Page 27 of The Bitterroot Inn (Jamison Valley 5)
And it wasn’t just for the pictures. I was beaming at the prospect of spending an afternoon with Hunter.
Warren Adams was going to have to bring his A game to our date tomorrow if he wanted to stand any chance at getting a second, because right now, I was all about Hunter Faraday.
I glanced at my phone for the twentieth time in the last forty-five minutes and still didn’t see a message.
Warren Adams was nearly an hour late for our date. No text. No call. No email.
No nothing.
I had been stood up.
And if that didn’t bruise a girl’s ego, I didn’t know what did.
Oh, well. It was for the best. Last night, I’d actually considered canceling with Warren because I hadn’t thought it fair to date him when I was completely infatuated with another man. But I’d kept the date, feeling that a last-minute cancelation would be rude. Then I’d promised myself I’d give Warren a real chance.
I totally should have canceled.
I’d wasted precious hair and makeup product for nothing.
Grabbing my phone, I was in the middle of sending Felicity a text, telling her that she was never allowed to set me up again, when my waitress stopped by.
“No-show?” she asked.
I looked up and shook my head. “No. I guess I’ll take my check for the wine.”
“You bet.”
Her sympathetic smile made me feel ridiculous. I didn’t need a date to eat at a nice restaurant. I didn’t need a man sitting across from me to order an expensive steak. Screw that and screw Warren Adams.
“Actually,” I called her back before she could go too far, “will you bring me a menu and another glass of the house red?”
“Absolutely.” She smiled and gave me an “atta girl” nod. “Be right back.”
I grinned and sat a little taller in my high-backed booth. Dinner tonight would be a gift to myself for all the hard work I’d been doing to get ready for this year’s tourist season.
Taking a sip of my wine, I relaxed in the thickly padded maroon bench seat and inspected my table. Each table at The Black Bull was unique, made of the same wood but charred with different cattle brands. Together with the dark paneled walls made from reclaimed barnwood and the chandeliers made of animal antlers, the restaurant struck the perfect balance of rustic and refined.
Table inspection complete, I went back to my phone and finished the text message to Felicity. I’d just hit send when a figure appeared by the end of my booth. I looked up, expecting to see my waitress, but instead it was Hunter.
“Oh.” I blinked twice. “Hi!” My greeting came out overly excited and a touch too loud.
“Hey.”
Dressed in jeans and a soft gray sweater, his eyes were sparkling in the dim light. His hair was pulled back in his signature man bun, but the strands that were usually loose at his ears had been trapped tight.
It was official. Every time I saw Hunter, he got sexier.
“Are you eating alone?” he asked.
Realizing I’d been staring, I dropped my eyes to the table. When I looked back up, I forced an easy smile so he’d think I ate dinner by myself all the time. I really didn’t want Hunter to know that I’d been stood up for a date. “Yep. Just me tonight.”
“He showed!” The waitress’s timing was lousy.
My smile fell as my cheeks burst into flames.
She set my second glass of wine on the table. “Better late than never.”
“Were you meeting someone?” Hunter asked as she hustled away.
