Then, it was Oliver who smirked. “Well? What does the globe trotting Special Branch officer recommend?”
Lucas looked up, scrubbing a hand over his freshly shaven chin. “Can you understand this?” He replied, gesturing at the menu.
Oliver grinned and pointed to the two things he could actually read. “That says carbonara, and that says spaghetti bolognaise. That might say lasagna but they’ve added a few extra letters so I can’t be sure.”
“Yes, Reed. I could read that much.”
Oliver stuck out the tip of his tongue. “Well, seeing as you’re just as much of an uncultured swine as I am, I’d say there’s only one thing for it.”
“Oh?” Lucas lifted a brow.
Taking a sip of wine, Oliver leant back with a smug expression. “Tasting platter.”
Lucas glanced at the menu again, his mouth slowly forming a smile. “It’s twenty-seven courses, Reed. We’ll be here all night.”
Oliver nodded, tapping the tip of his toe against the chair leg. “You’ve seen how quickly I can put away a packet of Malted Milks. Do you doubt my capabilities?”
Humming, Lucas laid the menu on the table. “That’s true. In fact, I believe I witnessed a case study just this morning with chocolate chip cookies.”
Oliver scoffed. “Jesus, you make it sound like I’ve got a problem.”
The ‘small plates’advertised on the tasting platter were, in fact, not all that small, and by the tenth course, Oliver had to take a break. He pressed a glass of water to his neck as he found himself growing very hot and very uncomfortable.
“Giving up so soon?” Lucas said, swirling red wine around his glass.
Fanning himself with a napkin, Oliver asked one of the waitresses to open a window. “Give me a minute. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
Lucas chuckled, finishing the remnants of a Caprese salad. As he patted a napkin to his lips, his eyes flicked to the flush of pink that was slowly creeping across Oliver’s cheeks. Leaning across the table, he pressed the back of his hand to Oliver’s forehead, frowning as he brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.
“You’re quite warm, Reed. Are you sure the pork ragu didn’t finish you off?”
Waving the comment away, Oliver took a long gulp of cold water as his feet began to grow hot. Leaning back in his seat, he ran his tongue over his teeth. The stress of the last few days had sapped his energy more than he realised, and he found his eyes growing heavy.
“Reed,” Lucas said, gently tickling the back of his hand. Oliver’s gaze slid from the window to the alpha.
“Yes?” He replied, voice quiet.
“I said, thank you for coming.”
Oliver gave a small smile as he ran a finger around the rim of his wineglass. “Emotional blackmail aside, thank you for inviting me. If left to my own devices, I’d have just spent the whole evening feeling depressed about Alfie.”
Lucas sighed, taking another sip of wine. “It took its toll on you.” Oliver nodded. “You did an exceptional job with what you had. I hope you know that.”
Letting out a breath, Oliver looked down at his glass. “I-I’m not sure about that, Lucas. I feel like I made things worse. What if he never opens up to me?”
“No, Reed. It was clear to anyone watching that he felt safe with you. He wanted to talk, but it was too much. You were right. We should have taken our time.”
Oliver’s brows pinched together as he looked up at the alpha. “Thank you,” he whispered. “He’ll need a lot of counselling before he’s ready to talk again. I just hope social services do a better job of supporting him this time.”
“Shirley’s left, hasn’t she? Isn’t there someone new taking over?”
Swallowing the dryness in his throat, Oliver nodded.
“Have you worked with him before?”
He hesitated before answering. “No.”
Thankfully, the waitresses chose that moment to bring another round of plates, which Oliver ate if only to avoid talking about Patrick. “So,” he said, steering the conversation well and truly away from contentious ex-boyfriends. “How did you end up in the Special Branch?”
