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Games? Really? At your age?
Ruth threw up her hands. Obviously, she didn’t know what she was doing and she was a lunatic. She might as well just put on her date clothes and head over to the tavern. Maybe if she saw Liam and reminded herself who he was, she’d be less likely to freak out over whatever was going to happen or not happen during the evening.
You’re not going out with Thor. You’re going out with a fallible human being.
Right. And she needed some reminders of that fallibility.
She dug out one of her more respectable shirts, dark blue silk, along with her best-fitting jeans. Casual, but not too casual, as if she were taking the date seriously, but not too seriously. She even managed to find a pair of leather sandals that weren’t too beaten up.
She paused as she buckled the sandals. When was the last time she’d bought clothes for herself, anyway? She was always buying clothes for Carol, but somehow she never had time for anything else. Maybe she should consider her own wardrobe for a change. Maybe she should spend some time getting herself into shape.
At six thirty, she walked over to the Black Mountain Tavern. The large, dark room seemed mostly empty. A few customers sat in booths at the back and a few more were clustered in the tables at the center. The crowds were probably smaller on weekdays, but this seemed sparse even for a Thursday.
Liam was still behind the bar, pouring a draft beer for one of the waitresses. Ruth slid onto a barstool to wait. When he saw her, his face lit up in a grin.
“Hey,” he called. “Be there in a minute.”
The barmaid departed with two drafts, and Liam ambled to her end of the bar. “I need to stick around a little while longer. The night bartender called to say he’s running late.”
“That’s okay. Is it just me, or do you guys have fewer customers than you usually do on weeknights?”
Liam grimaced. “We only have big weeknight crowds during ski season, but yeah, this is smaller than usual. We’ve got a new guy in the kitchen. That has something to do with it.”
“People don’t like his stuff?”
“That’s putting it mildly. The menu’s been pared down to basics—burgers, steaks, nachos, and wings. He’s even dropped the fried chicken because it takes too much time to cook it right.”
Ruth narrowed her eyes. “We’re not having dinner here, are we?”
“Not on your life. As soon as my replacement arrives, we’re out of here.”
Liam’s replacement showed up around seven fifteen. He nodded at the night bartender, then put his hand on her elbow to usher her to the door.
“Are we running away?” she asked, since they seemed to be moving pretty briskly.
He gave her a quick grin. “We’re leaving a place I don’t like much currently to go to someplace better. Plus, I’ve been looking forward to this all day. Why wouldn’t I hurry?”
“Oh.” She didn’t bother to hide her grin. At least she wasn’t the only one who’d been anticipating this date.
“How late can you stay out? Does the babysitter have a curfew?”
“There’s no babysitter. Carol’s spending a few days at my brother’s place. His wife is feeling lonely, so Brett asked Carol to come cheer her up.”
Liam paused, turning to look at her. “There’s no curfew at all?”
She shrugged a little nervously. “Nope. Just whenever we feel like calling it a night, I guess.”
He went on staring. Then his lips spread in a slow grin that sent a shot of heat from her head to her toes. With several significant stops in between. “Cool. Let’s grab dinner.”
“Okay. What are we eating?”
“The fastest thing we can find.” He caught her hand, towing her along behind him as he headed down the street.
…
Liam wasn’t sure how Ruth had managed to get Carol out of the house. Maybe she hadn’t done it on purpose. Maybe it was all a matter of luck. That wasn’t important. The most important point was that Ruth had the whole evening free. And so did he.
He’d told Bec he wouldn’t be in to work at the brewery that evening. She’d managed to get him to explain why, and her grin made him feel faintly embarrassed. At the time, he hadn’t been sure where the evening would go exactly. Now he had a much clearer idea.
