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“I wasn’t saying that as a complaint,” I returned. “Just that I haven’t been there in years, and since you haven’t been to Haven’s Bay in a while, I figured you hadn’t either.”
“I haven’t. Shall we go then?”
“Sure. Let me just grab my jacket.”
The heels of Sasha’s boots echoed briskly on the floor ahead of me. My eyes tracked the swing of her hips. I’d been lying when I told her kissing her hadn’t freaked me out. It had most definitely unsettled me. Just not the way she thought.
Sasha snagged her fluffy down jacket hanging on the coat rack in the corner of the foyer. My jacket was hanging on the end of the banister, and I grabbed it.
“Oh wait, I need to let Matilda out before we go,” she said as soon as Matilda came trotting down the stairs. She’d taken to napping upstairs in the sunshine that came through the window and landed on a circular rug at the end of the hall.
It was early evening, and the sun was setting, but it was still probably warm in that spot.
“I’ll start my car while you take her out.”
Sasha nodded, following me with Matilda right behind us. My car was warm a few minutes later, and Sasha was quiet as I drove into Haven’s Bay. The holiday lights glittered under the evening twilight, casting the small downtown area in a charming twinkling glow.
“Wow,” Sasha said in a low voice. “I forgot how beautiful the town is over the holidays.”
I glanced sideways when I came to a stop at the stoplight. She was looking out the window, and I wanted to reach over and turn her chin toward mine for a kiss. But she was still annoyed with me, so now wasn’t the moment for that.
I turned onto Main Street, passing by Haven’s Bay Grocery. Holiday lights were strung on the rooftops of the stores and homes in downtown proper. The decorative lampposts had wreaths mounted on them, lining the street with holiday cheer. Another moment later, the sign for Emile’s came into view. I slowed and turned into the parking lot, not surprised to see it filled with cars.
As we walked across the parking lot with the sound of our footsteps crunching on the gravel, I commented, “We might have to wait at the bar for a table.”
Sasha’s eyes slid sideways, her lips kicking up at one corner. Lust bolted through me. “I’ve never even gotten to sit at the bar here. That’s big stuff.”
Her reply caught me off guard, and I barked out a laugh as I held the door open for her. “I guess not, seeing as you moved away from town when you were sixteen.”
I turned out to be correct. When we stepped inside, every table was full. Even the bar was full, although I spied one barstool and quickly guided Sasha to it. Without thinking, I rested my hand on her lower back, coaxing her forward as we threaded our way through the tables.
I saw people turning as we passed by with some waving or calling out quick greetings. I hadn’t been back home too often, but I did know some locals. I honestly didn’t know who might recognize Sasha.
“Right here,” I murmured, leaning down to speak into her ear.
She slipped her hips onto the barstool, and I leaned my elbows on the bar beside her. She spun around, her eyes arcing about the room. “Wow, it looks pretty much the same.”
The restaurant was in a renovated cape-style home with the walls knocked down and supporting beams refinished to create open space. Tables were scattered in the center with a coffee bar on one side, a liquor bar on the other, and a deli counter and kitchen in the back. The place functioned as a coffee shop and deli in the morning into the afternoon. In the evenings, the coffee bar shut down, and alcohol flowed with the food. They served standard pub fare with the seafood twist of mid-coast Maine. In addition to burgers and sandwiches, they had fresh lobster rolls, fish and chips, crab cakes, and the like.
The restaurant was pretty basic as far as décor went. Over in one corner, there was a pool table. The bar had a glossy wooden surface, and the bartender, Rick, caught my eye, grinning when he recognized me.
“Well, hey there, Noah. Long time.” His eyes landed curiously on Sasha. “Do I know you?” he asked as he set two napkins on the bar in front of us.
“Maybe,” Sasha replied with a saucy grin. “I’m Sasha Hilts. I grew up here, but I moved away in high school.”
Rick nodded slowly, his brows hitching up. “Ah, I remember you. How’re things?”
“Pretty good.”
“What can I get you two?”
“I’m driving, so I’ll just take a water. You?” I glanced at Sasha, not missing Rick’s lingering gaze on her. A bolt of possessiveness jolted me.
“What kind of margaritas do you have?” she asked.
“Strawberry and regular.”
“I’ll take a strawberry one.”
