Heath put in John's order and slipped down the hall to the bathroom. After shutting the door, he leaned against it and took a deep breath. Holy cow! It should be illegal for that man to get any better looking. Heath checked his face in the mirror to make sure he wasn't drooling.
"Ohmigod, he touched me," he practically squealed, but softly, not wanting to alert anyone. He wiggled and danced in a circle for a minute before gathering himself.
Straightening his shirt, he took a deep breath and left the bathroom to see if John's dinner was ready. As he strolled into the kitchen, Mel, his grandmother and the cook eyed him.
"I see that young soldier you've been drooling over has returned."
"Grandma," he protested, glancing over his shoulder toward the dining area, "don't talk too loud. I don't want anyone to hear you."
"Hush, child. No one's going to pay any attention to me." She waved a hand at him. "Where's your guy been?"
"He's not my guy, and he was up north visiting family." He gathered the silverware and reached for the plate of food. "I have to take him his meal before it gets cold."
Mel huffed. "A Yankee, huh? I should've known. You can't ever do anything the easy way, can you, child?"
Heath paused and met her gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right." She snorted. "I've known you all your life, Heath Kane, and I've seen how you look at that boy like he's an ice cream cone you just want to lick."
Heath's mouth dropped open and his mind went blank. There wasn't a comeback for that statement.