“Oh, thank God,” John said, tossing the menu aside. “Pretentious conversations about wine are my least favorite part of dates. I know my chardonnay from my port, but listening to people go on and on about vintages and tannins . . .” John rolled his eyes. It was the first casual movement Zack had seen him make. It made him seem more human and less like a living fantasy sent to torment Zack. “It’s enough to put me to sleep.”

“I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of conversations about wine?”

“Oh, absolutely. At family functions, dinner parties, horse shows, you name it, Zack. My mother got into a heated argument with our pastor over the quality of California grapes at my eighth birthday party. It was quite the scandal.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that when you’re with me. I don’t even know what tannins are.” Zack flashed a shameless grin. If being unrefined was what John liked in a man, they might as well get married now. His earlier nervousness had almost melted away. John was easy to talk to—albeit a bit formal—and it was looking more and more like they might have something other than sex to talk about.

John laughed. “If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you. So, Zack, what’s your poison?” John cocked his head and gave him a thoughtful once-over. “You look like a whiskey man to me.”

“Excellent guess. What made you say that?”

“It fits your image. How do you take it?”

“Two fingers, two ice cubes.”

John wet his lips, and Zack was mesmerized by the flash of pink tongue. “Perfect.”

He signaled to the waiter and ordered for them. The waiter returned a few minutes later with two snifters of whiskey and dinner menus. Zack took a sip of his drink and almost moaned with pleasure. It tasted like oak, honey, and a hint of smoke. Definitely one of the better whiskies Zack had ever had. It occurred to him belatedly that he had no idea what John had ordered. He could be drinking a fifty-dollar glass for all he knew. The idea made him a little uncomfortable.

Zack set his snifter down and opened his menu. The numbers next to the food jumped out at him like they were attached to springs. Holy shit. It seemed he was right about the whiskey. He tried not to visibly react, but John noticed anyway.

“This place is kind of pricey, but it’s worth it. Since I picked the restaurant, dinner is my treat.”

Zack started to refuse, but John held up a hand. “Seriously, coming from a wealthy family is no fun if people won’t let me buy them things. I mean, who wants to be rich by themselves?” He smiled in a way that was both confident and embarrassed.