Page 25 of Missing

When I asked him where he was taking me, he smiled and said, “Dallas.”

Which hardly answered my question. I didn’t want to be a pain, but now my interest was piqued. I asked again, but made a joke of it.

“Is it some kind of top-secret location that you can’t tell me? Or you could, but then you’d have to kill me?”

He laughed. “I can tell you without having to kill you.” He looked over and flashed me a dazzling smile. “It’s this great little family-owned Italian place I discovered while on a job in Dallas.It looks like a hole in the wall from the outside, but the inside is nice, and the food is fabulous.”

“Sounds delicious.” I loved pasta. “What’s your favorite dish?”

“Shrimp Scampi. It sounds simple, but theirs is the best I’ve ever had.”

He told me about a few other dishes he’d tried from their authentic Italian menu. Just hearing him talk about it had my mouth watering.Please don’t let my stomach growl.I’d been so excited for tonight I’d forgotten to eat lunch.

Doug was once again the perfect gentleman, opening my door and helping me out of his truck. Putting his hand on my lower back protectively, possessively, as we walked across the parking lot. It lingered there as we approached the hostess.

Apparently, he came here often enough that the hostess recognized him. She greeted him with a huge smile, which quickly faded as she realized he was on a date.

Doug’s description was spot on, the outside wasn’t much to look at, but the inside was clean and decorated in an old-world Italian motif. At least, I thought it was. I’d never been to Italy so I could have been wrong. It didn’t matter; I liked it.

After we sat, I asked Doug how often he came here.

“I come about twice a month, more if I’m in Dallas for work,” He paused and reached across the table for my hand, “I’ve never brought a date here.”

His confession—I was the first—made me feel special.That’s why the hostess looked disappointed.

“I think the hostess likes you.” I wasn’t planning on saying anything, but the way he was rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb had me a little scatter-brained and I blurted it out.

“Really? I’ve never noticed.” He turned to look at her.

I found that hard to believe, given the sad puppy-dog look she kept sending his way. Maybe she’d been too subtle for him torealize she was flirting. I wasn’t worried about it. he only had eyes for me.

Everything on the menu looked so good it was hard to decide. After much deliberation, I ordered the special, sea scallop Alfredo, earning me a “good choice,” from Doug. Doug ordered the shrimp scampi, saying he couldn’t resist, and suggested the fried ravioli with their homemade marinara sauce as an appetizer.

When our server asked if we wanted anything to drink, I asked him to suggest a wine that paired well with my meal. Doug did the same.

The entire meal was to die for. I was tempted to lick the bowl after we finished the ravioli; the marinara was that good. When our meals came, I tried his scampi, and he tried my Alfredo. Both were mouth-wateringly delicious, though I liked mine better. His scampi had a bit more zing than I liked.

Our server asked if we wanted to see the dessert menu as he cleared our dishes.

“I’m so stuffed I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.” I leaned back. “I may regret it later, but I’m going to pass. Thank you.”

“Would you like another glass of wine?” Doug asked.

“No, thank you.”

Doug settled our bill, left a generous cash tip for our server, and walked me back to his truck.

“What time do you need to be home?”

“I told Nina I’d be home by midnight.”

We looked at the clock on his dashboard. It was just past eight-thirty; the drive home was about ninety minutes.

“Any objections to taking a walk?”

Object?I’d be thrilled. “None at all.”

Chapter 14

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