He strode into the café and up to the hostess stand. “Hi, I’m here to meet my date. There should be a table reserved.”

“Yes.” The hostess smiled. “This way. We’ve prepped the table and I think you’ll enjoy it.” She navigated through the café to the tables by the row of windows. “Here you go.”

He nodded to her and slipped a couple of dollars into her hand. “Thank you.”

“Welcome. I’ll bring your guest when he or she arrives.” She dipped her head, then left the table.

He settled on one of the chairs and willed himself to settle down. He didn’t know who he’d been matched with or how to put the damn flower in his lapel. The whole situation could be good or a disaster.

He opened his napkin and stretched it across his lap, then worked on tucking the flower stem into his buttonhole. He didn’t have any pins and the flower flopped forward. Shit.

The waitress arrived at the table. “Hi. May I get your drink order?”

“Yes.” He left the flower to flop forward in his buttonhole. “I’d like a tea.”

“Hot or iced?”

Did people put sugar in hot tea? “Iced, please?” He spied the sugar packets. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing.” She left him again and he sighed.

He’d arrived and ordered. Now he just needed his date to show up. He drank in the view from his table. He’d never really looked at the interior of the café. So much richly carved wood and elegant tablescapes. Everything matched. Candles stood in the middle of each table and turn-of-the-century paintings decorated the maroon walls. It wasn’t how he’d decorate a room, but if it suited the time period the café wanted to encapsulate, then fine.

“Sir, your table is right this way.” The hostess arrived and demanded his attention.

Shane’s heart fluttered as he met the gaze of his date. “Nik?” His dream man, the guy he’d lusted for since high school stood beside the table with the hostess. Shane couldn’t move, but he grinned. “Nik?”

Nik smiled. “Hi.”