A light flurry of snow started to fall as they left Moose Springs and all its dining options behind. Dining options that seemed glorious and completely date appropriate now that Rick had lost the possibility of turning around and driving back to any of them.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were taking me into the middle of nowhere.”
“It sure feels like it, huh?” He inwardly cringed.
Think, Rick. Think of some place. Any place. Why hadn’t he turned the other way? It would have been a long drive, but Anchorage was eventually that direction. This way, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“So tell me about you.” Lana turned in her seat toward him, making herself comfortable. “None of this usual date stuff. Tell me something good.”
“I finally remembered to bring home Diego’s milk for once.”
“Is forgetting the milk a thing?”
“Yep. And it pisses the kid off like nothing else.” Rick grinned at the thought. “I might be doing it subconsciously. You should see the face he makes when he has to eat his Raisin Bran dry.”
Her laugh was a much-needed balm to his nerves. “I like Diego. He always seems very serious though. It’s good he has you to tease him.”
“He’s good for me too. Diego’s been living with me for a while now.”
“How long is a while?”
Rick hesitated, because no one liked to talk about the accident. Glancing at her, Rick’s mouth opened of its own accord. “Since he was a teenager. His family passed away. Drunk driving accident.”
Lana’s voice softened with sympathy. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah.” Even now, memories of getting that call still gave Rick a cold shiver. Having to tell Jen her nephew was being airlifted to the hospital and the rest of the family was gone was one of the worst things he’d ever had to do.
“None of us are fond of tourists driving drunk in town. Diego’s got the scars to back up his feelings on the matter. He lost his parents and his little sister that day. Jen…my ex. Her sister was his mom.”
“Does Diego have any other family besides you two?”
Rick shook his head. “Not locally.”
“It’s really good of you to have taken him in.”
“If you’d seen him sitting there in the hospital, stitches in his forehead, totally lost, you wouldn’t have been able to leave him there either.” Rick couldn’t help the pride in his voice as he added, “The kid’s rough around the edges, but he’s a good one. First person I’d want in my corner.”
“He had your back with Jonah. I was impressed.”
Not many people were impressed with Diego, which only made him like her more. Which was why it was unfortunate that at any moment, Lana was going to decide he’d lured her into the middle of nowhere to ax murder her.
“Oh,” Lana said, looking up with excitement. “Are we here?”
They’d reached the end of the road. As sheer freaking luck would have it, the end of the road coincided with a particularly nice view of the surrounding mountains. Without that view, the modest, two-story log cabin bed-and-breakfast in front of them wouldn’t be there. Or at least it wouldn’t have had an “Open” sign in the window.
Somehow, Rick had found a B and B with an actual restaurant attached.
This was it. Literally. If he turned left, they would end up on a gravel drive leading into a national forest, and if he turned right, they would end up headed for Canada. It was the end of the road, so whatever Molly’s Bed-and-Breakfast was, this was it.
Molly sounded like a normal name. This could work. He was saved. It was a Christmas freaking miracle.
“A B and B, huh?” Lana aimed a flirtatious look at him. “Are we at the overnight stage already?”
Rick winced. “I didn’t even think of that. We can go back if you aren’t comfortable.” Back because forward wasn’t much of an option. Forward would take them so far into the bush, he’d need four-wheel drive.
“I’m sure this place is absolutely lovely.” She squeezed his hand once more before releasing it to unbuckle her seat belt.
Lana’s heels were not meant for this kind of drive, but she never wobbled as she joined him at the front of the vehicle. Crap, he hadn’t opened the door for her. Apparently, he was determined to blow all his chances to use card number fourteen. He’d jumped out and stared at the restaurant as if he could warp it into a four-star steakhouse out of sheer willpower.
“Are you all right?” A sculpted eyebrow rose, those gorgeous eyes sweeping over him in concern.
“Yep. All good.”
Nope. Nope nope nope.
Lana threaded her arm through Rick’s. “I’m starving. It’s always exciting to try someplace new.”
Yes. Exciting. This was exciting, and he could really luck out here. Some places were hidden gems, and just because he’d never known about this place didn’t mean it wasn’t one of those unexpectedly amazing restaurants that would make tonight worth the drive.
Letting himself hope for a kinder, gentler universe, Rick opened the door at the top of the stairs, offering a shy smile to the woman with him. She was so beautiful, he couldn’t get over it. And when she returned that smile, his heart paused in his chest, took its own breath, and finally started to beat again.
This time, Rick moved fast enough to hold the door open for her before following her into the restaurant. She stopped so quickly, he bumped into Lana’s back, quickly placing a hand on her hip to steady them both.
“Sorry—” he started to say, then Rick trailed off, finally seeing what had caused his date to hit the brakes.
Rick had lived in Alaska his entire life. Many people he knew were avid hunters, and some relied on hunting and fishing to feed their families throughout the winter. Even though it had always struck him as macabre to mount a trophy animal on a wall, he was used to it. Growing up in Alaska meant one wasn’t a stranger to that sort of thing.
But even he had never seen this much taxidermy in a single room.
“Are they—?” Lana started, sounding startled more than horrified.
“Squirrels.” Rick kept his hand on her hip out of sheer protective instinct. One did not expect to step into a room with taxidermy squirrels everywhere.
“And are they—?”
Rick shuddered. “They’re dressed for the holiday season.”
Looking around, Rick had no idea what to do. Everywhere he looked was another squirrel. One dressed as an early 1900s St. Nick. Others working as elves in Santa’s workshop or loading his sleigh. A Rudolph squirrel stood impatiently with the other reindeer squirrels while excited squirrel children waited by fireplaces in little squirrel pajamas. There were squirrels reenacting the ending of It’s a Wonderful Life and others ice skating beneath a Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center.
Someone had put a Ghost of Christmas Future outfit on a particularly grim squirrel, complete with chains and a sickle.
A tall, thin woman in thick-rimmed glasses appeared from the back, blinking in surprise when she saw them. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in. Two for dinner?”
If Lana had run screaming, Rick would have understood. But instead of cringing, his date turned sweetly to the hostess.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Sit wherever you want. We’re empty tonight.”
The hostess handed Rick two menus and promptly disappeared into the back once more. “Carl, we have a two-top,” the hostess yelled, loud enough that they both started.
“Well, I prefer to sit by the window,” Lana said cheerfully as they headed to a table on the far side of the empty dining room.
Rick raised an eyebrow. “Next to Santa’s sleigh?”
“It seems festive.” Festive was one way of putting it. “Have you eaten here before?”
“Do you think I would have dragged you all the way her
e if I had?” Rick pulled her seat out for her as per card twelve’s recommendation.
“I might question your sense of humor,” she said with a teasing smile.
If she was horrified, she was hiding it well. Now was the time to own up to his mistake or to flat out lie. Rick wasn’t a liar, even when his pride was on the line, so he groaned softly.
“Hey, Lana? You know when you take a beautiful woman out to dinner and you keep driving past all the places because they don’t seem good enough and end up in the worst possible place by accident? It’s something like that.”
The grin she flashed him was full of mischief. “You mean you don’t normally go full squirrel on your first dates?”
“I keep wishing I was back in the resort buying you a steak, but it just isn’t happening.”
“Don’t worry,” Lana reassured him. “I’ve been to every kind of dining experience under the sun. You get points for being original.”
Rick chuckled, resting his arms on the table. “I bet double-dating with Zoey and Graham is sounding better by the minute.”
Lana exhaled a soft laugh. “Trust me, unless they serve squirrel, this is far superior.”
A man appeared from the back, stumping up to their table with two glasses of water in his hands. Early thirties, partially balding, with a pockmarked face and a lingering scent of something sketchy clinging to his clothes, their server did not inspire Rick’s faith that this experience was about to get better.
“I’m Carl,” he grunted at them. “Ma’s in the back. We’re down a cook tonight.” Carl pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, then he read off of it in a bored voice. “Our special is the sausage plate, and we have a stroganoff.”
“What kind of stroganoff?” Rick asked. In this place, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“I don’t know. It’s stroganoff.”
Carl stared at Rick. Rick stared at Carl. Lana raised her glass of water to her lips in an attempt to hide her mirth.
“I’ll ask.” Carl stumped away.
“Do you think it’s squirrel?” Rick asked her, earning another mischievous look from Lana.
“If it is, I’m going to pass. I prefer my adorable chittering creatures happily running around in tree limbs.”
“Not recreating the nativity while you enjoy your meal?”
Lana snickered as she took another drink of her water. “I was trying not to look directly at that one. Or the squirrels in holiday-themed steampunk kissing beneath a mechanical mistletoe.”
A noise had been bothering Rick, familiar but quiet enough that he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Then the sound grew louder, followed by a toy whistle.
“I was wondering what that was,” Lana said. “I love model trains—oh. Oh dear.”
The model train track had been neatly hidden among the other decor, so Rick had missed it until the train came out from a hole in the wall leading to an adjacent room and into the dining room. It wrapped around the outside of the room, passing by them beneath the window.
The train had a conductor. With conductor clothes.
And furry ears.
“If we leave now, it’s only a two-hour drive to McDonald’s,” he said, quietly enough that Carl and his mother wouldn’t hear.
“Yes, but think of the stories we’ll have to tell.” Lana glanced surreptitiously at the room. “How do you think they manage to avoid Harold?”
“Taxidermy isn’t banned in restaurants.”
“True, but nondisclosed meat in ambiguous stroganoff has to be.”
They shared a grin over the table. The menu was—surprising to Rick—mostly Italian-themed dishes and fairly standard options, although many items seemed “house sausage” based. There was literally nothing that would have identified this place as an Italian restaurant, but technically, Italian food was considered a more sensual dining experience.
Squirrels aside, maybe he hadn’t entirely struck out with this one.
When Carl returned, Lana ordered the pasta arrabbiata, the same dish Rick had been eyeballing. Their server looked at them, sighed heavily, and stumped away. In the kitchen, his voice could be heard growling.
“Ma, they got the spicy sauce. I don’t know. Yeah, I told them about the specials.”
“Do you get the feeling that we didn’t order what they wanted?” Lana asked.
Rick didn’t get a chance to answer because Carl stomped his way back to the table. “Ma wants to know if you want the house sausage in your sauce.”
Absolutely not. No way. Hard pass on that.
“No thank you,” Rick said, trying for polite.
“Are you sure?” Carl didn’t seem convinced.
“Pretty sure.”
The train came around a second time, blowing its whistle right next to their table as Carl stared at Rick, eyes unblinking, as if trying to mentally force Rick into caving.
There was no way he was giving in on this, so Rick upped his staring game until Carl grunted and stomped away again.
Lana managed to hide her giggles until Carl disappeared in the back. On a whim, Rick offered his palm to her on top of the table. Bless the woman, she placed her hand in his as if it belonged there.
“You wanted to know something about me,” Rick said. “I was wondering the same thing about you.”
“Oh, haven’t you heard? I’m the pure evil scourge of the town’s existence. I chase deranged moose in my free time, and I’m absolutely in love with anything baked at Frankie’s. Her food is criminal.”
“Any evil exes I should know about?” The cards said not to mention exes, but the words had come from his mouth before Rick could stop them.
“No one worth mentioning.” She shrugged. “I didn’t date much in my twenties. It was hard to get close to anyone because I never knew if they were interested in me or interested in getting a foot in the door at the Montgomery Group. And since taking on a bigger role in the company, I simply travel too much.” Lana flushed a cute shade of pink. “I suppose you think that I’m wasting your time.”
“Actually, I was thinking that I was pretty lucky. If it helps, I’m not interested in taking over your company. I gave up my desires for economic domination years ago.”
Lana leaned in. “That’s an interesting take for a business owner,” she said with an arch look.
“One business. Imagining owning a hundred businesses like you guys raises my blood pressure.”
A funny expression crossed her face.
“Did I guess too low?” Rick asked.
“A bit.”
Pulling a number out of the air, Rick figuring he was highballing it. “Five hundred?” When she shook her head, he was impressed. “A thousand?”
“After the recent Moose Springs acquisition, the Montgomery Group owns over a quarter of a million properties currently being subleased to commercial and private business owners. Such as yourself.”
Rick choked on his water, then tried to cover by coughing. “Sorry. And what part do you manage?”
“The parts that like to cause problems,” Lana said jokingly. “So aside from Diego, do you have any other family around here?”
“Nope, it’s just me.” Rick held Lana’s eyes. “And you changed the subject. Don’t like talking about work?”
“Talking about work is dangerously close to talking about my family. And trust me, we’re going to need something stronger than water to dip into that mess.”
“Would you like something stronger?”
She smiled at him. “I’m not above a glass of wine with my meal. Maybe once we return to town though. You might need backup with Carl.”
“He doesn’t seem to like me much, does he?”
“Not at all.” Lana laughed. “So any kids with your ex?”
Oh no. They were back in forbidden territory, a hard right turn with tires
squealing.
“Oh…umm…well…”
“We don’t have to talk about that if you aren’t comfortable,” she said immediately. But an awkward silence fell between them, the first since they’d reached the restaurant.
Rick grimaced. “Can I have a do-over? What I meant to say was no, we didn’t have any kids. I’m sorry, Lana. I’m not very good at this. I haven’t dated since I was in high school, and I read this article…there were cards…I shouldn’t have brought up exes.”
Could he be any more embarrassed? Thankfully, she reached across the table, resting her hand on his.
Lana’s eyes were bright with curiosity and some amusement. “Let me guess. The article said no politics, religion, or past experiences that could cause discomfort or awkward pauses.”
“Pretty much.”
She leaned back in her seat. “You would not believe how many of polite society’s ‘rules’ I’ve had stuffed down my throat since I was born. And you know what? Two drinks and a cigarette and all that crap goes by the wayside. Just know that I’m open to talking about whatever you’d like. I want to know more about you, Rick. That’s why I lured you to the middle of nowhere and surrounded you with holiday-themed taxidermy.”
How could a woman who made his mouth go dry every time he looked at her somehow make him feel so at ease?
The tension in his shoulders relaxed as he said, “No kids, but we both wanted them. It never worked for us. That’s not why we split up, but it was hard to swallow never having a family. We’re divorced now, but it wasn’t Jen’s fault. When her sister died, a lot changed for her, and I was one of the things that changed. I don’t blame her. Life is hard. I don’t hate my ex, and I never could.”
“You’re a really good guy, aren’t you?”
“Not according to Diego,” Rick told her jokingly. “He called me an asshole tonight, and I probably deserved it.”
They shared another moment, this one equally silent but not awkward at all.
“You know what, Rick? I think you and I are going to get along fabulously.” Lana held out her water, and they clinked glasses.
That was exactly what Rick was thinking too.
Mistletoe and Mr. Right Page 17
