8. Rune #3
"Don't worry about it, baby," Raquel said. "The reason is I was wasted and making damn fool choices. And my friends , instead of stopping me, thought it'd be funny to egg my drunk ass on."
I slung an arm around her shoulders. "Raquel, you know we wouldn't have let you do anything too bad. You did indeed have pasties on, and underwear, and even though you were three sheets to the wind, you still kicked that girl's ass in the dance-off."
"Damn right I did," she muttered.
We arrived at the restaurant, then. It was designed to look like a hunting lodge, with lots of heavy live-edge logs, a green metal roof, and lots of glass.
Inside had the feel of an upscale steakhouse—low lighting, deep booths of rich leather, tea lights on the table, a quiet, slow-moving atmosphere, and a live pianist playing tinkling covers of top pop hits.
Servers in all black with long aprons glided this way and that, carrying round trays of drinks and oval trays of food. Conversation was a low hubbub at best.
Raquel's eyes were gleaming. "This place is gorgeous , Duncan!"
He shrugged. "Feels weird to say thanks, since I didn't have anything to do with it.
I was only a year or so out of high school when Delia moved up here to revamp this place.
" He looked around, assessing, and nodded.
"It is very nice. Looks like it's running well, too. " He paused. "Ah, here's Rebecca."
A woman in her early thirties approached us—she had black hair, blue eyes, and was wearing a black pencil skirt, low pumps, and a silk maroon blouse; she had a clipboard in one arm.
"Duncan! Great to see you again!" She greeted Duncan with a professional handshake. "And you must be Hamish and Raquel. I'm Rebecca, the manager. Welcome to Badd's Fine Dining, you guys. I have to say, we're so pleased to host your wedding. We have everything ready to go. Would you like to see?"
Raquel nodded eagerly. "Yes, I would, very much."
She showed us the kitchen and introduced us to Anton, the head chef, and then escorted us to the back room—a capacious space big enough to hold at least a hundred people.
Long tables lined a far wall, draped in spotless white tablecloths, topped with trays waiting for burners and food.
A dozen large round tables dotted the middle of the room, also draped in white, and a temporary parquet dance floor took up a quarter of the space at one end of the room, with the DJ booth nearby.
A set of double doors led out to the back patio, which was where the wedding itself would be held.
The restaurant was at the edge of town, on a large lot with a wide swath of verdant lawn behind the building.
An arch wreathed in white roses stood at one end of the green space, with several rows of folding chairs facing it, an aisle running between the blocks of chairs to the double doors.
Raquel stopped at the arch, looking around with watery eyes. "It's perfect! It's even better than our venue in Ketchikan. Isn't it, Hamish?"
Hamish nodded, his expression shuttered and serious—hiding his emotions, I think. "Aye, it is. It's right lovely. You've done a fine, fine job, Rebecca, and our thanks to you and your staff for puttin’ this on in such short notice."
Rebecca beamed with pride. "For a long time, the back room was wasted space—it was originally designed to be an extra dining space, but no one ever wanted to be this far from the main room.
It was my idea to host weddings here. The fortunate thing for you is that we had a last-minute cancellation, beyond the point of refunding and returning everything, so we had all of this on hand already.
It was just a matter of setting it up." She looked around, taking in the space.
“Is there anything you'd like changed, removed, or added? "
Raquel shook her head, sniffling and swiping a finger under her eyes. “No, no. It's absolutely perfect. The centerpieces are just adorable."
Each table, back in the event room, held a glass jar filled with tiny twinkling white string lights, baby's breath, and a live lily, surrounded by pink rose petals. Once evening had fallen and the lights were dimmed, the effect would be magical, I was sure.
Raquel, Hamish, and Rebecca headed to the kitchen to go over the menu, which left Duncan and me to our own devices.
It was awkwardly silent for a few minutes.
"Uh, you…you don't remember making out, do you?" Duncan asked, eventually, sounding sheepish. “Because I don't. Sadly."
I shook my head, wincing at him. "No, I don't either."
He sighed in relief. "Glad I'm not the only one. I'd have really felt like a dick."
I glanced at him. "Duncan, be real with me. Why are you doing all this for people you don't know?"
He shrugged, but spent a few moments thinking before answering. "To be honest, you."
"Me?" My heart twisted and clenched at his answer. "Meaning?"
Another shrug. "I dunno, Rune. It all just sorta…snowballed. You needed a date to the wedding, and I had nothing going on this weekend. I'd probably have ended up pulling an extra shift or two."
"I really don't mean this as a dig, so please don't take it as one, but you don't have much of a social life, do you?" I asked.
He laughed ruefully, shaking his head. "Nah, not really. All my friends from school and football moved. I go out once in a while. I date."
I snickered. "Date means hookup, though, right?"
He arched an eyebrow at me. "Sometimes. Is that a problem?"
I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender. "No! Not at all."
"Rune." His tone said he didn't believe me.
I sighed. "Fine. I’m judging a little bit, but only because my experience with men is that they're all players.
I guess…I…" I paused and thought. "Maybe I'm unfairly judging you based on my own experiences, but I've learned that players are gonna play.
A guy who's smooth and charming and experienced…
like you…doesn't usually have much of a relationship with truth, honesty, and fidelity.
That's my experience. I'm not saying you're like that, Duncan, I swear.
Although that was my initial impression of you. "
He didn't answer for a minute. "I'm not smooth."
“Yeah, you are. You've got lines, Duncan."
"They're not lines, Rune. I'm just saying what I think.
" He rubbed the back of his neck, and my stupid eyes couldn't help watching the way his big, thick bicep shifted and rippled as he moved his arm; yum yum.
"I understand the impression you may have gotten, though.
It's true I don't typically do relationships, but honestly, it's only because I haven’t met anyone I’ve been interested in enough to give a real relationship a try. I’m not a player. I'm really not."
"Have you ever had a serious girlfriend?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Nah. I dated a girl for six months my senior year, but that's it. We graduated, and she moved to Chicago for school."
"Since then?"
"Since then there's never been anyone I was serious about. There was this girl who worked at the Kitty over the summer last year, before I was the GM. Shannon. I really liked her. But it was a summer job, and she made it clear she wasn’t staying past the season.
" He glanced at me, his expression curious.
"You think less of me because I've never been in love? "
I thought about this. "No, I don't. I just personally have always liked being in a relationship. I've hooked up randomly here and there between relationships, but…" I trailed off.
"But what?" Duncan pressed.
"But in my experience, hookup sex isn't as good as relationship sex."
He frowned thoughtfully. “Really? Why, do you think?"
"Hmmm. That's hard to answer."
"But you've clearly thought about it some. Or talked to one of your girlfriends about it," he said.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Both. I talk to my friend Lindsey about pretty much everything.
I guess…" I thought some more. "I guess it's about emotions, for me.
I'm not a prude—clearly. But I just…in a relationship, there's an emotional connection.
I can enjoy sex without that, but it's better with it.
It's deeper, and that's not an innuendo or anything.
When you're with someone for a longer period of time, in my experience, at least, your sexual relationship changes as your emotional one does, naturally enough.
It grows. You learn things about each other.
There's a certain…comfort, I suppose, in sharing that with the same person for a long time. "
Duncan was silent for a long time, processing this. "Honestly, Rune, no bullshit—with you and me…is it hookup sex?"
My heart did a somersault. I swallowed hard. "I don't know, Duncan. That's the honest answer. We haven’t had actual sex yet, for one thing. But…" I sighed. "If I wasn't going back to LA, yes, I think you and I could have something. Which I think is what you're getting at."
He sighed at this. "I appreciate the honesty. I guess a lot of me wishes you didn’t have to go back to LA. At least, not so soon."
I swallowed hard. "Duncan, god. Don’t go there. Please? Can we just…can we not?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I got you." He stood up. “I’m gonna go check on…um. Things."
I watched him go, trying to ignore the way certain non-physical parts of me ached at the obvious conflict in Duncan. At the fact that part of me wished the same thing.
I let him go, though.
And I wondered if sharing a room and bed for the next two nights might be more problematic than I’d originally expected.