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And now here I stood in the lobby of the Brazilian restaurant Tommy suggested we eat at tonight. I was nervous, anxious… anticipating what was to come.
This morning, after he asked me to dinner, we’d eaten breakfast together, which was still giving me a little bit of butterflies in my belly. And before we parted ways for the day, we exchanged numbers. We could’ve easily come here together, but instead, I told him I would just meet him here, so there were no expectations or assumptions.
I stared at the big blue neon sign of the restaurant, feeling a little overwhelmed.
Comida de Carne.
I’d never eaten at a Brazilian steakhouse before, and I was actually excited to try. Or maybe I was just excited, because it was dinner with Tommy.
The restaurant was beautiful, with low lighting but bright neon accents all around. The music was loud, maybe a little too much, but it fit the atmosphere. And there were so many people, some lingering, others waiting for a table, and the rest seated to eat.
Then I felt a light touch on my shoulder, drawing me out of my thoughts. I turned around, looking up to see Tommy standing there. He gave me this slow, sinfully sexy smile, and without saying anything, we headed to the hostess desk, and he gave his name. We were led up the stairs, passing tables, a salad and appetizer bar, then up another flight of stairs. I researched the restaurant a little before we’d come, knew they had dancers that preformed intermittently, even an acrobat show.
Once seated, the hostess gave us the rundown of the coaster style cards in front of us. On one side it said Não and the other Si. When the servers came around with the meat, we’d keep our cards flipped to Si—yes, if we wanted more. If we were done, flip it to Não—no.
Seemed simple enough.
I ordered a glass of red wine, and Tommy got a beer. Then we were left alone and the look he had on me made me feel as if he were touching me. His stare was that intense.
“What do you think about this place?” He had to lean forward and speak loudly in order to be heard over the music.
“It’s loud and colorful. I like it,” I said honestly. His grin told me my response pleased him. I don’t know why I felt a thrill move through me at that realization. I finished off my wine, and just like magic, the waitress came over and asked if I wanted another.
I sure as hell did.
We both headed downstairs to the salad bar, loaded up our plates, and once back at the table, we small-talked for the next ten minutes. He was easygoing, and talking with him felt natural. I loved that it wasn’t forced, that he could make me smile so effortlessly.
And then the food started coming around. Young men dressed in white button-down tops and black slacks held these trays with skewered meat on them, a sharp-ass knife poised carefully in their grasp as they went from table to table. When they got to us, I picked up the little tongs beside my plate and watched as he cut off a chunk of meat. I grabbed the edge with the tongs and put the meat on my plate. Everything smelled so delicious.
The guys carrying the slabs of meat just kept coming one after another, and soon I found my plate filled with different types.
Parmesan-crusted filet mignon.
Cheese-filled prime rib.
Spicy barbeque chicken legs.
The list went on and on, and I found myself really enjoying this time with Tommy, listening to him talk about what he did and how he was in the city just to relax and let off steam.
Then came the brown-sugar-glazed pineapple rings, followed by the sweet, deep-fried bananas.
I nearly had an orgasm at the latter.
I stared at Tommy, looked at how his forearms flexed, and wasn’t surprised he was in construction. A man with his build worked with his hands. His muscular form proved that.
“So,” I said after I’d taken a drink from my wine glass. He pushed his plate aside and flipped his little coaster card over to the No side. “I’m curious about why you came out of the hotel room if it was your buddy and his date getting it on loud enough we could hear.” The wine was starting to get to me, because I couldn’t normally have been so bold with my questions.
He smirked and shook his head. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. Mike is a good guy, but his choice of celibacy, or lack thereof, has always been in question.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I had a feeling maybe he was implying he was celibate? But damn, a man like him not being with women almost seemed like fiction.
