"Yes, sir," the valet replied, but not until he checked to see how much he was being tipped.
Jon turned his attention to Vicki as she took his hand. "Not intimidating. Just warning," he pointed out quietly as he led the way into the place.
"Intimidating," she insisted through a grin, blue eyes sparkling as they stepped into the warmth of the hotel lobby. The concierge nodded to them as they passed, the couple turning toward the restaurant.
"Do you know how much that car is worth?" he countered. It wasn't like he couldn't afford to replace it, but he was kind of attached to that one.
Vicki laughed, shaking her head. "Your devotion to your four-wheeled mistress is adorable," she informed him, pulling the room key from her bag to show the maitre'd, who smiled, collected a couple of menus, and moved automatically to show them to their table.
"Hey, we've been together a long time," he said, though he didn't - couldn't - remember picking her out or buying her. "You know, as much as I love that little black dress, it isn't very practical in winter," he whispered, having noticed the shiver she had tried and failed to hide.
"Practicality is not particularly sexy when the goal is getting you hot and bothered before we reach privacy," she murmured back, unsurprised he had noticed. For all that she teased him, she loved that Jon never missed even the smallest hint of her comfort.
"Oh, I see. So that's your goal," he murmured back, with a smirk of amusement. The truth was it didn't take much for her to get him hot and bothered, but he appreciated the effort. "I will have fun peeling you out of it later," he whispered back, for her ears only.
"Would you rather I'd shown up in a fur-lined catsuit?" she asked innocently, slipping out of his jacket now they were in the warm so she could take the seat the maitre'd was holding for her.
He coughed to cover up his shocked laughter at her remark. "Could you?" he asked, grinning at her once the shock wore off. He didn't wait for the maitre'd to offer him a chair, but slid into the one across from her.
"Baby, I have direct access to the Miranda," she reminded him. "That woman could make anything in the space of three days."
Momentarily distracted by the image of his wife in a form-fitting catsuit that hugged all the right places, he blinked out of his thoughts before his imagination got the best of him. "We'll have to put that on the list," he said, offering a nod to the maitre'd as he took his menu.
"Whatever you say, darling." She flicked him a knowing smile as she opened her menu, lowering her eyes demurely to the written words as that smile became a wicked smirk.
He, too, smirked, knowing her well enough to know she would act on that suggestion sooner or later. "So, what is Ms. Vegetarian having tonight?" he asked, as he turned his attention to the menu.
"Ms. Vegetarian has been looking forward to the mushroom and truffle risotto all day, thank you very much," she answered easily. It was one of the good things about being a vegetarian - less to choose from on nights out.
He visibly winced at her choice. Though he was accustomed to her diet, it was the one thing they had never had in common. She might accuse him of being a barbarian from time to time, but he was not giving up his meat. "Good choice, if you're a vegetarian," he murmured. As for himself, he was considering the surf and turf.
"You're such a snob about my food choices," she laughed, setting her menu aside as the waiter arrived to deliver a carafe of iced water and take their order. "When have I ever pulled a face while you inhale half a bird in front of me?"
"First of all, I don't inhale," he pointed out. "And second of all, I am a carnivore and proud of it." Or maybe he was an omnivore; he wasn't too sure, but he'd made his point. He turned to the waiter to place their order, including a bottle of their best chardonnay.
"That is just culinary way of letting me know you're a red-blooded male, and believe me, sweetheart, I know," she answered impishly, handing over her menu as the waiter stepped away from the table.
"And you wouldn't have me any other way," he countered, knowing her well enough to know that. It hardly mattered, of course, what he ate, but that wasn't the point.
"Oh, darling, I'll have you any way I can get you, and you know it." Grinning, she relaxed into her seat, pouring glasses of water for them both.
"So you've told me multiple times," he reminded her, mirroring her grin. He was curious how she liked him best, but that hardly mattered either.
"You want me to stop telling you?" she asked innocently, batting her lashes at him across the table. It probably didn't help that, under the table, she had removed one shoe and was teasing his shin with her toes - a clear sign of what she was going to do to him if they sat here for too long.
"Uh ..." he murmured distractedly, looking briefly around to make sure no one was watching. She was certainly good for his ego, among other things. "You're the one who said you were starving, remember?"
"Mmhmm." Her agreement was warm and wicked, eyes dancing with mischief as her toes stroked up to his knee and back down again. "Something wrong, stud muffin?"
"You are an evil woman, Victoria Granger," he whispered back, a smirk on his face that said he didn't really mind her attention, even if it made him squirm a little. "Just remember, I need some sustenance if you want me to go the distance."
"Oooh, zero to hero tonight, huh?" She giggled, taking pity on him as the waiter brought the wine. Jon was so much fun to tease, but she was not above stretching it out for as long as possible.
"Would you have it any other way?" he asked, teasing her back. He wasn't about to take his shoes off and do the same, but he would be sure to return the favor later. He tasted the wine and murmured his approval to the waiter, but his attention was clearly on the woman across the table from him.