Kyle’s thoughts on exactly what kind of dancing he’d like to do with Hal were interrupted by the return of George. He was followed by a line of men and women bearing plates and bowls. One by one the dishes for the first course were placed in front of Kyle and Hal, and each one was better than the last: bowls of onion soup, a platter of oysters nestled on one half of their shell, a bed of greens.
“I hope this is to your liking, Captain,” George said as he poured ruby colored wine into Hal’s glass. “It’s from Virginia.” He turned to fill Kyle’s glass. “It’s quite popular in the colonies. They say that every full moon the vintner plays lullabies on his violin for the vines, to make the grapes sweeter.” He set the bottle on the table, then bowed. “Enjoy, gentleman.” He and his helpers left, leaving Hal and Kyle to their meal.
Hal picked up one of the oyster shells and handed it to Kyle. “Did you know they are considered aphrodisiacs.”
Kyle took the oyster from Hal and lifted it to his mouth. Keeping his eyes on Hal, he tipped his head back and sucked the oyster from its shell, letting the salty morsel slide across his tongue and down his throat whole in one swallow. Hal’s lips parted and he sucked in his breath, his eyes burning with need. Kyle slowly licked his lips, then smiled at Hal. “No, I hadn’t heard that.”
“You are a tease,” Hal growled. He prodded Kyle’s foot under the table. “If you’re not good, you won’t get the rest of your Christmas presents.”
Kyle gave Hal his best pout, then tucked into the food. He savored every bite of the salad. Greens were a rarity in a life at sea and he regretted every moment he had complained when his mother made him eat them as a child.
Kyle glanced out the window at the wharf and spotted Kilowog easily in the crowd of people, as the man towered over everyone. Soranik walked next to him, her hand on his arm. Kyle smiled, wondering if something was going on between them.
He picked up the glass of wine and took a sip. It really was the sweetest wine he’d ever tasted. Maybe grape vines really did like music under the moonlight.
There was a distant knock, the same rhythm Hal had used to gain entrance to the restaurant. Kyle watched George waddle down the hallway to the door, curious as to who would be coming in next.
The man who followed George into the restaurant did not even attempt to hide his occupation. He was still dressed in a grimy, salt-crusted coat, a large tricorn hat, and there was a small monkey on his shoulder.
Kyle looked at Hal, to ask if he knew the man, but it was obvious Hal did. Hal turned away, apparently to hide his face, and muttered under his breath, “Shit!”