“I’ve definitely heard this story before. In fact, I think I’ve acted it a time or two.”
“Right. Eric, onPaisley Creek. He was always up to some scheme to try to get a girl. Wait, are you calling me Eric? Am I the Eric?” He downs some more wine.
I shrug. “If the hat fits?” Eric was the nerdy one. The one who fell for my character, and most of the other ones over the course of the series. But he was an awkward goofball. “But maybe after Eric grew up. I’m sure he matured into an amazing adult. Hopefully him and Lindy are off in their fictional universe living their best lives.”
“Right, he ended up with Lindy. I always thought it should have been you. Or, Jessie. I can separate you from your character. I promise.”
The little place fills up as we’re mowing through the absolutely delicious garlic bread. After my last bite is gone, I lean back in my chair patting my stomach with a groan. “I haven’t eaten that much bread since college.”
And of course, that’s when Gemma places a white plate in front of me.
I ordered a lemon and caper chicken breast, hold the pasta.
Quint eyes my plate. “I can’t believe you skipped out on the pasta. It’s homemade. Best part of the meal.”
I slice a small piece off, spearing it with my fork. “I think I’ve eaten my carb allowance for the week after all that garlic bread. Going to have to figure out where I’m going to go jogging around here to work it off.”
“Jogging? Sounds terrible. There’s lots of work to be done around the ranch that’ll raise your heartbeat.”
“Really? Like what?”
He doesn’t seem to catch the innuendo. Probably for the best. I shouldn’t be teasing him.
“Well, you tried your hand at mucking stalls, but that needs to happen daily. There’s also throwing hay bales, repairing fences, taking the horses out to their fields in the morning. Of course, the riding part, but you won’t be exercising any barrel horses or anything anytime soon.”
My gaze drops to his biceps again. He threw on a crisp blue button-up before we headed out for dinner, but I still have the memory of them straining his t-shirt seared in my brain.
“We’ll see. It might be good to really get into my character. But we got interrupted. You were going to tell me all about your nerdy side. I’m intrigued. I thought cowboys were all rough-around-the-edges, macho-typebro dudes.”
“Hey, Dungeons and Dragons can get pretty badass.” He folds his arms over his chest.
The chicken is cooked perfectly. Juicy, tender. It’s so distracting it takes a minute to really process his words. D&D. Dungeons and Dragons. I’ve never played, but some of my theater friends in college used to have a group.
“You really are full of surprises. The sommelier, D&D-playing cowboy. But the important question is, what does that have to do with your dog?” We got way off track here. Even though we have about zero things in common, he’s so easy to talk to.
“A blink dog is a fey creature from D&D. They can teleport short distances.”
“Fay?”
“Fey, F-E-Y, kind of like a fairy. But Blink appeared at my front door one day. She was dirty and matted, but her tail was wagging. I went to find something for her to eat, but she had vanished, so I left some chicken out for her.
“When I checked later it was gone, but no sign of her. We played the game for another week before she let me lure her into the house. Caleb wasn’t thrilled about having a filthy dog in the house, but he couldn’t say no. He made me promise I’d bathe her and feed her. We took her to the vet to get checked. She was my responsibility. Of course, I said yes.”
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen. Five years ago.” His eyes take on a faraway look for a moment, but then his cheerfulness is back. “Yeah, so I’ve had her ever since. I went all over town trying to figure out where she came from. If anyone knewher owners, or if she’d gotten lost. But no luck, and in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s a pretty small town. So, here we are. Best dog I could have ever asked for. I hated leaving her while I was away at school, but Caleb looked after her, and I was going to leave her in the main house after I got home, but she wouldn’t have it. Escaped the house every time the door opened to come over to my place.”
“Loyal.”
“To a fault. But that’s my Blink. She’s the bestest of girls.”
Ribbons of warmth curl around my heart. He’s the sweetest.
Gemma clears the plates, asking us if we want some dessert. But I’m exhausted, and can’t keep a huge yawn in.
Quint takes one look at my drooping eyelids. “I think we’re good. Just the check.”
“Coming up,” she says, spinning on her heel.
