"Nah, Vinnie," he answered, his smile growing when he realized Vincent was only a couple inches shorter than he was himself. Six foot one, maybe six-two. A good height. Just about perfect, really. "You were busy. The guys didn't want to bother you. They're gonna be back in a couple days, anyway."

"Mmmmmm, but will you, stud-muffin? Because..." Then Vincent bit his lip, and Travis moaned, soft and low and deep in his throat. "Maybe I'm not going as far out on the gangplank as I thought," Vincent muttered before staring into Travis' eyes again, which Travis was unexpectedly fine with.

"Okay, here's the thing, stud," Vinnie said after a moment, his gaze bold but somehow nervous, too, to Travis' mind. "I think I like you. A lot. And I never do this. I don't hit on customers. Not seriously, anyway. It's just sort of what people expect now. I was the maitre d' here for years before I became the general manager and a partner with the owners. So it's become a tradition, of sorts. The big, swishy queen who acts suggestive but doesn't mean it, you know?"

Travis didn't know. Didn't even really get what Vinnie's words meant. He only knew that the man sounded bitter underneath all that charm and good humor. Even so, he nodded. "Okay."

"But I like you. By which I mean I really like you. So far." Vincent blushed just a little bit, and it was so damned cool. "So I was thinking. Maybe we could go out some time. Have dinner. Catch a movie. Tip some cows, shoot a deer... whatever it is you like to do. I just. I like you."

And damn. Just damn. That sounded pretty good, Travis realized. Aside from the deer-shooting, because he hadn't fired a gun since he'd been discharged, and if he never did again, it would be too fucking soon. He still kept a rifle at his place, but he hadn't had any call to use it. Other than that, though, he could definitely get into spending some time with Vincent. He could imagine sitting across a table from the guy, seeing him in something less formal than the suit Vincent was wearing. He could picture how that so-blond hair would look out of its braid, flowing free around the man's face.

Hell, he could nearly feel those long, silky strands wrapped around his fingers while he slid his cock slowly between those full red lips, Vincent's eyes wide and wanton and staring up at him and Travis really needed to think about something else, but Jesus fuck, it was already too late. He was hard again. And Vincent hadn't said anything about sex, which just made Travis feel like the biggest pervert ever.