Hawks Mountain - Mobi (13 page)

Disappointment clouded her eyes.

Nice, Nick? Nice?
He’d wanted to say more, but emotion clogged his throat. He swallowed to clear it away. “I take that back. You’re beautiful, Becky.
Absolutely beautiful.”

That brought a smile from her and more mixed emotions rose up to hamper his breathing. Beautiful didn’t even do her justice. There wasn’t a word, at least none he’d ever heard, to describe how she looked.

“Thank you. You look great, too.”

After that, they just stared at each other.

Granny stepped between them. “You two
gonna
go get that dinner Nick won or are ya just
gonna
stand here gaping at each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers?”

Granny’s voice broke through Nick’s sensual stupor. Had that nervous laugh come from him? “No, we’re
gonna
go eat. You ready, Becky?”

She nodded. “I’m starved.”

“Me, too.
Let’s go.” Although he wasn’t at all sure food was what he hungered for.

Though she’d known
about it all her life, Becky had never been to this restaurant before. Everyone knew it was one of the ritziest restaurants in the county, and no one she knew had the kind of money it took to have dinner here, including her.

The Lodge on the
Lake
,
situated at the mouth of the valley and perched on the shores of
Lake
Wendy
, turned out to be rustically elegant, secluded and very romantic.
Too romantic for Becky’s peace of mind.

The
maître d’
seated them on the open deck at a table for two, far from the other diners and overlooking the lake. He lit the single candle in the center of the table and gave them their menus.

“Enjoy your meal,” he said, bowed and disappeared to be instantly replaced by a waiter in black pants, a starched white shirt and black vest with a towel draped over his arm.

Nick gave the waiter the card they’d presented him with after the race. The waiter tucked it in his pocket, spread Becky’s napkin on her lap, took their drink order, and then he, too,
seemed
to vanish from their side.

Becky looked around, unable to believe she was actually
here .
 . . and with Nick. It was like a fairy tale come to life.
Her handsome prince charming smiling at her from across the table.
Silver moonlight streaking across the still surface of the lake.
An owl hooting in the distance, and every now and then the shadow of a night bird passing in front of the creamy yellow, full moon.

As lakes go,
Lake
Wendy
, which couldn’t have been more than a few miles around its entire shoreline, wouldn’t have ranked up there with the larger ones. But it was still breathtaking. At the far end, nestled in the trees she could just make out a large, white house, Mrs. Daniel’s summer home. Not that she spent that much time there. Granny said she hadn’t been out there in years.

“What are you going to have?’

Nicks’ question dragged Becky’s attention back to the table. Realizing she hadn’t even looked at the menu, she opened it and scanned the many offerings. As she read down the list of entrées, she realized just how far out of her element she was here. Maybe she was just too used to Granny’s cooking. Certainly she and Sonny had never eaten anywhere nearly as elaborate as this place. When they were in college, they couldn’t afford it and after they graduated, they still couldn’t afford it. Dining out with Sonny had meant a quick trip to one of the local fast food take-out joints then back home to catch the latest sports broadcast on TV.

She continued to stare at the menu and frowned. “I’m not sure. Some of this stuff I’ve never heard of before, much less tasted.”

“Would you object if I ordered for both of us?’

Becky smiled at him. Relief at not having to choose from the list of unrecognizable foods rushed through her. “Please.”

Seconds after Becky closed her menu and laid it on the table, the waiter magically appeared carrying a bottle of wine, an ice bucket, a silver corkscrew and a white cloth. Becky decided these guys should have been working special ops for the CIA. She never saw them coming or going, but that was part of the charm of the place. Not even the wait-people infringed on the secluded atmosphere.

The waiter opened the wine and poured a few drops into Nick’s glass. Nick tasted it and nodded. “Excellent,” he said.

The waiter smiled, then he filled half of Becky’s goblet and repeated the process with Nick’s goblet, after which he stowed the bottle in the ice bucket with the white cloth wrapped around it. Then he turned to Nick. “Are you ready to order, sir?”

Sipping her wine, Becky listened as Nick rattled off a bunch of words that sounded French while the waiter nodded in apparent approval of the selections, but wrote nothing down.

When Nick was finished, the waiter gathered up their menus and said, “Excellent choices, sir.” He then pulled his disappearing act once more.

“Am I going to want to eat any of what you just ordered?’ Becky grinned.

“We’ll see.” Nick returned her smile, and her heart skipped several beats.

He raised his wine glass.
“To better times.”

She clicked his glass with hers, took a sip, and then set it down on the table. “Have there been that many bad times?” She held her breath hoping this might be the time when he would finally talk about himself.

A shadow fell over his expression. “More than I care to count.”

Not much, but at least he hadn’t gotten up and left her sitting there once more trying to figure out what was bothering him.

Before she could ask him to elaborate, the waiter had returned with two plates. Each frying-pan-shaped plate had six small indentations. A small curled up piece of meat swimming in butter and garlic lay nestled in each indentation. Small cubes of bread dotted the plate’s contents.

The waiter placed cocktail forks beside of their plates.
“Bon appétit.”
And he hurried away.

Becky took a tentative bite of the mystery food. It was delicious.

“What is this?”

Nick grinned, and then winked. “Don’t ask questions. Just enjoy.”

And she did, the food, the company, the atmosphere. It was heavenly.

Prime rib, baked potatoes with sour cream and asparagus in hollandaise sauce followed in easy succession. The best coffee Becky had tasted since the cup she never got to finish at Nick’s cabin accompanied what Nick explained was a
crème
brûlée
desert.

 
“If I ate like that very day,
I’d weigh a ton,” Becky said as she and Nick walked along the lake in the moonlight. She turned to look at him and smiled. “Thank you for inviting me to share your prize.”

As always, her smile did things to Nick’s insides that no other woman’s smile had ever come close to doing. “Thank you for accepting.” This had been one of the most perfect nights of his life, and mostly because of Becky Hawks.

“I recognized everything else we had, but are you ever
gonna
tell me what that appetizer was,” she asked.

He hesitated for just a moment before disclosing the mystery food’s identity.
“Escargot.
Better known as snails.”

She stopped and stared at him. “Well, I never would have believed that something that hides under the rocks in Granny’s garden could taste so good. I wonder if she knows that she’s sitting on a culinary gold mine.”

Nick had expected her to turn up her nose, but she hadn’t. He should have known. Becky didn’t impress him as the squeamish type.

“Far be it from me to put the stops on a budding business, but they’re not the same kind of snails.”

They both laughed then walked on enjoying the silence that cloaked them.

A chorus of frogs on the far side of the lake sang out for a few moments, and then went silent. An owl, most likely the one she’d heard earlier, injected his voice with a series of loud hoots, which faded into the night. Fireflies sparkled over the lake like diamonds suspended in midair. The full moon illuminated their path.

As they stepped into the shadow of a large maple, Becky’s heel caught on an exposed root, and she pitched forward. Nick caught her bare upper arms to steady her.

“You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m fine.
Just clumsy.”

He ran his hands over her skin. “Your arms are cold. Here, take my jacket.” He slipped out of his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Grabbing the jacket’s lapels, he arranged it snugly around her body.

Then he made the mistake of looking into her eyes.

Nick continued to hold onto the lapels of the jacket and stare deep into Becky’s eyes. In them he saw a blatant invitation to do what he’d been thinking about doing on and off all
night .
 . . kissing her. That she didn’t draw back encouraged him.

He felt his body leaning toward her of its own volition. She tilted her head back. His shadow blotted out her face. Except for her warm breath coming in short gasps, the sounds of the night faded from his hearing. His heart thumped against his chest as though a bass drum were hidden inside him.

Closer and closer he leaned until Becky filled his world. Bending his head, he brushed her lips with his. But that wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the longing inside him. He let go of the jacket’s lapels and cupped her face in his hands, then placed his lips on hers again. This time the kiss was more urgent, more powerful. This time, she looped her arms around his neck and hungrily pressed her mouth to his.

Kissing Becky was like being transported someplace safe, clean and uncontaminated by the ugliness of the world. Nick wanted to stay there forever. An owl hooted in the tree above them, shattering the moment.

Nick released Becky’s mouth, but continued to hold onto her face. Placing his forehead against hers, he whispered, “Should I apologize for that?”

She chuckled softly. “Not unless you want me to push you in the lake.”

He laughed, and then kissed her again. This time it was a brief, butterfly peck on the lips. “We better get out of here while I can still think straight.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he turned her toward the car.

Hours later,
Becky lay in her bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling and reliving the perfect evening she and Nick had spent together. The food, the restaurant, the night, and most of all, the kiss had been more than she could have asked for and certainly more than she’d expected. She loved it when Nick was like he’d been tonight, when he was happy and one of his black, secretive moods hadn’t popped up out of nowhere and stolen his good humor.

Thinking about his dark moods brought to the forefront a problem. If they didn’t get whatever was troubling him out in the open and talk about it, she had serious doubts about where any relationship, if there was to be one between them, would go.

Then again, she was doing battle with her own self-doubts. Was the pot calling the kettle black? She hadn’t been any more eager to share what was bothering her with anyone than he had, not even Granny. Did she have the right to pry into his life if she wouldn’t open her own to scrutiny?

Admittedly, her burdens didn’t seem to be as heavy as his, but they were, nevertheless, burdens. But somehow, she didn’t feel that a cheating boyfriend and a job filled with trying fruitlessly to eradicate poverty, and the tragic loss of a client would stand up to whatever haunted Nick. She knew what had brought her back to
Hawks
Mountain
. What had brought Nick here?