Page 10 of Snowy Secrets

"Am I the good company or the stiff drink?" he asks, raising a brow.

"That depends," I say, grabbing two menus and tossing one at him. "What are you in the mood for?"

He scans the menu, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm feeling adventurous."

"Good," I declare, flagging down my favorite waitress, Betty. "We'll have two Fat Bastard Burgers, extra pickles and onions, a side of chili cheese fries to share, and two of whatever you’ve got on tap."

Betty winks at me. "Coming right up, doll."

"Fat Bastard Burgers?" he questions, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Don't knock it ‘til you've tried it," I warn. Then I add with a conspiratorial whisper, "They’re the perfect cure for a night of questionable decisions."

He leans back against the booth, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Is that a challenge, Freya?"

"Maybe," I purr, leaning closer. "Maybe not."

The burgers arrive, towering stacks of juicy beef, crispy bacon, and melted cheese. It's a glorious mess, and I can't wait to dig in.

"You were right," he admits after the first bite. "This is delicious."

"Told ‘ya," I say around a mouthful of burger. We eat in comfortable silence, the only sounds the clinking of silverware and the occasional moan of pure foodie bliss.

When we're done, I lean back, patting my stomach with a satisfied sigh. "So," I ask, "What do you think of The Rusty Nail?"

"It's certainly…unique," he says diplomatically.

"That's one way to put it." I laugh. "So, I've told you my name. Who are you?"

A deep, rich burst of laughter erupts from his mouth. "Well, you've taken me out and fed me, so I guess it's only fair for me to give you my name. I'm Wyatt."

"Wyatt," I repeat. God, he looks so familiar…I've heard this name, too. I shake my head.

Wyatt throws his napkin down on the table. "So, what say we have a little more fun?"

Normally, I'd question my sanity for following a stranger into the night. But something about him feels…different. Familiar. And I'm not one to ignore a tingling sense of adventure. I let him lead me out into the night.

"Where to, mystery man?" I ask, a playful lilt in my voice.

He replies with a low, rumbling chuckle that makes me want him all the more. "Patience, my dear. The night is young."

We weave through the quiet streets of Spokane, the city lights painting the sky with a muted glow. He steers me toward Riverfront Park, where the iconic clock tower stands sentinel over Spokane Falls. The roar of the water rings in my ears and stirs something wild and raw in my heart.

"I haven't been here in ages," I admit, my gaze sweeping across the illuminated park.

"Then allow me to reintroduce you," he says, his hand finding mine.

We walk along the riverbank, the moon casting long shadows on the water. He stops at a vendor's cart, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Sugar dust?" he asks, holding out a paper cone filled with the sweet, powdery confection.

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What's sugar dust?"

"Only the best way to end a night," he replies, his voice a low purr.

He dips his finger into the cone, then gently traces the outline of my lips with the sugary dust. His touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of heat through my body. Before I can react, he leans in, his lips capturing mine in a slow, deep kiss.

The sugar dust melts on my tongue, its sweetness mingling with the taste of him. The kiss is a symphony of desire, a dance of tongues and teeth. It's everything I've craved and more.

When we finally break apart, I'm breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. "Wow," I gasp, my fingers still tingling from his touch.

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