Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

What the hell was he doing bringing Dr. Ford St. Claire here to meet his family? He’d had the opportunity to go anywhere he wanted in the city and have the meal of a lifetime—Ford had said to take his pick—and yet he’d chosen his family’s little place where he’d grown up and spent practically five nights a week. Not to mention, his cousin and Teresa would be dissecting their every move.

“Hello? Earth to Nico.” Joey waved a hand in front of his face. “Whaddya wanna order?”

He had nothing to be ashamed of. If Ford wanted to know how the real people in the city lived, he was gonna get a taste of it.

“Okay, bring us some baked clams, burrata, and calamari to start. Then we’ll do mussels in white wine with linguine, baked ziti, and throw some eggplant in there too, and chicken parm with a side of sautéed spinach.” He checked in with Ford, who sat watching him with his jaw hanging open. “What?”

“That’s a lot of food.”

“Nah. You’ll see. We’ll finish it all, no problem.”

Nodding, Joey wrote on his pad. “He’s right. Once you start eatin’ it, you can’t stop. I know you’re havin’ chicken and mussels, but I’m gonna bring you a nice red. It’ll go good with everything.”

He disappeared, leaving them alone. Soft opera music played in the background, reminding him of dinner with his nonno and nonna.

“If the food tastes like it smells, I’ll be in heaven.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be hearin’ the angels singing.” Nico took a hunk of bread and dipped it in olive oil. “Have some.”

“I don’t usually eat bread.”

Now it was Nico’s turn to stare. “What? Who doesn’t eat bread, especially good bread like this? Wait a sec. You aren’t one of those carb counters, are you?”

Ford turned red. “Uh, I mean, I try not to have too many carbs, and I eat mostly protein and veggies.”

“Marone a mia,” he muttered. “Listen, Doc. Food is like sex. You can never have too much if it’s good. A little bread isn’t gonna hurt you. Go ahead,” he urged. “And make sure you dip it in the oil.”

Cheeks adorably pink, Ford did as told.

“It’s delicious. I guess now that I’m not working full-time in the practice, I can work out more. I do yoga, but maybe it’s time to try other things.”

Nico thought Ford was pretty damn perfect as is and forced his dirty mind away from thinking of him in skimpy, tight pants. “I’m sure there’s a gym in your building, and a pool. Or you can bike, do all kinds of shit like that. You live in Florida.”

Teresa plunked on the table two platters filled with their appetizers. “Florida? Who lives there? You, Ford?”

“Yes. Fort Lauderdale.”

She eyed Nico, then Ford. “What kinda doctor are you again?”

“A dermatologist.”

“Yeah?” She studied Ford. “You do Botox? ’Cause your face is smooth like a baby.”

Ford smothered a laugh, and Nico huffed. “Jesus, Tre.”

Luckily, Ford took it in good humor. “No. I don’t. But I have plenty of patients who want it, and fillers. People are obsessed with looking young. I prefer to take care of myself and age gracefully. You’re young and have beautiful skin. You obviously take care of it.”

She flipped her hair. “Yeah. I drink lotsa water, no tanning like these dummies do, and tons of moisturizer. But anyways, how’d you two meet?”

“Smooth, Tre.” Nico dipped a crunchy calamari in the spicy red sauce. “I mean, nothing like the third degree while our food’s getting cold.”

She glared at him. “You gonna bring a guy here and think we don’t have questions? You stupid or somethin’?”

Ford laughed out loud. “I took one of Nico’s tours a month or so ago and left my wallet on the bus. He returned it, and we happened to run into each other later that evening. We talked, and when I came back for a conference this week, I surprised him by taking another tour.”

“Yeah? Happened to run into each other? In New York City?” Her pretty brown eyes narrowed. “That’s a good one.”

Nico could see she had her doubts. “It’s the truth.”

“One of them funny coincidences, huh? Okay, I’ll buy it. Well, eat up. Here comes Joey with the wine.”

“Jesus, it’s like having dinner onstage,” Nico grumbled. He should’ve known this would happen. He’d never get a chance to talk to Ford one on one.

“Hey, Nico?” Ford took a baked clam. “Don’t stress. We have all night.”

They shared a smile, and he relaxed. What was he so nervous about? This was his life, take it or leave it.

Joey set two wineglasses in front of them and poured Ford the wine to taste. “Whaddya think? Pretty good, huh?”

Knowing Ford would never say anything bad, Nico expected a quick “yeah, of course,” but again Ford surprised him.

“It’s a Pinot Noir, right? I taste the cherry. It’s very good—my favorite red. Thank you, Joey.”

“You got it. I could tell you got good taste.” Puffed up, Joey poured more into Ford’s glass and then his. “He’s a good guy, Nico. Don’t be stupid.”

“Shut up,” he growled, and Joey walked away. “Don’t pay attention to him.” He picked up his glass. “Salute.”

They clinked and drank. Ford was right. It was delicious.

They ate their appetizers, and Nico could see Ford wasn’t faking his enjoyment simply to make him happy. When he tasted the burrata, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Oh God, this is amazing.”

Pride swelled in Nico’s chest. “It’s good, ain’t it? We get it fresh every day from this old guy who makes his cheese by hand.”

Ford licked his lips, and a powerful surge of lust rocketed through Nico. It had been over a month since he’d gotten laid, something unheard of for him, but the desire to hook up wasn’t there. Between the two jobs, he was running on fumes and had little time to think about anything else. He crunched more calamari. Lately his head had been wrapped up in figuring out what to do with his life professionally. His personal life could wait.

Watching Ford from beneath half-lowered lids, Nico knew he’d give his left nut to spend the night with him. Fuck, he was dying to kiss him, almost from the first second he saw him. And Nico Andretti wasn’t the type to wait. But not this time. Ford had said that night at Stonewall that he didn’t have sex with men he barely knew. It wasn’t a tease on his part—Ford might be older, but there was an innocence about him that brought out a protective instinct Nico hadn’t been aware he possessed. Nico sensed deep hurt from his ex and something else he hadn’t yet figured out. Maybe he’d get more answers tonight.

They finished off the starters as the main courses arrived. Ford groaned. “I am in so much trouble.”

Nico suppressed a grin.

You are if I have anything to say about it.

Teresa set plates in front of them. “Enjoy, guys.”

“Have some more wine.” Nico refilled their glasses. “Looks good, yeah?”

“It does. Very good.”

Nico felt Ford’s gaze on him and held it. Well, damn. A throb of lust hit him low in his belly. The night was looking better and better. He scooped out some baked ziti and put it on Ford’s plate, then took some.

“So, how’d you get the name Ford? Is it like one of them old, Waspy family names? Were you named after your rich grandpa or something?” He placed a chicken cutlet on top of the ziti to make room for the mussels.

In the process of cutting his chicken, Ford hesitated. “No. I was named Ford because my mother got pregnant in the back of a Thunderbird and she thought Ford sounded classy.” He chewed his food as Nico sat stunned by the revelation. “At least that’s her claim, but of course, she could’ve been lying. She was a master at it.”

Well, damn. That was not the story he’d imagined when thinking of the classy Dr. St. Claire. The fact that Ford continued to eat as if nothing he’d said was mind-blowing only proved Nico’s theory. Ford held a whole lot of hurt inside him, and Nico was caught up in fervently wanting to know more.

“Hey.” Nico surprised himself by putting his hand over Ford’s slightly shaky one and giving it a squeeze. “We all got shit we have to deal with.”

Ford jerked his head in a nod and drank his wine. Nico decided to table the discussion for the moment and concentrate on the two of them.

“Feel like going out after we finish?”

“Where to?” Ford mopped up the sauce on his plate with the last of the bread, and that made Nico stupid happy.

“We could go to Stonewall again.” He wasn’t ready to take him to Maxie’s. One set of family members was enough for the night.

“Or someplace new. I always heard stories about those rooftop bars overlooking the city.”

Nico’s heart sank. He didn’t have the money to spend like that, and he wasn’t dressed for it. “I don’t think I could get us in there,” he said quietly.

Ford met his eyes. “Then we don’t go. Stonewall it is.”

They finished their meal, and without asking, Teresa brought them over a tiramisu to share and Joey followed with cappuccinos.

“God, I don’t think I can take another bite.” Ford groaned, the sound going straight to Nico’s dick. He wanted to hear what Ford sounded like naked and under him, begging for his cock.

“Sure you can. Here.” He cut a small piece off and held it out to Ford, who instinctively licked his lips and leaned forward. “Come on, Doc. Let loose. Just for one night.”

Something hot flared in Ford’s honey-colored eyes, and he allowed Nico to slide the fork between his lips.

“Mmm,” Ford hummed, and Nico felt the vibration all the way to his fucking toes. “So good.”

“Yeah. So good.”

Eyes locked, he took a piece and licked the fork, watching the unmistakable lust rise in Ford’s eyes. They finished the dessert, and Ford gulped down his ice water.

“I-I need to use the restroom. Where is it, please?”

Nico pointed to the corner, and Ford left. Joey and Teresa hurried over.

“Dude, what the hell was that? I felt like I was watchin’ a porno flick.”

“Ew, Joey, you’re disgusting.” Teresa gave him a shove, but her eyes sparkled. “But he is so into you. And he’s hot, even if he is older.”

“What the hell does that mean, even if?” Nico demanded.

“Jeez, chill out. I’m just sayin’, usually you go for guys your age. This one’s different. And he’s got class.”

“He does,” Nico agreed. And not just because he had money. Ford might’ve dropped a bombshell about his less-than-perfect childhood, but he’d sure as hell made something of himself.

Teresa nudged Joey. “Sam wants to pay. He’s at the register.” Joey took off. “You like him.”

Nico shrugged. “I mean, yeah. What’s not to like?”

“Don’t play cute with me.” Her voice dropped. “I know you. You’ve never brought nobody here for dinner. He’s special.”

“He lives in Florida, Tre.”

“So? That’s why God invented planes. And FaceTime. Lemme tell you something. That guy hasn’t had enough of you yet. You must’ve weaved that sexy Nico spell around him, because he is into you, like the cream in a cannoli shell. Take him home and have some fun.”

Of course Teresa assumed they were having sex—Nico doubted she’d believe him if he told her they hadn’t even kissed. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Ford approaching. The way his shirt clung to his broad chest and his jeans molded to his body left Nico breathless.

“It’s complicated.”

“Why? ’Cause he makes more money than you? Or that he’s way older? You ain’t still lost in your head from that no-good asshole, are you?” When he didn’t answer, she leaned in closer. “Those things are bullshit. You’re no slouch. Don’t go thinkin’ you ain’t good enough just ’cause he’s a doctor and has money.” A customer called her over, and she hurried away.

“Ready to go?”

Ford returned to the table. “Yeah, I’m ready.” He had his phone in hand. “I’ll get us a car. How much do I owe—”

“You’re kiddin’, right?” Nico waved a hand in the air. “Family don’t pay, and you’re with me.”

But Ford didn’t move. “I have to give something to Teresa and Joey for serving us.” He fished out his wallet and took out two fifty-dollar bills. “Give me a second.”

Nico watched, his heart filled with some unidentifiable emotion. Maybe there really were good-hearted people left in the world. Teresa hugged Ford, and Joey slapped him on the back.

Nico spied the car pull up outside. “Our ride’s here,” he called out. Ford gave one last wave, and Nico kissed Teresa and hugged Joey. “Catch ya later.”

“Be good,” Teresa said, and he snickered.

“I always am.”

Ford had already entered the car, and Nico slid in next to him.

“Thank you for that amazing meal.”

“Well, I didn’t cook it, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Can you? Cook, I mean,” Ford asked.

“Yeah, of course. I started helping with the sauce when I was two years old. My nonna would sit me on the kitchen counter next to the stove with a spoon and show me how to stir. I can make everything we serve in the restaurant. What about you?”

Ford made a face. “My mother knew how to make coffee. That and cigarettes were her main diet. We didn’t even have an oven in our trailer. Just a stovetop and a microwave. If it came from a box or a freezer, I’d make it for dinner because I was home alone. She’d get her boyfriends at the strip club to buy her dinner, but there was never anything left over for me.”

Trailer? Strip club? Home alone? Horrified by the bits and pieces Ford had begun to share of his story, Nico kept silent, but he reached out and took Ford’s hand in his and squeezed tight. He felt an answering pressure, and they sat that way as the car traveled into the city.

Nico noticed they were heading up the West Side Highway and thought it odd, but maybe there was traffic. When they passed the usual exits for the Village, he leaned over to Ford.

“I don’t think this guy knows where he’s going. We’re getting close to midtown.”

Ford held his hand tight. “I know. I told him to take us back to my hotel. I hope you don’t mind.”

Nico smiled, picked up their entwined hands, and kissed Ford’s knuckles. “I don’t mind at all.”