"You know, you're right. Let's go out to dinner."

Louis was stunned. A minute ago Harry had been adamant that they shouldn't go to dinner because people might get the "wrong idea."

And now he'd done a complete turnaround, and was not only open to the idea, but he appeared happy. Louis, a little flustered at first, nevertheless looked forward to it with anticipation. They hadn't gone anywhere together except to the neighbors' ranches all those weeks ago, and once to town.

He was already planning on what he would wear, wondering where Harry would decide to take him, and, curiously, what they actually ate didn't seem to be of primary importance. In fact, he didn't even think about the food. Spending time alone with Harry, sharing a meal in a relaxed atmosphere was enough even if all they did was have pleasant conversation.

When five-thirty arrived, they had already fed the animals, showered and gotten dressed. Harry emerged from the bedroom, and he very nearly left Louis breathless. In a button-down black dress shirt with new black jeans, and some fancy grey boots Louis hadn't seen before, Harry was quite the vision.

Louis had dressed in the bathroom. They had both materialized at exactly the same time, running into each other in the hallway. Trying to deflect Harry from his own awkwardness, Louis whistled.

"Whoo! You clean up nice!" It was the absolute truth, but he also wanted to get Harry's attention off him. He didn't do well with too much attention; compliments or criticism made him equally uncomfortable.

Louis' efforts proved successful. Harry tried to disguise his embarrassment, but wasn't altogether successful. He didn't say anything, but after he'd regained his composure, Louis caught his faint grin, and how his eyes roved up and down Louis' form before averting his gaze in a hasty manner.

Louis had chosen a red dress shirt and grey dress pants, two items he'd bought when they'd gone to town.

Louis wore his everyday boots, not having any nicer footwear, but had cleaned and conditioned them to make them presentable as possible. They'd seen some hard work both here, and, evidently, from where he'd been before he'd come here, but they were all he had.

"Perfect," Harry said, noticing Louis eyeing his own boots not so much with envy, but as if he was wishing his boots were a little more stylish. "A nice touch. Their everyday boots are what most cowboys wear 'round here, even out to dinner. Boots you work in are acceptable everywhere here."

Harry certainly knew the right things to say . . . when he wanted to. Louis didn't know if he believed him or not, but Harry had mollified him so he didn't feel so conspicuous. He was grateful for that. Harry had a barbed tongue that cut at times, but at other times, like right now, he made Louis feel up to scratch.

"Where are we goin'?" Louis asked.

"You'll see. Nice little place. Not too fancy, because I don't think either one of us is into that. It's quiet and homey. I've only been there a couple of times."

"Sounds great."

"Let's go then." Harry held the front door open for Louis, who almost blushed at the gesture. That had sure never happened before. As he brushed past Harry to exit the house, he caught a whiff of Harry's cologne. Mild, woodsy and masculine, it sent a shock wave of desire through Louis like a lightning bolt. Then he found himself wanting to bury his nose in Harry's hair. Acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary was becoming very difficult for Louis. He felt almost like a blushing schoolgirl on her first real date.

It was a bumpy ride on the dirt road, but Louis hardly noticed. He was trying to keep his eyes off Harry. He might as well have tried to stop breathing, because it wasn't going to happen. His side vision was filled with Harry all the way there. He wanted to sit close to him on the bench seat, but that was an impossible dream. Harry was straight.

The restaurant had a warm and cozy atmosphere, just as Harry had said it would. It was perfect for a first date. Too bad this wasn't one. It was just two cowboys going to dinner, Louis had to keep harshly reminding himself.

The steak was cooked to perfection, the baked potatoes dripping with butter, sour cream and chives, and the salad was superb.

"You're gonna get me fat feedin' me like this!" Louis exclaimed.

Harry grinned. "You could gain a little weight and certainly not look fat."

Louis was thinking the same about Harry. They worked so hard that they were more muscle than anything else. Tan and robust, they were rugged and yet refined at the same time. Louis liked that. He felt they went well together.

Quit thinking of the two of us as together! Together, as in a couple, was implausible.

Louis, when he was able to pry his eyes away from Harry, glanced at the other men's boots. Harry had been telling the truth. Most of them were wearing their day-to-day work boots. Only a few were sporting fancier boots like Harry's.

Suddenly, picturing Harry at a high class restaurant, Louis' mind wandered, and settled on Harry in a bolo tie. Wow, that would be super hot. It would surely make Louis want to tear his clothes off. As if he didn't badly want to anyway. So perhaps it was a good thing they were here instead of some place like that. Louis wouldn't feel at all comfortable in a fancy restaurant anyway. This this place was excellent for their dinner. Foolproof. Louis could be relaxed and be himself.

Foolproof didn't last, however. Of course, Louis went and said something that was inappropriate for a dinner table. He was just trying to make conversation, kind of forgetting where they were.

"Forgot to tell you. Monkey had a headless rat the other day, playing with it and throwing it into the air. You were out in a pasture doing sommat. Can't remember what. I laughed so hard I got stomach cramps."

Harry wrinkled his nose up. "Wonderful, Lou. Now I can't unsee that image in my head," he deadpanned. Louis realized his faux pas at once. Great way to start the evening, he thought. Just when he'd wanted to make a good impression on Harry too.

But then Harry put his hand up to his face to cover his mouth, and Louis concluded he was trying not to smile. All was not lost. Harry got his humor because often Harry's humor drifted in a similar direction.

The waitress asked if they wanted dessert after they had finished their meals, and were still engrossed in conversation. They hadn't looked at the dessert menu, but Harry insisted they should have dessert on this special occasion. He asked the waitress what she recommended.

"Well, my personal favorite is the Dulce de leche," she said, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder and shyly flirting with Harry. She was trying not to be obvious, but Louis knew the feeling. It was damn near impossible not to try flirting with Harry. Big surprise, that. Harry was so good looking that every female eye in the room was already on him, and had been for their entire dinner. But – Louis was the one he was with, and that consoled him somewhat. The conversation hadn't been heavy at all. But that was how Louis liked it. He'd been heedful to keep it light, with no touching on any subject that might cause a disagreement.

They were both pretty full from dinner, so Harry asked that the waitress split the dessert and give them each half a serving. But when it came, a full serving was on one plate, and the waitress casually laid two dessert spoons beside it.

Well, well, well.

Harry's eyes were as big as saucers. So the waitress must think they were lovers! Normally, they would have been terribly embarrassed, but Louis giggled to break the ice, and then they both burst into quiet laughter, trying not to be too raucous, so as not to disturb the other diners, or call attention to themselves. At least they could see the humor in it. Louis was quite pleased with himself.

And so they shared it, each working on an opposite end until they met in the middle, and cleaned the plate. It was so rich and delicious that now Louis was feeling a little bloated.

"The waitress was flirting with you," Louis observed.

"Maybe she wants to do a threesome," said Harry, shocking Louis to the bone, as Harry had never said anything so blatant before. He'd always been way too uptight to joke about sex. Louis' harmless little innuendos had always put him a little off balance. Tonight though, it looked like he was finally letting his guard down a little and had decided to try out Louis' humor for himself.

If he meant to jolt Louis, he'd been successful. However, Louis was only set back for a few moments. He landed on his feet like a sleek cat.

"She's not me type," Louis hit back.

That was when Harry blushed like Louis had never seen before. Louis was sending out a very subtle message, and wondered if he would catch on. Chances were he wouldn't, but when Louis saw him blush, he wondered if he had. Louis made sure he chuckled about it so Harry wouldn't freak out or maybe even get angry. This way, it would look like Louis was being light-hearted, not in any way serious.

If only Harry knew.

Harry had taken note of a guy seated across the room, to Louis' right, and to Harry's left. He'd been staring at Louis, trying to be sneaky about it, but he hadn't fooled Harry. Louis was quite a looker, and Harry was proud to be with him, but just the same, he didn't appreciate this guy feasting his eyes on him. The sudden stab of fierce protectiveness Harry was hit with was jarring.

Louis never noticed the guy – Harry was pretty sure of it. For a brief moment, Harry wondered if the guy recognized Louis, but then discarded that thought. If someone had recognized him, they'd probably be more inclined to come over and greet Louis instead of just stare at him. In any case, it was a little bit creepy. Harry kept an image of the guy in the back of his mind, should any more incidents occur in the future.

"Want some coffee, or wanna go home?" asked Harry.

"We can always have coffee at home," Louis was abashed that he'd answered so quickly. He hoped Harry hadn't noticed. He didn't want Harry to realize he was eager to be at home alone with him. Sure, this small sliver of time away from the ranch had been nice, but Louis already missed their private time.

You're pathetic, Louis thought to himself.

"Good enough." Harry seemed a little enthusiastic to leave, himself, if Louis wasn't imagining things. Harry slid out of the seat and they made their way to the cashier. Harry casually looked over at the guy who had been looking at Louis throughout dinner, and the guy was still watching Louis intently as they stood at the counter waiting to settle the bill. He sure wasn't shy about it, Harry observed. He felt an unreasonable desire to punch him. As they walked out, Harry could see the guy's eyes were still fastened on Louis.

Looking at his ass. Harry really couldn't blame him much. Wouldn't anyone ogle it if given a chance? You didn't see that kind of ass every day.

"Don't know about you, but my bum's gettin' sore from sittin' on a rock every day at sunset," said Harry as they were driving home.

"It gets a little uncomfortable," concurred Louis. "What do you wanna do about it?"

"Well, look at those wooden chairs there," Harry pointed to the side of the road where two chairs and other household items were set up for sale. "Like the look of 'em?"

"Yeah, those are nice."

So Harry pulled over, paid the man what he was asking, which was very reasonable, and he and Louis loaded the chairs into the bed of the truck.

They got home just in time for sunset. They set the chairs up, and both approved as they stood back and gazed at them. "They look like they belong here," Harry said, and sat down. It was a lot more comfortable than sitting on rocks.

"Did you see that guy staring at you in the restaurant?" asked Harry when they were settled.

"No. What guy?"

"Sittin' on the other side of the room. I think he had the hots for you, but there's another possibility," Harry said carefully.

"Oh c'mon, the hots for me? But what's the other possibility?"

"He had a sinister look. Predator-like."

Louis didn't look alarmed, and that reassured Harry, because he didn't want to frighten Louis. He knew better than anyone, though, how much of a badass Louis was. He wasn't surprised when he couldn't detect a shred of alarm in Louis' eyes.

"Like maybe he's holdin' sommat against me?" Louis asked.

"Yeah, sommat like that. But like I said, it could've also been lust."

Louis shrugged. "Well, he can just bugger off then!"

Harry smiled.

They had a lively conversation, and Louis found that, besides being physically attracted to him, he was liking Harry better all the time. Harry bore no resemblance to the wild- haired and wild-eyed character who had chased him off his property. That went to show you that you couldn't always judge someone by your first impression.

One thing of curiosity was that Louis had thought that he'd grow accustomed to Harry's looks, and wouldn't be as affected by them as time went by. Turned out he'd been about as wrong as a person could be. If anything, Harry was even more attractive to him now. When he turned on his dimples, especially, Louis felt himself becoming boneless and wholly incapable of warding off his tender feelings. On many occasions Louis had found himself avoiding the moment by turning his eyes away. He didn't want Harry to see the naked desire there.

Coming back into the house, they sat in front of the telly. Harry was delighted when Louis made sure their legs were pressed up against each other. He casually eased an arm behind Louis along the top of the couch. He often sat that way, but Louis preferred to think he was kind of, sort of, putting his arm around him, although he knew it couldn't be true.

Harry cleverly watched Louis as Louis watched the telly. He kept his head level, but his eyes lowered, keeping Louis in his vision much of the time. Louis looked up at Harry at intervals, and their eyes seemed to fasten to each other. The length of time they stared at each other? Socially acceptable? Absolutely not. But neither one seemed to care. Still, Louis didn't dare to hope.

Something was brewing, thought Harry. And it had been ever since Louis' mare had set foot on his property. Things felt enjoyable and pleasant between them, but there was something else a lot more potent sizzling below the surface, like a slow burning fire.

Louis told Harry about the new things he was remembering almost on a daily basis now. A dog he'd had at some point in his young life, fuzzy pictures in his head of a couple of friends, a lot of people eating at mealtime. A lot. A whole roomful.

"I think maybe . . . it's possible that . . . you were in a foster home when you were young." Harry didn't know if he should have mentioned it or not. The pieces fit though. He hadn't told Louis of his suspicions before, not knowing how Louis would take it.

"I think you're right," Louis agreed, causing Harry to sigh in relief.

"It had to have been stressful. I think it was probably in England, too."

Louis nodded. "But why do I remember the lady hugging me, on her knees, and feelin' so much love? That wouldn't happen in a foster home, would it?" he asked Harry with wide eyes.

"Well, it could have, but I think it was likely your mother," Harry lowered his voice and said this with great care. "I think you must have lost her early on."

What might have been a bit of sadness touched Louis' eyes for a fleeting moment. "Fuck, Harry! I wish I knew more! This is defeatin' me! I need to know sommat!"

"I know. No reason to feel defeated. We'll know the rest of the story soon enough. I know it feels like forever already to you though."

"I can't even begin to tell you. I feel like the other shoe is gonna drop any time. I can't go on like this."

"Wanna go to the sheriff?"

Louis, exasperated, shook his head firmly. "No. I'd rather hold on a little longer and see how this turns out. When I get all me memory back, I'll know just where I stand."

A spike of frozen fear pierced Harry's chest like ice. This was just what he feared the most. Louis going off into a metaphorical sunset to embrace his happy life with his family, leaving him alone once again.