Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Agan: 6?
Me: 7?
Agan’s next text was a thumbs-up before asking if there was some place I suggested.
I dialed his number. When he answered, I said, “I don’t eat out much. You may have a better suggestion than me.”
“I heard good things about the Italian restaurant here in Mason Creek.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll meet you there at seven.”
“I could pick you up,” he offered.
“You could, but that would take you out of your way. I can just as easily meet you.”
“I’m just happy to have a meal with you.”
We ended the call shortly after. That night, I went to sleep with a smile on my face. It was still there when I went to work the next morning. Only Agan wasn’t in his usual spot, and he didn’t show up for my entire shift.
It was hard not to assume the worst by the time I made it home. He hadn’t called, and I didn’t text. It wasn’t like he’d promised he’d be at the diner daily. I’d just gotten used to seeing him. Besides, I was seeing him tonight.
Avery came over and brought a dress of hers I wanted to borrow for the occasion. I hadn’t been on a date in years and didn’t know what to make of it.
“It’s going to be fine. You look great,” Avery said.
I smoothed my hands down my sides while looking in the mirror. Every flaw I had seemed to glare back at me. “If you say so.” I sighed and turned away from my reflection. If Agan didn’t like me for me, it was his loss. “I should go.”
The drive to Mason Creek was a peaceful one. The mountains were more beautiful up close and through the pass. But Mason Creek was a different world. The town thrived in every way while our town died a slow death. Being here reminded me of that long-ago night when I’d given my virginity to Mitch Bowmen. Part of it had been revenge against my ex and the other had been an unexpected attraction to a boy who shouldn’t have wanted me. He’d said and done everything right that night, but I’d done everything wrong. It should be a reminder that Agan was no good for me. Yet I parked a few doors down from the restaurant.
I smoothed my dress again as I got out of the car, this time to dry my sweaty hands. My nerves were at a fever pitch. I hadn’t allowed myself this much hope in a man in a long time. I walked into the restaurant hoping he hadn’t stood me up.
SIX
A perusal of the restaurant yielded nothing until Agan stood from the table he’d been seated at.
“Can I help you?” someone asked.
I faced the woman who stood in my path. “I’m meeting someone.”
Her eyes narrowed with judgment, as if she could tell I didn’t belong.
“Haley.” His voice was like silk and the woman who impeded my path gave him a smile she hadn’t given me.
“I’m sorry,” she said trying to sound nice, though her tone was as bitter as biting into a lemon.
Agan held out a hand. “You’re a bonny lass.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what he’d said, but I said, “Thank you,” anyway. Then I let him lead me to our table while the sourpuss hostess stewed on her jealousy.
Once we were seated, I said, “Does ‘bonny lass’ mean what I think it does?”
His eyes twinkled with mirth. “It means you’re a fine sight for sure.”
Agan looked good, too—tall, handsome and too good to be true. “You aren’t so bad yourself.” I opened my menu and dipped my head to hide the blush I felt creeping up my face.
“Do you like Italian food?” he asked.
“I’ll try anything once.” I paused before saying, “Missed you this morning.”
“Did you? I didn’t think you’d notice.” I gave him a small smile. He added, “I had an early video call.”
“Good to know.” I hid behind the menu again, feeling ashamed of my show of jealousy. “Where are you from?” I was curious about his accent.
“The Highlands,” he said. When I only gave him a puzzled look, he added, “Scotland. At least that is where my mother’s from. My father is from a little country in the North Sea between Scotland and Norway called Soturi.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
He nodded. “Most haven’t. But it’s there.”
The server came and I ordered carbonara. It sounded fancy and delicious. After she left, I asked, “What brings you all the way from Scotland to Montana?”
Though I knew it was business, I wanted to know more. That and I was squirming under his gaze.
“Business for my father.”
I folded my hands and placed my elbows on the table, which was probably unladylike here. I didn’t care. “Let me guess. You’ve come to open a ski lodge or one of those fancy golf courses.” Because that was what people wanted to do. My father had fancied himself one of those businessmen, if Mom were to be believed. But he’d cut and run before Mom learned she was pregnant.