Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
The sun was beginning to dip low over Deer Creek Falls, casting the lake in gold and softening everything around it—the water, the trees, even the way Garrett’s gaze skimmed over her.
Madison and Garrett were on their way to the Blue Ox, their obligatory date spot, located inside the Deer Creek Falls Resort, which was owned by Garrett’s family.
The stone path meandered from their condos toward the restaurant area. The landscaping was immaculate—native grasses swayed near the stream that cut through the property, the occasional lantern tucked between purple coneflowers and black-eyed Susans.
Garrett didn’t say much, of course. His expression was tight, jaw working like he was grinding his molars into submission.
“You know,” Madison said lightly, breaking the silence, “you’ve been nicer to me lately.”
He glanced at her. “Lately?”
“Don’t ruin it,” she said, nudging his arm. “I was giving you credit.”
A hint of a smile tugged at his mouth. “I’ve always been nice.”
“Mm.” She tilted her head, unconvinced. “Let’s call it . . . selectively nice.”
“That sounds worse.”
“It should.”
He let out a quiet breath that might’ve been a laugh.
Her sandal caught the edge of a crack in the sidewalk, and his hand came to her hip without hesitation, steadying her.
Madison stilled for half a step, her breath catching, but she kept walking. “Thanks.”
Garrett held the door open. They stepped through the side entrance of the Blue Ox, bypassing the resort’s larger conference area.
The restaurant smelled like grilled steak, mushrooms and onions, fresh herbs, and something sweet—like a fresh apple pie cooling somewhere nearby.
As they approached the bar, Madison turned to hang her light jacket on the back of a chair, and Ruth appeared, polished and perfectly timed, like she’d been waiting for her cue.
“There you are!” Ruth beamed. “Oh, I happened to set up a small table in the side room. Cozy, quiet. You’ll love it.”
Garrett muttered something under his breath that sounded like ambush.
Before either of them could protest, Ruth had swept ahead, menus in hand, leading them down a short hallway to a private room with several small tables. It was intimate without being too romantic—soft lighting, candles flickering, a modest bouquet of wildflowers in a mason jar.
“Your server will be right in,” Ruth said. “Enjoy yourselves!”
And then she vanished.
Garrett huffed a quiet laugh before saying, “Think she’s hiding behind the door?”
“Probably,” Madison said brightly, sitting down. “Should we give her something to gossip about?” Eve hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told her the women in this town were matchmaking ninjas.
He ignored her question, sitting across from her with a sigh and reaching for the menu.
A waitress appeared almost instantly, all sunshine and sparkles—literal sparkles along her upper eyelids.
She held a notepad in one hand and wore a practiced smile that somehow still felt genuine.
“Welcome to the Blue Ox! I’m Tessa and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.
Can I just say, you two make a ridiculously cute couple. ”
Garrett gave a tight smile, saying nothing. Madison wanted to comment but held her tongue. May as well let him squirm a little.
They ordered. Garrett went with the steak and roasted vegetables, and she chose the maple-glazed salmon, intrigued by the caramelized crust the waitress described with dramatic flair.
Tessa jotted it all down like it was the most exciting part of her day, then bounced off to put in their order, promising to be back with fresh bread and butter “faster than a Minnesota snowstorm.”
Madison sipped her water. Garrett took a long pull of his own brew, Loon Lager.
“So,” he said eventually, “what’s the angle?”
Madison blinked. “Angle?”
“You bidding on me. Getting me out of the brewery. Enduring my charming company.”
“I told you. I wanted your undivided attention.”
Before they could continue their conversation, their food arrived, and the first few bites passed in silence. Comfortable, not awkward.
It was Garrett who broke the silence.
“You served in the Navy?”
Madison nodded and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Intel, for about six years. Then NCIS. That’s where I spent most of my time—figuring out what didn’t quite add up.”
“That tracks.”
She studied him for a moment. “You know, you’re not the closed book you think you are.”
Garrett didn’t respond, just cut into his steak.
“And you started out in architecture?” she prompted.
He nodded. “Worked in Minneapolis for a few years. For my ex’s father’s firm.”
Madison blinked. “Wait. The ex?”
“The one who dumped me when I quit and started a brewery with Mason? Yeah. That one.”
“She left because you opened a brewery?”
“She left because I stopped fitting into her father’s five-year plan.”
Madison was quiet a moment. “Her loss.”
Garrett shrugged. “Maybe. But it taught me not to mix business with pleasure.”
She decided not to push. But she smiled, just a little.
“I heard from Chloe that you help coach Roman Reynolds’s twin girls,” she said. “Hockey, right?”
Garrett gave a tight nod. “Just a couple hours a week. They’re scrappy. Remind me of myself in middle school. Minus the drama.”
“That’s . . . surprisingly wholesome. And kind of endearing.”
He gave her a look. “Please don’t say endearing.”
The corner of her mouth curled. “I love hockey. I followed a fun AHL team in North Carolina. I prefer AHL, though I try to catch both Minnesota Wild and Frost games now and then.”
“You don’t follow our AHL team?”
“I knew the league had a team in Minnesota, I followed them in high school, but I didn’t know they were still around, to be honest.”
Garrett took a sip of his beer, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Figures. The Blizzard haven’t exactly been making headlines—or sent anyone to the NHL lately.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So, they’re close by?”
“About an hour north of here,” he said, setting down his glass. “A couple of the guys make it down to the Eagle’s Nest during the summer. One of them, Maverick Monroe, is a friend of mine.”
Madison’s eyes widened before she could stop herself. “Wait. The Maverick Monroe?”
Garrett’s smile deepened. “The one and only. He’s back with the team now.”
She nodded, casually reaching for her water. “Huh. That’s cool.” She took a sip, pretending like she hadn’t just had a fan-girl moment.
They finished the last bites of dinner, and their plates were whisked away. Madison finally leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.
“Okay. Ready for the real reason I bid on you?”
Garrett stared at her. Said nothing.
She smirked. “I entered my cider into Brewfest. I’ve developed a dry-hopped apple blend, crisp and clean, and submitted it under the brewery’s name.”
Garrett’s expression didn’t change. “You know what I’m going to say.”
“I know you think cider doesn’t fit the brand.”
“Because it doesn’t.”
“It will when I win.”
“You’re that confident?”
She nodded. “If I place first, second, third, or receive a special mention, I want it on tap. Limited run. Seasonal. Try it. No commitment.” She was open to negotiating and hoped Garrett would take the bait.
He leaned back and tapped his finger on the table.
Gotcha.
“If the cider places first or second,” he said.
Madison lifted her glass. “Deal.”
He frowned. “You agreed too fast.”
“Maybe I’m just that good.”
He didn’t smile. But something in his eyes softened.
“Fine. But you need to do something for me,” he added. “You attend the festival business meetings in my place. If I have to endure cider, you have to endure the strong, bold women of this town.”
He gestured vaguely in her direction—one of those sweeping, all-encompassing motions.
Madison’s brow lifted. “Did you just gesture at me like I’m a problem to be solved?”
Garrett blinked.
She made a small, sweeping motion of her own. “Feels very How to Train Your Dragon. You know, when Stoick gestures to Hiccup”—she lowered her voice, doing her best impression of Gerard Butler—“ ‘This is why I’m taking you to dragon training.’ ”
His lips twitched.
She shook her head, keeping her expression neutral even as something warm sparked in her chest. “I’d be honored to.”
Right then Ruth returned, balancing a tray with two plates of perfectly cut carrot cake topped with thick cream cheese frosting and two cups of coffee.
“I thought you might want something sweet to celebrate your little agreement,” she said, practically glowing.
Madison smiled up at her. “Ruth, you’re a visionary.”
“I do my best,” she said, already bustling out of the room. “Oh, and Madison—we’d love to have you at the meeting. We meet Thursday at Turner Books, in the back room.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, Garrett stared at the cake. “You’ve played right into her hands.”
Madison picked up her fork. “Oh, I know. And I’m enjoying it.”
Garrett looked at her, eyes sharp, skeptical, and a little impressed.
Now, she needed to win!