There was very little in the way of traffic and he managed to find a parking spot in easy walking distance. “You think you can make the walk if we take it slow?”
“Yes, Sir. We’ll just go easy. I knew it was time to get out of the house when I started stressing leaving, you know?”
“Yeah, I do. I was stressing taking you out. But you can’t get back to normal, even slowly, without doing things. It’s just dinner. With people around.” He grinned and helped Troy out of the truck. “Easy. There you go. Nice job.”
“Do I get a gold star if I’m good?” The warm tease didn’t hold an ounce of sarcasm.
“No. You get a beer.” Saul put an arm around him, natural as anything, but helping to steady him discreetly at the same time.
“That’s an encouragement, isn’t it?” Troy shot him a quick—and fairly shaky—smile.
“Yes.” He leaned over and kissed Troy’s temple. “Almost there. You’ve got this.”
“I’m fine. I totally do. The nurse wants me to gain another ten pounds. That’s good, huh? I’m almost back to rights.”
“That is good. You’re doing great. You still have those pesky five weeks, though.” He was teasing, but serious at the same time. But he was encouraged by this Troy, who was closer to the man he knew than anything he’d seen since they left the hospital.
“It’ll go fast. This week did.”
Yeah, he was fairly sure he was going to have to start binding Troy about week four.
Gee, what a shame. A hardship. How would he possibly cope?
Jesus. He cracked himself up.
Seriously though, they needed that. He needed to create some of those moments, just short scenes to keep Troy from getting restless and to keep him feeling like he had this under control. He had ideas. If Troy wasn’t exhausted, he thought he might try one later.
He pulled open the door to the restaurant. “Empanadas!”
“Oh smell that.” Troy groaned, a huge grin on his face. “I may eat forty of them.”
“Listen to you.” Yeah, that was his Troy in there. God, what a relief.
“Two?” The host grabbed a couple of menus. The place was busy but not packed, the din of conversation nice but not overwhelming.
“Yes, please.” They followed at Troy’s pace, and were seated at a nice table near a window with a view of a garden out back.
Troy settled carefully, still managing to offer the host a smile. “It smells delicious. I can’t wait.”
“We’ll take care of you, promise. Can I get you both some water?”
“Yes, please. And I’ll have a margarita on the rocks, please. You want a beer, baby?”
“I do, with my meal, please.” Troy shrugged as the host headed off. “I don’t like a warm beer, and there’s no way I can drink a beer on an empty stomach.”
“Good call.” Saul opened his menu. “Oh, man. I thought I knew what I wanted but… look at this menu!” There was whole page of just empanadas. And then four more pages of other amazing looking things.
Troy nodded. “It all looks like heaven. We’ll just get one of each and share.”
“You may be overestimating what your tummy can handle, just a wee bit.” He laughed though, because Troy was having fun and it showed. “I think I better go with Plan A or I’ll never be able to order.” He put the menu down.
“We’ll start slow then. Beer and yumminess. God, it’s good to get out and about.”
“It is. With other people, right? New scenery. I wanted you to get a little normal, even if it’s just a taste. Remind you that this… this is your life. Your real life.” Saul leaned back in his chair, watching Troy. “This is our town.”
“Yes. I came here and knew I belonged here.” Troy stroked his chest, right at the top of where Saul knew the incision was.
He felt the worry lines forming on his forehead and he pointed to the spot. “Hurts?”
“Itches. I keep telling myself that it’s going to be worse before it gets better, but it doesn’t work.”
He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll make a big thing out of putting stuff on it for you later.”
Troy’s smile burned him to the ground. “I’m looking forward to Monday. It’s got to be better, having the stitches out, right?”
“Yeah, stitches itch like crazy. I’ve had dozens.” He laughed. He wasn’t sure he remembered them all. “I got like, six or seven in my hand once, three in my eyebrow, a couple of fingers, some on my elbow—oh, both elbows actually. I’m a mess.”
“Your eyebrow? Is that your roper scar?” Troy stroked his own eyebrow, tracing where Saul had his scar.
Saul snorted. That was cute. “You know I’ve never roped anything but subs, cowboy. I fell off my bike. Most of them are from wipeouts.”
“When did you know that bikes were your thing?”
“Oh, man. I don’t know.” He thought about it, remembering when Abner had taught him how to ride, his first street bike, and when he’d gotten his first mountain bike. “High school? I spent a lot of time on my bike, I loved it. I’d bike to school and take crazy long routes home. And then I moved out here and got completely addicted to the mountains. I was out riding every weekend in college.”
Troy nodded, a wry smile quirking his lips. “I hear you. For me, cooking is a job. I mean, I’m not a chef. I’m a cook. So not addicted.”
“No, you’re addicted to yoga.” He gave Troy a sly smile. “Which could be so much more than a job.”
“It already is more than a job. I just have to see if I can make a living doing it.” Troy shook his head, and Saul wasn’t sure what the emotions that crossed Troy’s face meant.
“You know I’ll listen, Troy. What’s holding you back?” Their server brought his margarita and took their dinner order, interrupting the conversation. He sipped his drink and sighed. “Oh, that’s good. Want a taste?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
He offered the glass and Troy took a sip, humming softly. “That is delicious. I should have chosen that instead of my beer.”
“Never too late. You were waiting for your meal anyway.” He looked at Troy and decided to let his other question go. This wasn’t supposed to be a stressful evening. They had lots of time to hash that out. “Geoff says their Thanksgiving gathering is fun. Is that our plan?”
“I would like to, if you’d like. It’s fun, joyful, informal. There’s cooking and laughing and drinking. I’d love to go now that I’m yours.”
Now that you’re mine. “It’s good, don’t you think? Thanksgiving with your family and Christmas with mine?”
Troy nodded and touched his knee under the table, the caress light as feathers.
He could blame his warm cheeks on the first few sips of his margarita, but he wouldn’t be kidding anyone. That feeling belonged to Troy. Of course, if Troy said anything, he might deny it. He was stupid happy, though. And stupidly in love, which was both amazing and sobering at the same time. So serious, and so much fun all at once.
“I’ve got some ideas for your bike. Emma thinks the titanium frames are going to come down in price in the spring, but I think you’d do just fine with the standard aluminum-alloy. I’m going to bring home a catalog for you to look at. You want to hit the mountain, right? Or did you want to stay on the road?”