Page 47 of Back in the Saddle

She squeezed his hand back.

Their names echoed in the hauntingly eerie Robbers Cave. If Lanky George heard them, he didn’t make a move to disturb the clumsy attempt at whatever this was – a flirtation, of sorts, one with an expiration date and truckload of emotional baggage.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Hunter

‘Ihave to say, when you asked if I wanted to go to dinner, I didn’t expect this.’

Hunter laughed, watching Caroline’s eyes fill with curiosity as she took in the interior. He had asked her out in a vague text, only saying he knew just the right place for dinner and asking if she had any food allergies. She replied that she never says no to food, isn’t allergic to anything, and that as long as it’s good, she has no preferences.

They were sitting on wooden bar stools in a cramped pizzeria. There were only six to eight chairs stacked around the counter running alongside two short walls. The charcoal menu had six different types of pizza written down in white chalk, with prices noted next to it. These changed daily, depending on the availability of fresh ingredients that were in season. The only constant was a plain margherita, forever denoted with number one.

The wood-burning stove crackled with an inviting fire, and the smell coming out of it was as close to food ecstasy as one could get.

Hunter flashed her a brilliant smile, watching her take a big bite from a large triangle.

‘I like to be unpredictable. We can go to a fancy restaurant next time, if you want, but I wanted to take you for the best pizza in the whole of Oklahoma. It’s my go-to.’

She chewed slowly, nodding to herself. He noticed the moment her eyes lit up and she moaned with satisfaction. ‘This is delicious!’ she exclaimed with her mouth full.

He let out a half-suppressed laugh, trying not to make her feel uncomfortable.

She finished chewing and added, ‘It’s perfect, really. I will take good, authentic food over fancy any time.’

‘You’re trying to tell me you don’t enjoy higher-end cuisine? Damn, there goes my plan to take you to the Michelin-star French restaurant next. Their snails are out of this world.’

She shoved his side playfully, and he took the opportunity to put an arm lazily around her waist.

Their eyes met for a split-second, and Hunter felt like his heart skipped a beat.

It was Thursday night, the first time they had met since the trip to Robbers Cave. Caroline had been busy at work; he had been busy at the ranch – tonight was the first time he had managed to get away earlier. His knuckles ached from all the late-night texting, though.

He still wouldn’t call whatever it was proper dating. Even though a small voice in his head nagged him that it very much was precisely that. Dating as a verb felt like a big thing. A step Hunter wasn’t sure he was ready for. Besides, even if he was, it would make no difference. She would still be leaving.As much as he wanted to forget about it, the lack of any future for them was impossible to ignore. But it didn’t stop his mind from trying.

‘I like any good food. Though maybe not the snails.’ Her body moved in a gentle, involuntary spasm as if the mere thought made her uncomfortable. ‘All I meant was that so many people choose expensive over quality. Sure, they often go hand in hand. But I’ve been to so many places that had the trendiest décor and the highest prices, and yet the actual food failed to impress.’

She stopped, finishing the half-eaten piece. After taking a sip of lemonade, she continued. ‘I just don’t believe in paying a premium for the sake of paying more, if you can get the same or better for a lower cost.’

‘What do you think are some of the things that are worth paying more for?’ He bit into his pizza, his eyes not leaving her face.

Caroline shrugged, looking ahead. The pizzeria was on a busy street in Bricktown. Although it was a weeknight, the foot traffic was still heavy. People were walking past in pairs, groups or on their own. Laughter and conversation mixed with the sound of passing cars.

‘Meat is probably one of the things. And seafood. Any fresh food ingredients, really. I’m not a big believer in the whole organic movement, but you can taste a difference in quality fruits and vegetables.’

He nodded in agreement. ‘Absolutely. For me it’s also pasta. Though nothing beats it fresh.’

Seeing him shrug, nonplussed, she laughed and put her hand on his thigh. They were already very close, their knees touching, but this extra contact with her body made him jolt inside.

He swallowed hard. ‘But …’

‘Rice doesn’t make much difference,’ she finished his sentence.

‘Exactly. I think we’d both agree that good whisky is worth its price.’

‘Of course it is. I’m also a big advocate for sustainable fashion and creating timeless, capsule-wardrobe looks. I think my favourite winter wool coat is six years old.’

‘You’d look great in a garbage bag,’ Hunter said before he could stop himself.

---