Page 13 of Falling for Sierra

He slid into his own seat just as a short, plump waitress in jeans and a t-shirt, with an apron covering most of her front approached. She set small glasses of water on the table and handed them each a menu.

“Good evening. What can I get you to drink tonight?”

“Water for me,” Blake said without looking up.

“I’ll have iced tea, Sally.”

“No problem.” She made notes on a pad she pulled from one apron pocket. “I’ll get these out in just a minute.” She hurried away.

Blake picked up his menu and scanned it. Mostly general American food, burgers, chicken strips, there were a couple of pasta dishes and some basic Mexican dishes as well.

“What’s good?” Blake watched Sierra.

“I like their burgers, steaks and Mexican.” She lifted her gaze and met his, lifting one shoulder. “The pasta’s not bad, it’s just not my favorite.”

“What is your favorite?”

“The chicken fried steak.” She’d already closed her menu and set it aside, as if she knew what she wanted.

“The chicken fried steak it is then.” He closed his own menu and set it aside.

She tilted her head and watched him a moment. “Do you like chicken fried steak or are you just having whatever I have?”

“I like it. And I trust you enough to follow your recommendations.”

She watched him a moment longer and he could tell there was something else she wanted to ask.

“Ask.” He didn’t know what she was thinking, but he trusted it would be interesting, at least.

Her brow creased for a second then smoothed again, as if she was fighting the urge to scowl at him for some reason. Before he could figure out why, she spoke.

“I’m trying to figure out if that’s incredibly sweet or just odd.”

“Why would it be odd?” Blake watched her while he waited for her response.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone order the same thing I did, just because I ordered it.”

“But I asked what you liked, why would I ask if I wasn’t going to trust what you recommend?”

Sierra stared at him a moment, then blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I get it when you put it like that.” She lifted her shoulders and changed the subject. “So, after you’ve had a chance to think about it a little bit, what did you like or not like about the properties we saw today?”

She didn’t pull out a notebook, but Blake got the idea she was keeping notes in her head a least. He went along with it, detailing things he liked and the ones he'd particularly disliked so she could try to avoid those with new properties, then he changed the subject himself.

“What do you like to do in your free time?”

Sierra flushed. “I write. I mentioned that last night, I think.”

“You did. Tell me more about it, You said you’ve published some books but tell me more. Do you have an agent? A traditional publisher or what? Tell me how this works.”

Blake was only vaguely interested in publishing, though he did read a lot, especially when he was researching a new acquisition. But he loved the way she lit up when she talked about her writing. He could tell it was something she loved and was passionate about, which made him want to hear more about it. Sierra seemed to enjoy showing him homes, but not in the same way she lit up when he asked about her writing.

CHAPTER 8

After dinner they climbed back into her SUV and made the short trip to the one of only two hotels in town where Blake was staying.

“Come in with me,” Blake invited.

“Are you sure? You’ve had a long day.”

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