...John continued on to what he considered his booth. By the time he got there, Heath had a coffee ready for him. He breathed in deeply as he eased past Heath to sit. Clean sweat and a fresh, musky scent filled his nose. Thank God, the table concealed his erection from Heath.

“It’s good to see you again. I have to admit I was worried when you hadn’t come in for a few days. I’m glad to hear you weren’t overseas.” Heath dipped his head, peering at him through his blond bangs and gave John a shy smile.

“Thanks, Heath. Next time I leave, I’ll stop by and let you know where I’m going. I don’t want you to worry.” He reached out and touched the top of Heath’s hand with the tips of his fingers.

Heath’s gaze dropped to where their skin joined, and John started to pull back, but Heath quickly covered his hand. They froze, staring at each other for a second before the banging of glasses together broke them apart.

“Thanks. I’d appreciate it. Can I get you the usual?”

“It’s meatloaf night, isn’t it?” John didn’t need to look at a menu. He’d memorized the thing within the first couple of days he’d come to the café.

“It is Sunday.” Heath winked. “Are you going to want a piece of pecan pie? I’ll save you some.”

“Pecan pie? Did you make it?” He took a sip of his coffee to keep from reaching out and grabbing Heath’s hand again.

Heath nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then I’ll have a piece.” John leaned back and sighed. “I’m glad to be back. That drive from the airport is tiring, considering I had a three-hour flight on top of that.”

“I’ve done that trip, and you’re right. It’s tiring. I’ll bring out your dinner when it’s ready.”

“Thanks.”

Heath turned and walked away. John tried not to ogle the man’s ass, but hell, Heath had the prettiest butt John had ever seen. He hoped he had a chance to get up close and personal with that ass soon.

* * *

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.”