Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
Brie sat on the couch looking into her compact mirror. She’d applied deep rose lipstick that brought out the color of her eyes. The bedroom door opened behind her.
She saw Hunter in the compact mirror first. He was a stranger in a charcoal suit. The jacket emphasized his broad shoulders, tapered to his narrow waist. The white shirt made his skin look more tanned. Brie stood and turned slowly toward him as he adjusted his cuffs.
The air between them felt charged, like the moment before a lightning strike. Her bear pushed against her skin, wanting to get closer.
“You look...” Her voice came out breathless.
“I haven’t worn this suit in two years.” He smoothed his hands down the jacket. His eyes traveled over her slowly, taking in the black dress that hugged her curves. For once, he didn’t try to hide his appreciation. “You look gorgeous.”
Heat crept up her neck at the intensity of his gaze. “You clean up pretty well yourself,” she managed, reaching out to straighten his tie even though it didn’t need it.
He caught her hand against his chest, holding it there. Through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel his heart beating.
“I’m nervous,” he admitted. “Haven’t done this in... I can’t even remember.”
The confession melted something in her chest. “Me too.”
His thumb stroked across her knuckles, and they stood there for a moment, just breathing each other in. The coldness that had defined their early interactions was nowhere to be found.
His cellphone alarm went off, breaking the spell. He pulled it from his pocket and turned it off.
“We should get going,” he said, though he seemed reluctant to release her hand. “Our reservation’s at seven.”
She nodded, already missing his touch as he stepped away.
Hunter crossed to where she’d draped her coat over a chair.
He held it up for her to slip on, and his hands lingered on her shoulders.
She couldn’t help leaning back so she could feel his chest behind her.
He let out a strangled sigh and pulled her closer.
“Let’s go,” he whispered into the soft hairs at her neck, making goosebumps erupt on her skin.
Outside, the November air bit at her cheeks. She grasped his arm, and the muscle tensed under her touch. At the truck, he opened her door and helped her inside.
“I’m excited for tonight,” she said as he pulled out of his parking space.
He glanced at her, then back at the road. “Should have done this sooner. Should have...” He squeezed her hand. “I’m not good at this part. The feelings part.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
The drive was forty-five minutes, leaving them in their own little world.
It was just them and the dark road. It made her bear purr with satisfaction.
The lodge glowed warm against the mountain when they arrived, its windows casting golden light on the parking lot.
Inside, the lobby wrapped them in warmth, rich wood, soft lighting, and the faint scent of wood smoke from the massive fireplace.
The hostess led them through the dining room. It buzzed with conversation, clinking glasses, and silverware against china. Hunter pulled out her chair when they arrived at their corner table with a view of the lake, leaning close as she sat.
“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess said, leaving them leather-bound menus.
Brie opened hers, grateful for something to focus on besides the way Hunter filled out his suit. The menu was extensive, steaks, seafood, pasta. The wine list took up two full pages.
Their server, a young man with an eager smile, appeared at their table. “Good evening, I’m Tyler. Can I start you with something to drink? We have an excellent selection of local wines.”
Brie scanned the wine list. “The Rogue Valley Pinot Noir?”
“Excellent choice. I’ll bring that right out.
And let me tell you about our specials tonight.
” Tyler gestured enthusiastically. “We have pan-seared halibut with lemon beurre blanc, served with roasted fingerling potatoes. The elk tenderloin comes with a huckleberry reduction that’s absolutely divine.
And our vegetarian option is butternut squash ravioli in brown butter sage sauce. ”
“Sounds delicious,” Brie said.
“Take your time.”
When Tyler left, she returned to the menu. “The salmon looks good. Or maybe the filet mignon. What are you having?”
“Ribeye. Medium rare.” A small smile played at his lips.
She studied the menu again. “I think the salmon. I haven’t had good fish in weeks.”
Tyler returned, and they ordered. Brie took her first sip of wine. It was rich, earthy, with hints of cherry and blackberry. The warmth spread through her chest, loosening some of her tension.
“Tell me something about you that has nothing to do with work,” she said.
He considered. “I rebuild motorcycles.”
“Really?”
“Now that the crew has settled down, I can work on my 1973 Triumph Bonneville.”
“Is that bike special?”
“My dad had one.” His thumb traced the base of his wine glass. “Sold it when I was sixteen to pay medical bills. Always wanted to bring one back.”
Their salads arrived, mixed greens with candied walnuts and pear slices. Brie speared a piece of pear. The sweetness burst on her tongue, mixing perfectly with the tangy vinaigrette.
“Your turn,” Hunter said. “Tell me something non-bakery.”
“I do watercolor paintings.” She felt shy admitting it.
“What do you paint?”
“The mountain, mostly. The view from my apartment at different times of day.”
“I’d like to see them.”
“We can arrange that,” she said, trying not to blush.
Their entrees arrived. The salmon was perfectly cooked, flaky and moist with a crispy skin that crackled under her fork.
The lemon beurre blanc was rich but light, with just enough acidity to cut through the fish’s richness.
She watched Hunter cut into his ribeye, the meat perfectly pink inside, juices pooling on the plate.
“How is it?” she asked.
“Good.” He cut another piece, held his fork out to her. “Try it.”
She leaned forward, accepting the bite. The meat was tender, perfectly seasoned, the char adding a smoky depth that made her want another taste immediately. Their eyes met as she pulled back, and something electric passed between them.
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.
An older couple was being seated beside them.
The man pulled out his wife’s chair, waited for her to settle, then walked around to his own seat.
Once seated, they immediately reached across the table for each other’s hands, a gesture that spoke of decades together.
“My parents are like that,” Brie said. “Thirty-five years together and they still look at each other like teenagers.” Hunter followed her gaze to the couple. “Did your parents have that?” she asked, then immediately worried she’d overstepped. “Sorry, you don’t have to…”
“They did, actually.” His expression softened with memory.
“Until my mom died when I was fifteen. Dad kind of crumbled after losing his mate.” He paused, turning his wine glass slowly.
“Made me wonder…” She could feel him working up to something important.
“Over the years, I convinced myself I didn’t have a mate. ”
“Why?”
“After seeing what happened to my dad when he lost mom, I think I was protecting myself.” He set down his glass. “I started believing I was one of those shifters who just... didn’t get one.”
She reached out to take his hand. His fingers were warm as they interlaced with hers.
Tyler appeared. “How is everything?”
“Perfect,” Brie said, not looking away from Hunter.
“Can I interest you in dessert? We have an incredible molten chocolate cake.”
Hunter finally broke eye contact. “One chocolate cake. Two forks.”
When it arrived, the chocolate oozed from the center, dark and glossy. The vanilla ice cream on top was already starting to melt, creating rivers of white through the chocolate. Brie took a bite, closing her eyes at the intensity.
Bitter chocolate, sweet cream, and salt that made everything pop. When she opened her eyes, Hunter was watching her with an expression that made heat pool in her belly.