Chapter 22
The rest of the week was a whirlwind for Mia. She prepared most of the food for the farmers’ market and Sunday’s event and now it was Friday night. Her feet ached, and her shoulders were tight, but there was a sense of anticipation she hadn’t felt in a long time.
She looked at her watch. Five o’clock. Caleb was picking her up at six thirty for drinks and taking her somewhere with live music and maybe a shared plate if they were hungry.
Casual. No pressure. She could handle casual.
Probably. Mia hurried over to the farmhouse, prepared a light dinner for her dad, snacked on some cheese and crackers and raced upstairs to shower and dress.
The shower didn’t take long. Dressing, though? That was another story. It’d been so long since she had been on a date, she had forgotten how to dress.
She stood in front of her closet, a towel wrapped around her and crossed her arms. What to wear? This wasn’t dinner at a swanky restaurant, so the new little black dress with the slit up to there was out. Maybe the mid-length flowery skirt with a top would be nice. But then again …
Mia huffed. She didn’t need to drive herself crazy over this.
If Caleb didn’t like what she was wearing, that was his problem.
She pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans and the new taupe-rose long-sleeved silk blouse she’d bought on a whim.
After one look in the mirror, she grabbed a pair of black heels.
She checked her reflection again and smiled.
Sexy without trying too hard. Comfortable enough to breathe.
Perfect. She barely recognized the happy woman looking back at her.
Now all she had to do was put her hair into a loose, low ponytail, add a touch of makeup, a spritz of perfume, and she was ready.
Six thirty on the dot, the doorbell rang.
Mia opened the door. And stared. For a moment, she forgot how to speak.
Caleb frowned slightly. “Do I look okay? Because you look fantastic.”
Mia’s pulse skipped a beat. Oh. Oh my. Caleb looked more than okay.
He looked like sex on a stick in a blue button-down with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, the shirt fitted just enough to hint at muscle without showing off.
The collar was open at the throat, relaxed and confident.
Khaki slacks sat low on his hips, and well-worn brown leather shoes completed the outfit.
“Well,” she said, managing a smile. “You clean up nicely.”
He let out a soft huff of a laugh. “You’ve seen me covered with sawdust. This has to be better.”
Mia laughed. She had—and he’d looked sexy then, too. “I didn’t want to say anything. You might get a swelled head.”
“Is that Caleb?” her father called out from inside.
“Come in, say hello to Dad,” Mia said, stepping aside. “Then we can be on our way.”
Her father looked up from his chair, eyes brightening. “Caleb. Good to see you.”
“Good evening, sir,” Caleb said easily.
Her dad nodded toward the new barn. “Barn’s looking good. Roy still working out?”
Mia felt a flicker of unease. Of course, that’s what he would ask. Work always grounded him.
“Yeah. He’s putting in long hours.” Caleb shifted slightly. “He’s been solid. Knows his way around the place.”
Her dad grunted, satisfied. “Good. Farm needs someone steady.” His gaze flicked between them, a twinkle in his eye. “You two headed out?”
Mia grabbed her jacket. “Just drinks.”
“Well.” He smiled at Caleb. “Bring her back in one piece.”
Caleb’s mouth curved. “That’s the plan.”
Mia kissed her dad on the top of his head and turned to leave.
When they got to Caleb’s truck, he helped her into the cab and hopped in the driver’s seat.
“I thought it’d be fun to go to Fat Jack’s Roadhouse. It’s casual, has music, pool if we’re in the mood.”
Mia nodded. “I’ve heard great things about it but never been there.”
“Great.”
They talked about work and the farmers’ market, the party barn and how fast the weeks seemed to be flying by as he followed the road out of town.
The Roadhouse parking lot was full but not packed, and Caleb found a spot easily.
He jumped out and opened her door, offering a hand to help her down.
Drums, electric guitars and voices of patrons filtered into the lot.
It sounded like a party, and they weren’t even inside yet. Her nerves settled. This felt easy.
Caleb took her hand and led her inside. Mia stepped into a cavernous room anchored by a long wooden bar.
Booths and tables lined the perimeter, and several couples were already dancing in the space near the center, moving easily to the music.
The place smelled faintly of beer, fried food and polished wood.
Comfortable and familiar, like it’d been there forever.
“I see a booth in the corner.” Caleb took her elbow and guided her through the crowd, dodging a couple of enthusiastic dancers.
She slipped in, and Caleb settled across from her, stretching one arm along the backrest.
Mia glanced around, taking it all in. “I would never have known this was here,” she said. “It’s a perfect location. Close enough to town but far enough away that the music won’t bother anyone.”
A busty blonde walked over with menus and glasses of water.
“Caleb! Haven’t seen you here in a while,” she said brightly, setting the glasses down.
He cocked his head. “Been busy.” He glanced at Mia. “Sunny, this is Mia Whitmore. Mia, Sunny Jacks, the owner.”
Sunny frowned, studying Mia’s face. “Whitmore? Whitmore … where have I heard that name before?”
Mia shrugged. She sure as hell didn’t know Sunny.
“Oh my!” Sunny’s face lit up. “You’re Hal Whitmore’s daughter. I didn’t know you were back. How is your dad? I haven’t seen him in … well, a long time. He was good friends with my husband, Jack.”
Her gaze dropped briefly to the table, then lifted again. Her grin widened. “And Plated Perfection? That’s yours, isn’t it? I’ve heard only good things. The farmers’ market, the fundraiser at the Foundry … people haven’t stopped talking about your food. I just never put the name together.”
“Thank you,” Mia said. “That means a lot.”
Sunny left the menus on the table. “Well, you’re in good hands tonight. I’ll send someone over in a minute.” She winked at Caleb. “Don’t be a stranger.”
As Sunny walked off, Caleb shook his head. “See? Famous.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Hardly. But I didn’t get a wink,” she teased.
Caleb laughed. “Sunny is like that with everyone she knows. But as she likes to say, Jack was her one and only.”
“That’s so romantic.”
He nodded. Mia couldn’t help thinking about her dad. He never looked at another woman either after her mother died.
“Changing the subject,” Caleb started. “Tell me about Roy. What does he do around the farm? How did he get the job?”
Mia sighed. “Roy has been around since high school.” She explained about their dads and how her father took him under his wing. “He’s capable enough. Although not ambitious.”
“I overheard you the other day. Everything okay with him?”
She shrugged. “He’s been a little defensive since I came back. My father pays him to do certain things around the farm; I pay him to help me with some of the catering chores. Either is kind of a hit or miss.”
Caleb leaned back slightly in the booth. “You trust him?”
The question wasn’t intrusive, just careful.
“I do,” she said. “He’s good with my dad. That matters.”
“I hear you.” And she believed he meant it. He slid a menu over. “What are you drinking?”
Mia glanced toward the bar. “Something easy. I see they have craft beers from Cypress Swamp Brewery on tap.”
“That name’s new to me,” Caleb said. “Have you had any of their beer?”
Mia nodded. “I met Shane Holloway, the owner, at a tasting. I think he’s been open for about a year. The brewery is in a converted citrus packing shed tucked off a two-lane road just outside town, and I believe he offers tastings occasionally.”
“Humph. Sounds like a place the guys would like to try.” He looked at the menu. “They have several kinds listed here. What would you like to try?”
“I’m going with Backwater Blonde. It’s lighter, but you might like a heartier, full-body brew like the Cypress Swamp Smoke Porter. Dark, rich porter with a hint of smoked malt.” She raised her brows. “Or for a more manly brew, the Gator Tail Stout.”
Caleb grinned. “Sounds like you’ve tried them all.”
“Nah, I’ve only tried these. I like my beer on the light side.”
“Well, I’m throwing in my man card and trying the Gator Tail Stout.” He signaled a server passing by and ordered two beers, then glanced at Mia. “What about appetizers?”
“Tonight’s specials are pretzel bites with beer cheese or, if you want something lighter, grilled shrimp skewers,” the server replied.
“Let’s do one of each.”
Mia smiled. “Perfect.”
The server left, and the band kicked into an upbeat rhythm. A couple nearby jumped up to dance. Mia glanced toward the dance floor. “I like that dancing feels optional.”
“Exactly,” he said, lifting his glass in a mock toast. “Low pressure.”
The sound filled the room without being overwhelming so they could talk over it.
Caleb leaned back. “So. This week busy?”
“You have no idea. I have another event coming up, then a tasting for a wedding. There’re always last-minute changes. It gets kind of crazy sometimes.”
“You love it,” he stated.
She met his gaze. “I do. I’ve always loved to cook, and to be able to earn a living cooking is pretty cool.”
The appetizers arrived hot and fragrant, and when the beers followed a moment later, they finally raised their glasses for real this time.
“Oh my,” she exclaimed, dipping the pretzel into the beer cheese. “This is yummy, although if I ate this every day, I wouldn’t fit through the door.”
“That’s why they have music,” Caleb said. “Keeps people moving.”
“Well, it looks like everyone is having fun on the dance floor.”
“Don’t feel you have to dance.” Caleb followed her gaze. “But it’s an option.”