“Exactly. And I’ll bring it around right if I have to. I prefer that things work out on their own.”
“You like to step in only when you need to. Then when you do, it has more of an impact and they listen to you.” Dawson nodded. “I guess I now know how strong and smart you are.”
Sinclair hadn’t expected that. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me so far.” Then his heart skipped a beat when Dawson’s eyes shone and his smile extended all the way to his eyes. Too bad Sinclair was driving, because he had the notion to kiss him right there…. Hell, his notion went a lot further than that. But his imaginings were all he was going to get for now.
Chapter Five
Dinner was really good, but there was something off with the food. Or maybe it was Dawson’s recollection of it. There was nothing bad and it tasted good, but it didn’t quite have the depth of flavor he remembered, which was surprising. Still, the evening was good, and the restaurant was jammed with people eating as well as stopping in to get food to go. So maybe it was just him.
“What did you think?” Dawson asked.
Sinclair had mostly picked at his food, eating some but not other parts. He leaned across the table. “Everyone seems to love it, but it relies on smoke to carry the flavor a little too much. I’d rather have spice and juiciness than that. I know it appeals to some, but I don’t think it’s for me.” He finished his coleslaw and cornbread, but left the rest of the meat alone. “I don’t have to worry about them not doing the wedding.”
Dawson finished his, but realized that maybe that was what had unsettled him. He didn’t remember the meat having such a smoky flavor. He caught the server’s attention to snag the bill so they could leave. “Are you still hungry?” he asked once they were in the car.
“Maybe a little. I suppose that just wasn’t to my taste.” Sinclair started the engine and reversed the way they’d come.
“Turn right up here,” Dawson instructed, taking them out toward the highway.
“Where are we going?”
“Sonic. You can get a burger so you don’t waste away to nothing.” Dawson didn’t want anyone to go hungry. “And I’ve decided that I’ll cook the brisket for the wedding. Oliver’s grills are on the ranch, and I’ll make sure they’re in good condition.” He had been thinking about it a lot, and Oliver and Rita would both be pleased that he was doing it. Of course he’d tell her so it wasn’t a surprise, but it was time.
“That would be awesome,” Sinclair said as he pulled into one of the carhop stations.
“Get me a burger, order of tots, and a mint chip soda,” Dawson told Sinclair, then waited while he added his burger and a diet soda.
“How can you eat so much?” Sinclair asked once he’d raised the window to keep the cool air inside. He even reached over to pat Dawson’s belly. “You’re made of rocks.”
“It comes from hard work all day, every day. I’m up at dawn and I work until sundown. Physical labor requires a great deal of fuel. I eat a huge breakfast every morning, three or four sandwiches for lunch, and then a big dinner.” He grinned. “If I don’t eat that way, I lose weight.”
“Damn, I envy you. If I ate that much…. I suppose I don’t get enough activity outside the gym.”
Dawson leaned over the console. “Well, we can change that if you like.” Two could play that game. Sinclair had alluded to after-dinner fun, and from the way his blue eyes widened, Dawson surmised that he might have been kidding earlier. But even with the air-conditioning working, the atmosphere inside the car grew warmer, and Sinclair tugged slightly at his collar.
The carhop brought their food, and Dawson tucked in, eating the burger in a few bites. He was surprised to still be hungry, but he sipped his shake and finished off the tots, then put the trash in the bag and took Sinclair’s when he was done. “Do you want a sip of the shake?” He never shared his food with anyone other than Georgia. His mother had been one of those people who ate off everyone else’s plate, so he tended to be a little defensive about what was his when it came to eating. Still, with Sinclair, he offered to share.
Sinclair leaned over and took a sip. “That’s really good,” he whispered, his tongue sliding along his lips to get the last of it.
Dawson drank and then offered Sinclair a little more, but he declined, started the engine, and pulled out of the space, heading back toward the ranch.
“Make a left turn just ahead,” Dawson instructed as they got close to the drive. “Go in about a hundred yards and stop.” Sinclair did, and Dawson got out of the car, a refreshing night breeze wafting around them.
“What are we here for?” Sinclair asked.
Dawson pointed upward. “Here there’s no light from anything around. Just us and the stars.” There was no moon, so the sky was filled with twinkling points of light, millions of them. He took Sinclair’s hand and placed his hat on the hood of the car. “If you look up and just concentrate on the sky, the stars seem to get closer and soon you’re surrounded by them.”
“Do you come out here often?” Sinclair asked. “I know I would.”
“I used to. This was where I came to think and where I’d come when I returned from the rodeo circuit. It was like this was my spot. When I was trying to figure out all those facets of myself that I didn’t understand, here was where I stood to work it out.”
“I see. Maybe everyone would have an easier time of it if they had a place like this,” Sinclair whispered. “This, looking up, reminds us how small we are and that our problems aren’t anywhere near as big as we might feel they are.” He shifted closer, and Dawson put an arm around him, just standing still.
“At one time I knew all the constellations, but not so much anymore.” He sighed. “I remember standing in the back yard with my mother, and she would tell me stories about how the constellations got there. My father used to tell her that was a waste of time, and then one of their fights would start and I would go to my room and bury my ears under the pillow.” He pushed away those memories, not wanting them to cloud this moment. “But I remember some of her stories. Of course now I know that she was talking about Greek mythology and retelling it in her own words. And it was pretty cool and all.”
“But now they’re all mixed up with your mom and your dad fighting, and then the breakup…,” Sinclair supplied. “I wish I could tell you to just remember the stories and forget all the rest, but it doesn’t work that way. Nothing is ever quite so simple.” He leaned his head against Dawson’s shoulder, and Dawson drew him nearer, closing the distance between them until their lips met. The kiss was soft, tinged with the spices from earlier and maybe a hint of mint.
“Is that okay?” Dawson whispered into the darkness between them.
Sinclair’s nod was visible against the stars. “Do it again.”
Dawson didn’t wait another second, pulling Sinclair into an embrace and kissing him harder, stealing his own breath as Sinclair reciprocated.
“You know, I think this place will have different memories now.” He squeezed Dawson’s hand, slipping out of his embrace and slowly walking around the side of the car.