Page 40 of Ethan

He nodded. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“I’ll be ready.” She put her foot on the first step, then turned back to him. “Ethan.”

He looked at her.

“Next time we’re alone in the barn I’m going to do that again.”

Something moved in his eyes. “I’m counting on it.”

She smiled, climbed the stairs, and didn’t look back.

****

Ethan knocked at seven on the dot.

He heard her moving inside, then the door opened and he forgot what he was going to say.

She was in a yellow sundress this time, her hair down around her shoulders, those same stilettos that had done him in at the reception. She looked up at him with a smile that was doing nothing for his resolve.

“You’re right on time,” she said.

“I try.” He stepped back to let her lock up. “You look beautiful.”

She stopped with her key in the lock and glanced back at him, like she hadn’t expected that. Like maybe no one had said it to her enough.

“Thank you.” Her voice was quieter than usual.

He took her hand, led her to the bottom of the stairs, then walked her to the truck and opened her door. He helped her in and told himself to breathe.

He walked around to the driver’s side, got in, and pulled out of the yard.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“The Hartland Restaurant, just up the road.”

She turned to look at him. “Serena mentioned that place. Said you need a reservation to get in.”

“She’s right.”

Naomi looked at him. “Wasn’t this last minute?”

“I know the owner.” He glanced over at her. “You’ll like it.”

She settled back in her seat, looked out the window at the passing fields, and he kept his eyes on the road.

Once he pulled into the parking lot he had trouble finding a spot until he spotted an SUV pulling out. He waited, then pulled in.

He stepped out, made his way around to her side, and opened the door, offering his hand.

She smiled as she placed her hand in his and stepped down. He closed the door, kept hold of her hand, and they walked to the double glass doors. He opened one and nodded for her to go ahead, then followed her in.

The restaurant was warm and low lit, the kind of place that made you want to stay a while. They walked to a mahogany podium where a pretty blonde stood waiting.

“Welcome to The Hartland. Do you have a reservation?”

“Harrison,” Ethan said.

She scanned the screen, smiled, picked up two large leather-bound menus, and led them to a booth. Ethan waited while Naomi slid in, then settled across from her.