stunning view of the mountains and the lake or the room itself. The room had the same vaulted ceiling and rustic beams as the rest of the house. A long antique farm table sat atop a gorgeous rug of turquoise, reds, and browns woven in an intricate Native American design. The two end chairs were upholstered in a soft nubby turquoise fabric. The six side chairs were all different, all antique and perfectly restored in varying shades of natural finishes to complement the deep rich honey-colored beams.
In the middle of the table was a huge round wooden tray with a dozen flickering oil lanterns of various sizes. The chandelier that hung over the table was a tangle of antlers wrapped in tiny white twinkling lights.
“You like it?” He set the wine bottles on the table.
“There you go again with those questions. Of course, Beck, it’s gorgeous.” He seated me in one of the end chairs, then made another trip to the kitchen and put our plates on the table.
“Tonight madam,” he put my napkin in my lap, making me giggle. “We have a pan-seared Rocky Mountain elk chop, with Marietta Montana russet potato puree, lemon roasted cauliflower with crispy shallots, and a red wine demi-glace.” He filled my water glass. “Bon appetit.”
I was ready to dig in when my cell rang. Adam’s ringtone. For four years, every time I heard that sound, my heart would beat faster. On the rare occasion I didn’t have my phone with me, I’d move heaven and earth to find it, excited it was Adam and always snapping it up before the second or third ring. This time I froze.
Beck seemed to know this and put his fork down to watch me. Still, I didn’t move. The phone went silent and then started up again. He pushed back from the table, went into the kitchen and brought it to me. Adam and Buster’s picture was on the caller ID. Beck was daring me to answer it.
Don’t you ever dare me to do anything. “Hey.” I breathed into the phone.
“Hey. You still coming?” He still sounded slightly less pissed off.
“Yeah, if everything goes the way I’ve planned, I should be in Missoula Saturday night.” Beck watched me, sipping his ruby red wine, not mad but not thrilled I’d taken his dare.
“Where are you now, babe?” He grinned knowing full well I wasn’t about to tell Adam Harper where I was.
“I’m eating dinner.”
“You stopped for a meal? Good, but you really shouldn’t be out on the road alone, Rainey. You never know what might happen.”
“I’m a tough girl,” I said, and Beck raised his glass to me.
“The place must not be very good, sounds like nobody’s there.” Beck raised his eyebrows, but that wasn’t a dare I wasn’t going to take. “You the only person in the dining room?”
“Yes.” I could feel the blush from the lie across my face. “Adam, my food’s here. Can I call you later?”
“Sure, babe. Be safe. Love you.”
“Me too.” I ended the call and froze. What in the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t a me too kind of girl. And I wasn’t the kind of girl to go on a date with someone who wasn’t my boyfriend.
I expected Beck would make one of his patented smart remarks, but he just started eating, chatting me up about South Carolina. “You haven’t touched your elk.”
I put my fork down in surrender. “I love deer. They’re sleek and beautiful. If this is like Bambi, I’m not sure I can eat it.”
“Only if Bambi weighs seven hundred to a thousand pounds and could kill or seriously maim you. Just taste it, if you don’t like it, I’ll fix you a grilled cheese,” he grinned, obviously aware of my weakness. “Promise.”
I nodded and cut a little piece off and ran it around in the sauce. “It’s good, tastes like beef. And you’re sure it’s not Bambi?”
“Maybe Iron Bambi or Super Bambi. I would say Bambi on steroids, but our elk is farm raised, naturally, with no chemicals.”
I cut a bigger piece. “Bon appetit.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Beck was smart enough
In the middle of the table was a huge round wooden tray with a dozen flickering oil lanterns of various sizes. The chandelier that hung over the table was a tangle of antlers wrapped in tiny white twinkling lights.
“You like it?” He set the wine bottles on the table.
“There you go again with those questions. Of course, Beck, it’s gorgeous.” He seated me in one of the end chairs, then made another trip to the kitchen and put our plates on the table.
“Tonight madam,” he put my napkin in my lap, making me giggle. “We have a pan-seared Rocky Mountain elk chop, with Marietta Montana russet potato puree, lemon roasted cauliflower with crispy shallots, and a red wine demi-glace.” He filled my water glass. “Bon appetit.”
I was ready to dig in when my cell rang. Adam’s ringtone. For four years, every time I heard that sound, my heart would beat faster. On the rare occasion I didn’t have my phone with me, I’d move heaven and earth to find it, excited it was Adam and always snapping it up before the second or third ring. This time I froze.
Beck seemed to know this and put his fork down to watch me. Still, I didn’t move. The phone went silent and then started up again. He pushed back from the table, went into the kitchen and brought it to me. Adam and Buster’s picture was on the caller ID. Beck was daring me to answer it.
Don’t you ever dare me to do anything. “Hey.” I breathed into the phone.
“Hey. You still coming?” He still sounded slightly less pissed off.
“Yeah, if everything goes the way I’ve planned, I should be in Missoula Saturday night.” Beck watched me, sipping his ruby red wine, not mad but not thrilled I’d taken his dare.
“Where are you now, babe?” He grinned knowing full well I wasn’t about to tell Adam Harper where I was.
“I’m eating dinner.”
“You stopped for a meal? Good, but you really shouldn’t be out on the road alone, Rainey. You never know what might happen.”
“I’m a tough girl,” I said, and Beck raised his glass to me.
“The place must not be very good, sounds like nobody’s there.” Beck raised his eyebrows, but that wasn’t a dare I wasn’t going to take. “You the only person in the dining room?”
“Yes.” I could feel the blush from the lie across my face. “Adam, my food’s here. Can I call you later?”
“Sure, babe. Be safe. Love you.”
“Me too.” I ended the call and froze. What in the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t a me too kind of girl. And I wasn’t the kind of girl to go on a date with someone who wasn’t my boyfriend.
I expected Beck would make one of his patented smart remarks, but he just started eating, chatting me up about South Carolina. “You haven’t touched your elk.”
I put my fork down in surrender. “I love deer. They’re sleek and beautiful. If this is like Bambi, I’m not sure I can eat it.”
“Only if Bambi weighs seven hundred to a thousand pounds and could kill or seriously maim you. Just taste it, if you don’t like it, I’ll fix you a grilled cheese,” he grinned, obviously aware of my weakness. “Promise.”
I nodded and cut a little piece off and ran it around in the sauce. “It’s good, tastes like beef. And you’re sure it’s not Bambi?”
“Maybe Iron Bambi or Super Bambi. I would say Bambi on steroids, but our elk is farm raised, naturally, with no chemicals.”
I cut a bigger piece. “Bon appetit.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Beck was smart enough
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