Chapter 12
Morgan still fumed when Dare knocked on her door Friday night promptly at seven, which surprised her as Gabi always complained how he was never on time. She’d given some serious thought about not being home when he arrived, but quickly discarded that idea. He’d most likely chase her down, or talk to her dad.
Call her chicken, but she wasn’t willing to put his threat to the test.
Swinging the door open, she was more than ready to continue their argument but a big bouquet of roses—a dozen if she wasn’t mistaken, and long stem to boot—silenced her quick enough. They shouldn’t soften her resolve, but they did. Dang it.
No man had given her flowers before. These were her first, and they had to be the prettiest and most fragrant she’d ever seen.
Burying her nose in their sweet spicy scent, she grumbled an invitation for him to enter, turning toward her tiny kitchen.
“Still mad?” he asked, his lips quirking into a knowing smile.
She harrumphed and looked for something to put the flowers in. She found an old tin pitcher the previous tenant had left probably fifty years ago or so, and filled it with water from her cooler.
“Well, maybe this will improve your disposition. Lynx finally returned my call. He’s been on the peninsula helping out Briar Levine at the Rehabilitation Habitat in Seward. He can see us Sunday, if you want to drive up to Chatanika for the day.”
And just like that her simmering anger dissipated and she couldn’t help but gift him with a smile. “Of course, I do. Thank you. And, thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
“They don’t compare to you.”
And just like that sexual tension filled the room. Why couldn’t they stay in and put that tension to work? The more time she spent around Dare the more she wanted him.
Dare cleared his throat. “Can you be ready at nine on Sunday? We can leave right after I finish my chores.”
“Need help?” she was quick to ask, giving away her excitement over the outing.
“I never turn down help.” He smiled. “Shall we go to dinner then?”
“All right. I guess you’re out of the dog house. For now.”
He chuckled. “Come on.” He helped her on with her coat, and then bundled her into his truck. They were bouncing down the dirt road when she thought to ask.
“Where are we going?”
“I made reservations at the Wild Rose for dinner. Afterward I thought we’d go dancing at the Pump House. Brey is singing tonight.”
Which meant his whole family would most likely be there cheering Brey on, and most of the town, including her sister. “Is that a good idea? I mean, us at the Pump House…together? People will think we’re dating.”
He gave her a steely, sideways glare that nailed her in her seat. “We are dating. Get used to the idea.”
“But Gabi?”
“She’ll have to get used to the idea too. No more buts,” he said when she opened her mouth to express another. “This is happening, Morgan.”
“And what if I don’t want it to happen?”
“Really? With what you asked of me? Believe it or not, I like to know the women I sleep with. I’m not a totally heartless bastard,” he muttered under his breath.
“Of course, you aren’t. You’re one of the best men I know.” She had a moment of misgiving that she’d somehow hurt his feelings. But how could that be? He should be flattered. Shouldn’t he?
“Yet you had no compulsion about asking me to sleep with you for one night, no strings attached. I’m not a stud for hire.”
She had hurt his feelings. “I don’t think of you like that.”
“That’s how your request made me feel. Put yourself in my place, Morgan. What if I had proposed to you what you did to me? How would that make you feel?”
She worried her bottom lip, feeling sick to her stomach, and wished she could disappear in a cloud of smoke. “Dare, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I never meant to make you feel like that.”
“I know you didn’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are going to date me. It’s the least you can do to make up for it.” He gave her a wicked smile now and she wondered what he was up to.
Could he really be interested in her? They’d shared some pretty hot kisses, but was he serious, like wanting a relationship serious? The roses and the dating seemed to point that way.
They drove up Heartbreak Ridge, and the lights from town twinkled like colorful crystals below with Mistress Lake reflecting the stars above. The temperature had dropped into the single digits, painting the trees in a thin layer of frost. Everything had a magical quality to it, yet there was danger in the sharp, hostile beauty.
Dare parked at the top of the hill where the Wild Rose had been built. It was still fairly new, only open for the last six months, but so far they seemed to be making a go of it.
“I’ve never eaten here,” Morgan said. “Have you?”
“A few times.”
She wondered how many other women he’d brought here for dinner, and she didn’t like the prick of jealousy that intruded.
She went to open her door, but Dare placed an arm across her, keeping her in place.
“Don’t move.” Then he climbed out and walked around the truck and opened the door for her.
She was struck dumb by the action. She’d never had a man open a door for her before. She’d seen her dad to it often for her mom, but she figured that was a lost nicety with this new generation.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the gallant hand he offered.
Once on level ground, he wrapped that hand around her lower back and guided her into the restaurant. She loved, and yet felt uncomfortable, with how caring and gentle he was being with her. It messed with her emotions and she didn’t like that. She much preferred keeping things light and impersonal. It seemed Dare was trying to do whatever he could to trigger her emotions. Well, she had to be stronger than that. She didn’t know what his game was yet, but she’d find out.
Dare opened the huge glass door etched with wild roses for her, and they walked up to the reservation desk.
“Wilde, party of two,” Dare told the hostess, a young woman who looked him over appreciatively.
Morgan wanted to claw her eyes out.
What was wrong with her? She didn’t even know this woman, which was amazing since she thought she knew everyone in town. But to feel violent toward this girl who she didn’t even know? Where the hell had that come from?
The woman, her name tag said she went by Faline—Faline, as in Bambi’s sweetheart?—picked up two menus and then sashayed before them in a tiny, tight, black skirt on tastefully, slim high heels to a table in the corner overlooking the view of the town.
“Can I get you anything from the bar, Dare?” she purred, leaning forward to place their menus on the table, giving him an ample view of her assets.
They knew each other?
“Morgan?” Dare asked, deferring to her.
“Uh…” What did one order in such a posh place?
Dare took pity on her and answered for them both, “We’ll, take a few waters for now and look over the menu and then decide. Thank you, Faline.”
“Wonderful. Miguel will be with you shortly.” Faline smiled at Dare, ignoring Morgan, and then thankfully sauntered away with that ridiculous high-fashion model walk of hers.
Morgan leaned forward, the menu cradled to her chest. “I have to tell you, I’m a bit uncomfortable here. I didn’t dress for a place like this.” She was so out of her element and felt like everyone was watching her, ready to point and laugh. The meal had to cost more than she made in a day, and she didn’t want Dare spending that kind of money on her. Unless he expected them to split the bill? If that was the case, she was sticking with just bread for dinner.
“You’re perfectly dressed. In fact, you look more delicious than anything on the menu.”
Heat infused her body, causing her to squirm in her seat. Why did he say things like th
at to her? He had to know what they did. “I’m in jeans and a sweater.”
“And so am I. So, what’s the problem?”
She grumbled under her breath, but he didn’t catch it as “Miguel” appeared silently from somewhere.
“Dare!” he exclaimed, his arms going wide for a man hug.
Dare got to his feet and returned the hug. “Good to see you, Mike, or should I call you Miguel now?” he asked with a smirk.
Mike/Miguel winced. “That’s Faline’s way of making us seem more ‘upscale’ to justify the prices on the menu. Man, it’s good to see you.”
Dare turned to Morgan. “Mike, if you don’t know Morgan Waterman, I’m sure you’ve heard of her family and that her sister Gabi is marrying Ryder.”
Mike offered her his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Morgan. I’ve met your sister once, out at the Forget-Me-Not Inn. Ryder is a lucky man.” He looked between her and Dare. “How did Dare ever talk such a lovely woman like yourself out on a date with the likes of him?”
“Dibs,” Dare growled. “Hands and eyes off. She’s with me.”
Morgan didn’t know what to say so stayed silent, shaking Mike’s hand and giving him a vague, confused smile.
“I can see that,” Mike said, his dark eyes twinkling. “So, what can I get you?” He waved away the menu. “Don’t bother yourself with that. You want one of the specials. Tonight, we have a baked gruyere halibut that melts in your mouth, served with steamed asparagus and saffron rice. As well as the most succulent prime rib, if you prefer a turf verity, and a pesto ptarmigan, both come with baked potatoes and all the fixings along with the floral house salad. I highly recommend all three. Mom has outdone herself.”
“Your mother is the chef?” Morgan asked.
“This restaurant is a family affair, encouraged by yours truly.” He slapped Dare’s shoulder. “Faline’s my sister. The three of us moved here from Oregon a few years ago, and this guy took one bite of my mamma’s cooking and said we should open a restaurant, even investing his own money. And well, here we are.”
Morgan looked at Dare, seeing him in a new light. He was part owner in a restaurant? “How did you two find each other?”
“Hockey,” Mike said. “No one skates like this guy. Though I’m a close second if Ryder isn’t around. If he is, then I tend to fall to third.” He turned to address Dare. “We really need a hockey game.”
“Yes, we do,” Dare agreed. “Hopefully Puck Pond will freeze solid enough over in the next week, and we can schedule one.”
“Until then, which of the specials can I get for you?”
Dare looked at Morgan, and she suddenly felt the pressure to decide. “Could you give us a minute?”
“Of course. I’ll bring out some homemade sourdough and pumpernickel bread until then. Be right back.” Mike hurried away, stopping at another table where Morgan recognized the mayor of Heartbreak and his wife.
She was so out of her element.
“Are you all right?” Dare asked, looking at her concerned.
He should be concerned. What was he thinking bringing the daughter of a taxidermist to a place like this? The fancied place she’d ever dined was Sizzler in Fairbanks.
“First, are we splitting the bill? Because if we are, I need to know now because I don’t think I can afford much more than water here. I shelled out most of my nest egg for the sad place I’m living in.”
Dare fell back in his chair. “Are you serious? I asked you out, that means I’m paying, and the prices here aren’t as bad as you think. Unless you order the king crab, then you might need to give up your first born. Sorry, that was a bad joke.” He leaned across the table, his brows furrowed. “Morgan, what’s the problem?”
She fidgeted with the cloth napkin—cloth for heaven’s sake! “I don’t fit in here.”
“Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you?”
How did she explain without making him feel sorry for her and her family? Obviously, his family didn’t look down on the Watermans, like some in town did.
“Nothing,” she mumbled.
He took her hand in his, stopping her fretting with the cloth napkin. “I doubt it’s nothing. Please, tell me.”
She squirmed in her seat again. “It’s not really dinner conversation material.”
“We’re getting to know each other better, that is what this date is about. You can ask me anything, and I hope you’ll share why you feel uncomfortable here. Just so you know, Mike and his family were restaurateurs of a small diner in Astoria. They are real people, regardless of the pomp atmosphere Faline is trying to project in this place, though the place deserves it. With how Mike’s mom cooks, she could be an award-winning chef in New York City or Paris.”
Morgan expressed a whoosh of air at the realization. Maybe she wouldn’t be found so wanting. “Well…you know my dad is a taxidermist.”
“Yes, and mine plays with logs. Why would that matter?”
“Well, money has always been tight in my family, what with the five of us kids, and Dad wanting Mom to be a stay-at-home mom. And, well, in school I was called Mangy Morgue,” she admitted, under her breath.
“What? You’re shitting me?”
“Nope, I wasn’t like Gabi, blond with big breasts and the perfect cheerleader body. I was all limbs, skinny and clumsy as all get out. Still am some times. I had long, curly hair that tended to matte, and wore I hand-me-downs that were always too big or short on me. I was long and gangly with bucked teeth and bad acne. I also helped my dad out a lot at the shop. In grade school, I made the biggest mistake of my life, taking a stuffed marmot that I had done myself and was really proud of in for show and tell. The kids nicknamed me Mangy Morgue after that unfortunate decision, and it stuck.” Why was she telling him all this? She’d worked hard to lose the nickname and hadn’t thought about it in years, until sitting across from a man more handsome than any other she knew—well, except Ryder—but Dare was striking in a wild way, completely different than Ryder’s more groomed appearance.
“Mangy Morgue?” Dare said, looking incredulous. “A lot of creativity went into that. What about Road Kill or Crypt Keeper? I think those are much more fitting for a taxidermist’s assistant.”
She looked at him in horror and then burst out laughing, covering her mouth. “Holy crap, I’m so glad you weren’t in my grade.”
“If I had been you wouldn’t have been plagued with name calling.”
“Sure, I would have. I was an awkward teen with braces and acne.”
“Which of us wasn’t awkward? Back then, I was not the put-together man you see today. Imagine walking around school, trying not to look at girls or catch their sweet scent because you’d get a boner? I didn’t carry books around because I was studying them.”
She giggled at the picture he painted. “Sounds like a real problem.”
“You have no idea how embarrassing it is when you can’t control your own body. Girls held all the power. It wasn’t until later that I realized they had no clue they did. Well, some caught on early and made my life a living hell.”
“Was Gabi one of them?”
“If she had been, I wouldn’t have had the nerve to ask her out.”
She still remembered that first time he came to the house to pick Gabi up. She’d hidden in the kitchen, peeking around the corner of the wall. “You were hot. I was jealous of Gabi each time you picked her up for a date.” She sighed. “You were my idea of Prince Charming.”
He choked out a laugh. “Your sister sure didn’t see me that way. She kissed my brother and broke up with me twice, dumping me right before prom, leaving me to go stag.”
“Twice? I knew about the one time, but I can’t believe she was crazy enough to break it off with you more than once.”
“Well, it was more my fault than hers. I tend to forget things when I’m training, and after spacing a few important dates, like her birthday for one, and talking Ryder into standing in for me on homecoming, she’d had enough, and rightly so.”
“Well, at least you went to your prom. I didn’t have my first date until college. Remember I said I was a late bloomer?”
Mike showed up then, interrupting their trek down memory lane. “So, what have we decided?”
“Uh…” Morgan said, looking guiltily down at her unopened menu.
“Caught up in each other, I see.” Mike nodded. “How about I surprise you?”
“That would be great. Thanks, Mike. Bring over a bottle of champagne while you’re at it,” Dare said.
“Champagne?” Mike raised his eyebrows. “Are we celebrating something important?”
“Yes.” Dare took Morgan’s hand in his and kissed her fingers, causing heat to flood her face. “Our first date, which has been a long time in coming.”
“Well, then, that is something worth celebrating. Champagne coming up.”
Chapter 13
They shared halibut and prime rib off each other’s plates and drank the whole bottle of champagne, the dinner stretching out for hours as they talked and laughed. Dare flirted harder than he ever had in his life, loving the way Morgan blushed so sweetly, and regarded him with growing curiosity under her thick lashes.
She was an engaging conversationalist, funny, intelligent, and he was completely smitten when she admitted her love of all things Star Trek, even going so far as to admit that she had her own tribble, from the 1967 season two, episode fifteen.
She actually knew the episodes. A woman after his own heart.
He soon realized that she didn’t put on any airs and seemed as low maintenance as they came. He could see them out on the trail for days, with just the two of them and his dogs, and she wouldn’t complain about not having the comforts of home. The cabin she was currently living in told him she could rough it.
He’d never met a woman with whom he could see sharing that part of his life, which was a huge part of him. Mostly the women he dated for any length started to complain about the time he spent training on the trail and working in his shop. Morgan wouldn’t. She would be right beside him, pitching in and enjoying the freedom the open trail promised.
Wild Streak (Alaska Wild Nights Book 6) Page 6
