of Katherine’s face on a spider’s body with Trace caught firmly in her web floating through his mind.

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 good-humoredly.

Trace shook Matt’s hand, still aghast. “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 the photographer’s face. “Oh.” He snickered, purposefully not looking at David to keep it 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 again. “Sorry. He just asked about Katherine, and, God! Do you remember the look on her face when she lost?” The laughter started again.

Matt smiled down at the blond indulgently. “Yeah, but you’re sharing secrets with the enemy.” He cuffed David’s shoulder lightly, causing him to wince.