“I could give you the kiss of life.”
Oliver clenched his jaw and slowly turned to look at the alpha. “Do I need to turn this car around, Detective Sergeant White?”
Lucas’ nostrils flared as he dragged his hazel eyes over Oliver’s throat. “No. But you can say that again, DC Reed. Slower, and clench your teeth more.”
Oliver let out a sharp breath and found his gaze drifting up to the sky, becauseMary Mother of Christ,it was going to be a long drive.
The Yellow Perilheaved into a parking space—her axels groaned and the gearbox made a suspicious chugging sound—but somehow they made it to Bella Italia without breaking down.
Sitting on the outskirts of town, the restaurant overlooked a grassy park which they had to walk through to reach its entrance. Lucas held open the door as they slipped inside, the smell of Italian food hitting Oliver’s nose and making his mouth water. Lucas’ fingers brushed his lower back as they waited at the front desk, and Oliver had to stop himself from leaning into the touch.
The waitress welcomed them with a bright smile. “Do you have a booking?”
“Yes. White. Eight o’clock,” Lucas said, their shoulders pressing together. The girl’s eyes softened as her gaze slipped to Oliver, then back up to Lucas, then back to Oliver. Her lip quivered slightly, and she had to cover her mouth to stifle a quiet gasp. Oliver narrowed his eyes and glared up at the alpha, whoreturned his suspicious expression with an overly sympathetic smile.
What the fuck?
The waitressed lead them towards a window table overlooking the park, which was possibly the best view in the entire place. Families played together on the green, children—both human and wolf jumped in and out of the massive fountain at its centre. Deep, achingly soulful notes thrummed from a cellist positioned just outside the window, and the air conditioning was set just right, so it blew a gentle breeze through both their hair. It was, in a word,romantic.
Scowling, Oliver plucked up the menu that was laid before him, reached across the table and grabbed the collar of Lucas’ shirt. He held the menu up, shielding their faces from view.
“What thehelldid you tell them to get this table?” He hissed, their faces almost touching.
Lucas grinned and rubbed the tip of his nose against Oliver’s. “That’s confidential information,” he whispered, “But you should probably cough a few times, to make it look convincing.”
“Cough? Convincing? Fucking hell, did you tell them I’m dying or something?”
The alpha shrugged, pinching the menu between his fingers and pulling it closer to their faces. “I may… or may not… have implied that you have a terrible wasting condition, and this may be your one and only opportunity to sample their famous tiramisu.”
Oliver wrinkled his nose, “So now I have to pretend to be dyingandhave tiramisu for dessert? I’m honestly not sure which is worse.”
“You don’t like tiramisu?”
“No! Who the fuck likes tiramisu? I wanted the limoncello cheesecake.”
“I like tiramisu, actually. But, I suppose we could have both.”
Oliver scoffed and dropped the menu. “Christ on a bike, Lucas. Black tea, tiramisu…next you’re going to tell me you like Brussel sprouts.”
Lucas drew back, crossing his arms with a playful smirk. “What’s wrong with them?”
Covering his mouth, Oliver looked out the window. “Someone call an exorcist.”
Lucas sucked his bottom lip and picked up the menu again. “Reed,” he said, pretending to study it. “Please don’t make me laugh. This is a very serious matter.”
“Youmade it a serious matter whenyoutold them I was dying,” he growled, stabbing his forefinger into the surface of the table. His scowl slowly fell away when he saw Lucas holding the menu over his mouth, eyes shining as he tried not to laugh. Their eyes met, and Oliver had to cover his own mouth to stop a smile forming.
“You’re terrible,” he whispered, tapping Lucas’ knee under the table. The alpha caught his hand, gently squeezing his fingers.
“So are you,” he replied, the corner of his mouth tipping into a teasing grin.
Hushed giggles caught Oliver’s attention, and as he turned towards the sound, he spotted two of the waitresses huddled together in the corner. They gazed at them with watery eyes and wistful sighs, and Oliver inadvertently coughed. Lucas chuckled and ran a thumb over his knuckles.
“Don’t overdo it,” he whispered.
“R-Right,” Oliver replied, mouthing to the waitresses that he wouldreallylike some wine, before casting his attention to the menu. Even the lettering oozed class, and he was slightly ashamed to admit that he didn’t recognise half the dishes on offer.
Heat crept up his neck as he felt Lucas’ fingers tracing circles across his knee. He wasn’t surewhenthey had become quite so touchy-feely, but as his eyes flicked up, he saw the alpha staring down at the menu with a frown.
