Chapter 30 #2
As they drove to The Food Alchemist, a small farm-to-table place just on the edge of downtown Luview, out by the old hot springs, they listened to an old Ella Fitzgerald mp3 he thought might be perfect for the date. Something soft and smooth, comforting and pleasant, but cool, not staid.
“You’ve never been to this restaurant?”
“Are you kidding me?” Her eyes were shining. “No. Perry talked about it once–” She clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with regret. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Talking about him.”
“Why can't you talk about him?” Even though I think he's a jerk, he thought but didn't say.
“Who talks about their ex on a date?”
“Fair enough.” Luke cleared his throat, nose tickled by her perfume. It made him want to bury his nose in her hair.
And bury himself in her.
“But we can talk about Amber, of course.”
He tensed. “Why would we?”
“Because, well–it's different. I didn't want you to feel like you couldn't. Just because I'm not talking about Perry and–oh! I did it again. I said his name. I'm sorry. I–”
With his free hand, he grabbed hers.
“Kylie. Breathe. It's okay.”
She let out a huge puff of air. “I'm really bad at dating.”
“That makes two of us.”
“What? You're great! You smell so good. And you look so hot when you dress like that. I can't believe you asked me out.”
“I can't believe you said yes.”
“I feel like I'm fifteen again, Luke. This is crazy.”
“We're not those kids anymore.”
“I know. I think there are two Kylies in my head. The one on that pier, and the one in this car.”
He squeezed her hand lightly before returning both of his to the steering wheel for safety. “I like them both.”
Because the restaurant was on the side of town closer to Kylie's place, right on the edge of the hot springs, the drive was fairly short.
Luke caught someone backing out of a parking spot just in time, scoring a place right in front of the main door.
Parking wasn't usually a problem in late December in Luview, but The Food Alchemist had exactly twelve tables and only eight spots in their little parking area.
Once in a while, the timing was off.
Decorated for the season, the cottage looked like a Christmas wonderland.
You couldn't tell in the dark night, but it was painted the palest pink with white trim, darker pink shutters and white rocking chairs finishing the country look.
Strings of white incandescent bulbs stretched in long lines from lamp posts in the parking lot to the edge of the cottage's roof, lighting the walk from car to restaurant with an ethereal glow.
Luke took Kylie's hand in his as they entered the small restaurant. Bo Bilbee instantly greeted them. All of seventeen, he was like a male puppy: nothing but big hands, big feet, and super eager to please.
But awkward. So awkward.
“Oh! It's you!” he blurted out, eyes glued to Kylie.
Luke waited for it.
One.
Two.
Three.
A bright red blush covered Bo's face like a relief map being filled in.
“Luview. Reservation for two,” Luke said in an authoritative voice that made Bo literally jump in place, startled, as if he'd only noticed Luke just now.
“Right. Of course. Welcome to The Food Alchemist,” he said formally. “Have you folks been here before?”
Luke fixed him with a flat stare.
“Why are you acting like you don't know me, Bo? You know I was here for my dad's birthday two months ago. You served the bread.”
“Uh,” he said, glancing at Kylie, who gave a polite smile. “Training. We're trained to say that. We can't assume we know someone's been here, so we ask everyone.”
“LUKE!” Sheila Bilbee, Bo's mother, called out his name, waving slightly. “We have your table, right on the water. Come on back.”
Clapping Bo on the back exactly once, Luke left him at the hostess stand, careful to put his hand on the small of Kylie's back. The possessive gesture was unnecessary, but it sure felt good.
The table was perfect. Sheila and Blake Bilbee opened The Food Alchemist a good ten years ago, buying the old broken-down information booth that the town abandoned decades ago and turning it into a fine little restaurant.
Unlike the taverns in town, which served pub food, or coffee shops and diners, The Food Alchemist had a scratch kitchen, and Blake was devoted to clean cooking.
No preservatives, no chemicals, and as much local produce, meat, and dairy as possible.
Blake had trained at the Culinary Institute of America, and the place got rave reviews from Zagat's and the various food magazines and websites.
None of that mattered to Luke as he helped Kylie out of her coat, breathing in her scent. Sheila took both of their coats and Luke held his date's chair as she sat.
His hands shook a little.
What was wrong with him?
Bo appeared with water, a tray of lemon slices, and various kinds of bread. Pouring olive oil, he doctored it with ground pepper and something that looked like red flakes, then disappeared with a partial bow.
Kylie looked at Luke across the table, her smile softening, sinking deeper and deeper into an intimacy between them that made his heart simultaneously gallop and relax.
She reached for a piece of bread and dipped it in the oil, her other hand cupped underneath it.
As she bit into it, her face showed how much she enjoyed the flavor.
He loved watching her experience pleasure.
“Good?”
“Mmmm.”
“I'll take that as a yes.” Soon he joined her, and the quiet between them as they ate was a peaceful one.
Until Bo arrived to tell them the specials.
“For our fish this evening, we have wild-caught North Atlantic salmon in a reduced fig and salt licorice sauce, with grilled fennel and chipotle-lime, with a hint of maple. For our land meat, we have,” he said, brow twisting as he clearly forgot his script.
A tiny note tucked into his sleeve came to the rescue, cheat notes making Luke smother a grin.
“We have beef bourguignon in a rich red wine sauce, served with sauteed mushrooms, caramelized onion and pork belly lardons, and as always, Mom’s prime rib with gratin dauphinois and roasted asparagus.” Bo winced. “I mean, the chef's prime rib.”
“That all sounds amazing,” Kylie declared.
“You look amazing,” Luke replied.
Bo skedaddled.
And Luke reached across the table for Kylie's hand.
Her eyes swept the room in an arc. “People will see us.”
“Good. Let them.”
“We're really doing this?”
His thumb found a soft spot between her knuckles. “Am I doing it wrong?”
“No!” Her chin dipped down, big eyes looking up at him, fingers tightening against his thumb. “Absolutely not.”
“Good. Because I haven't been on a date in forever. Wondered if I'd forgotten how.”
“I think it's like riding a bike.”
“That's so much easier!”
“Look at you two lovebirds,” Blake Bilbee said, suddenly next to them, handing out menus.
Blake was two years older than Dennis, so while they were cousins, Luke had never crossed paths with him in school.
He and Sheila had gotten pregnant with Bo when they were still pretty young, but they’d stuck it out, carefully working their way to their shared goal: success in the restaurant world and the freedom of owning The Food Alchemist.
Didn't hurt that her dad was rolling in it after selling some land to developers just outside of Luview, and bankrolled the restaurant. But Luke knew Blake and Sheila hadn’t had it easy, and were good people.
“Cut it out,” Luke grumped at him, Kylie suppressing a smile.
“Hi! I'm Kylie,” she said to Blake, who looked at the hand she was offering like it was a dead snake.
“I'd have to be comatose not to know who you are.” He winked at her, then took her in just carefully enough to make Luke's hackles start to rise.
“Let me guess,” Blake continued. “You're a salmon.”
“I'm a... what?”
“A salmon. When you eat a fine meal, you always order salmon.”
“How did you know?”
“It's a gift.”
“He's right,” she said to Luke. “What about him?”
“Luke? Luke's a prime rib guy. Every time.”
Handing him the menu, Luke shook his head. “Why bother with these?” he said as Blake took Kylie's. “Why don't you just tell people what they want?”
“Life works that way? I can do that? Great.” Blake shot Luke a mischievous grin. “Then don't officially get together until January 6. That $450 could pay for part of an espresso machine upgrade.”
Before Luke could growl at him, the guy was gone, snickering.
An epic eye roll from Kylie made Luke burst into laughter he didn't know he could access so quickly.
“I think we need to find out the range of dates for this betting pool and pick one nobody took, no matter how long it takes.”
“You sound like a sure thing.” He took a sip of his water with the hand that wasn't currently enjoying caressing hers.
“What if we wait two years and show them all?”
A spit take on the first date was definitely not the best way to start a relationship.
“I think there has to be a better way we can all get what we need,” he said carefully, her warm amusement making them both hold eye contact.
Teenage Luke and Kylie couldn't hold a candle to this.
A wave of emotion washed over him.
This was real.
This was happening.
And it felt better than he ever imagined.
For two years, he'd held his heart back, never wanting to let it out of the safe space he'd slowly carved out inside himself.
Always mourning Amber, that first year had been torture.
Focusing on Harriet was safe. Ignoring the women who came on to him was safe.
Being a good police officer, a good neighbor, a good son, a good brother–it meant that he never took risks with his heart.
And then he found Kylie Hood trapped in a steel donation bin.
As it turned out, using those bolt cutters on the lock that night hadn't just been about releasing her from a prison she didn't mean to be in.
It was about unlocking his heart, too.
“Luke?”
“Mmm?” Her hand moved, fingers threading in his on the table.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Violating Number 14, Part A.”