Zayne bit back a laugh because, hell, Ethan wasn’t lying, and a ménage à trois had never felt more appropriate than it did right now.
“Then you’ve come to the right place. Do you have a reservation?”
“We do, yes. It’s under Holt. Ethan Holt.”
“Ah yes, I see it. You’re lucky—there was a last-minute cancellation.”
“Seems like fate wanted us here, then.”
“Seems like it. You’re in the lounge tonight.” She grabbed a couple of menus and stepped out from behind her stand. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your booth.”
They followed the hostess from the brightly lit entrance into a section of the restaurant where the muted lighting gave things a definite mood. It was an intimate space, with booths lining the wood-paneled walls, and low chairs with high backs that sank down and offered the kind of privacy they appreciated. A dividing wall separated two sections of the restaurant, and over in the main dining room, Zayne spotted the bar.
“This is you,” the hostess said as she came to a stop by an empty booth.
He went to slide in on one side when he heard, “Zayne. I want you closer than that.”
The woman lowered her head and looked off to the side, clearly not sure if she should be part of this conversation. But Ethan knew exactly what he was doing, because her hearing that Ethan wanted him had just made Zayne’s dick hard as a fucking rock.
He slid into the booth by Ethan, who followed, making sure they were close enough that their thighs touched.
Jesus Christ. Ethan was in one of those moods tonight, and Zayne was here for it.
The woman cleared her throat and handed them each a menu.
“Tonight’s specials are the award-winning seared duck breast with cherries and port sauce, and the highland farm venison with blackcurrants, quince, cured foie ‘copeaux’ parsnip, and ‘sauce poivrade.’ Someone will be over to take your order soon.”
“Merci,” Ethan said, smooth as you fucking please, and the young lady all but melted right before their very eyes.
“Je vous en prie.”
As she hurried off, Ethan turned to Zayne, who said, “You tryin’ to drive me crazy?”
Ethan’s lips tugged up at the corner, making Zayne’s balls tingle. “Not yet. But this black suit on you is more tempting than I anticipated.”
Zayne chuckled and looked down at the menu. “That a compliment or an insult?”
“What do you think?” Ethan’s hand crept under the table and between his legs. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you in a suit.”
“That’s because they’re too restrictive. My dick gets claustrophobic.”
Ethan curled his fingers around Zayne’s erection and squeezed. “So I see.”
“Fuck. If you want to stay here long enough to find Chloé, you need to stop teasing my cock.”
“Or?”
There was no or, because really, if Ethan wanted him to lie down on the table buck-naked right now, Zayne would be there in a flash.
“Hmm, that’s what I thought.” Ethan gave him a final tug but then let him go and picked up the menu. Smug bastard. “What looks good to you tonight?”
“Besides the obvious?”
Ethan side-eyed him.
“The duck sounds good, but I’m curious if it would be too sweet for me.”
“God forbid.”
“I don’t like sweet. Life’s too short to have to stop and sugarcoat everything. Unless of course I’m eating it off someone.”
Zayne pretended to flag down the waiter. “Sugar, please, lots of it.”
Ethan chuckled, and the sound was so rare and so difficult to pull from the usually controlled man that it felt like a privilege to hear it.
“Pick something to eat, Zayne. Or we’re never going to get what we came here for.”
Zayne winked at him and picked up his menu, on a mission now to find the sweetest damn thing on there.
THE SEARED DUCK, otherwise known as Magret de canard aux cerises avec une sauce au Porto, was absolutely mouthwatering. Every single bite had been like a new discovery of flavors—and, Ethan was happy to note, none too sweet.
They’d managed to eat and drink their way through several French martinis, a delicious appetizer, and their main course, and by the end of it there was no question why the restaurant held so many prestigious awards.
Ethan placed his napkin on the table, his meal complete. They’d come to JULIEN for a specific reason tonight, but he had a feeling they’d be coming back for a very different one. This dining experience had been like a quick trip to France, and he’d enjoyed every second of it.
“Damn, we need to eat like this more often.” Zayne placed his utensils on the plate and leaned back in the booth. “I can’t remember the last time I had such a delicious meal.”
Ethan arched a brow. “You can’t?”
“Oh, you’re right. I do remember.” A roguish glint twinkled in Zayne’s eyes. “Interesting that Chloé was at both.”
“As far as we know…” Ethan scanned the restaurant, searching the shadows for the woman they’d come there for.
All night they’d been keeping one eye on their meal and another on the staff, but with what little they could see of the bar and main dining area, Chloé hadn’t appeared. Maybe she wasn’t working tonight. As their waiter approached, Ethan decided it was time to ask.
“How was everything this evening?”
“It was delicious,” Ethan said with a smile. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” he said as he started to pick up their plates. “Did you leave any room for dessert?”
“We’re still looking over our choices, but yes, we’ll definitely be trying something.”
“You won’t regret it.”
“I’m sure.” Ethan did another quick scan and asked, “We were wondering, a friend of ours, Chloé, works here, but we haven’t seen her tonight. Do you know if she’s here?”
“Oh, yeah, Chloé’s here. In fact, the reason you didn’t see her is she’s the executive chef tonight, so she doesn’t leave the kitchen from opening to close.”
The executive chef? Now that was a new twist. When she’d said she worked at JULIEN, they just assumed as a waitress, or even a line cook. But head chef at a Michelin-starred restaurant? How was that even possible at her age?
Ethan looked over to see that Zayne felt like he did—confused.
“Would you like me to go and get her?” The waiter offered a conspiratorial grin. “She’s always willing to leave her station to meet with a happy customer.”
I bet she is, Ethan thought. “We’d love to pay our compliments to the…chef.”
“Of course. Let me get these back to the kitchen and I’ll let her know.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
He left to do just that, and Ethan turned to see Zayne looking at him with a wide grin.
“Executive chef?” He waggled his brows. “Didn’t see that coming, did you?”
“And you did?”
“Hell no, I thought for sure a hostess or waitress. But damn, that’s fucking impressive.”