She was relieved he couldn’t read her mind and then she lifted her gaze to his face and realized that he could.
It was there in his eyes. The heat. The wry gleam that told her he was feeling the same way.
She looked away. “You shouldn’t feel daunted. I’m just pleased not to have to cook my own food.”
“You look pretty in that dress. Blue suits you.”
Her pulse danced. Her life didn’t include dinner with men and compliments. “It’s teal.”
“Is it? Then teal suits you. This place is supposed to be the best place to eat around here. The chef is new.” He relaxed in his chair, glancing around him and she wondered if he’d sensed her tension.
“I can’t wait to see the menu.”
“You’re not looking at the menu. I’m ordering.”
“You think I’ve lost my powers of speech?”
“No, but if we give you a menu you’ll be studying every dish and every ingredient instead of paying attention to me. We’ll have the chowder followed by the maple glazed duck.” Smiling, he handed the menu and the wine list back to the arriving server and ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir. “Are you going to tell me off for ordering red wine with fish?”
“No. I love Pinot Noir, as you well know. It is an excellent wine for food.”
“And a really tricky grape to grow. André Tchelistcheff said ‘God made Cabernet Sauvignon whereas the Devil made Pinot Noir.’” He waited until the wine was poured and lifted his glass. “One day I’ll take you on a Pinot Noir tasting trip to California. We’ll start in Yorkville and end up on the coast at Albion. Forty miles of glorious scenery. Redwood forests that have been there for centuries and acres of vineyards. We could even drive to San Francisco and spend a few days tasting sourdough bread and seafood.”
He was talking as if they had a future. As if this were a relationship, not a night out.
Or maybe he was just trying to keep the conversation light and general to make her comfortable.
She studied the color of the wine, a light ruby-red, thinking that what he described sounded wonderful. “That would be like a dream.”
“It doesn’t have to be a dream. Now that the Boathouse is up and running you can employ more staff, have more time off.”
“We can’t afford to employ more staff. Things are better, but not that good. I know Jackson is still worried. He worries that if the winter season is not good, if there is not enough snow—” She shrugged. “It is very hard for him.”
“No one knows more about getting heads on beds than my brother. He ran a successful hotel business before he took over Snow Crystal. And of course, now he has Kayla and she has serious skills when it comes to spreading the word about something.”
Their food arrived and she admired the presentation and then savored the flavors. “It’s good. You chose well. It is the first time anyone has chosen food for me since I was about four years old. My mother used to save hard and once a month we would go to a restaurant. She would let me choose what we ate. She wanted me to study the ingredients and decide what sounded good together.”
“That sounds like a p
erfect mother-daughter trip.”
“She thought it was important. A good way to spend money. If I am honest I was just as happy cooking with her at home.”
“You said your earliest memory was cooking madeleines. That’s what you were doing in that photograph in Heron Lodge?”
Emotion settled in her chest. “Yes. For me, my whole childhood is in that one picture.”
“I’ve never tasted your madeleines. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten one.”
“I don’t make them anymore. I haven’t because they remind me—” She shrugged. “There are other delicious things to make.”
“Would you like to have your own restaurant?”
She was grateful for the change of subject. “The Boathouse feels like mine. And living at Snow Crystal is my dream. I wouldn’t want anything else.”
“My family is lucky to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one.” She glanced up. Candlelight flickered across his features, softening hard lines and sending a shimmer of light over glossy dark hair.