Page 28 of Small Town Firsts
I liked both, but preferred the Taproom when all was said and done. The dark stains and crisp apples on the air held anearthier flavor. Sure, some romance could be found, but it was more of a hangout spot.
Something that was sorely lacking in the area now that I’d been exploring. I’d talk to Kira about it—maybe that was exactly where we should lean in.
There were plenty of restaurants around that covered the romantic angle. The Brothers Three Taproom would be a good first date place. The safety of a lot of people with some finger food or appetizers was far less pressure than a full-on dinner date.
I dug out my phone to make a few notes when I felt the buzz signaling my table or bar-top was available.
With Kira on my mind again, I decided to walk through the restaurant to see if I could spot her. It was a longshot in the busy establishment, but I was nothing if not persistent when it came to this woman.
I’d let her walk earlier.
But it had been at least five hours since I’d seen her. That was enough time to think for even the most stubborn of people.
I checked in at the hostess stand and the trio of ladies who were poring over seating charts and an overfull basket of buzzers. I added mine to the pile. All three of them gave me winning smiles. One with dark hair and flat shark eyes zeroed in on me.
A younger Ronan would have been intrigued. She had danger and drama written all over her. Now that kind of woman just gave me indigestion.
“Parrish.”
The blond who had given me the heads up about the patio slipped out from behind the stand. “Hi.”
The other two women practically growled. Especially the dark-haired one.
I beefed up the wattage on the blond to deter the shark. “Find a corner for me?”
“I sure did. Hope a bar-top is okay.”
“Just fine.” I held out an arm for her to go ahead.
I glanced around the cavernous room. It had three levels. The ground floor had two fireplaces that flanked the space with tables in all different sizes. Intimate ones pushed into corners where there was a view of the water or a patron could bask in firelight. Still other areas on the second level were designed for large parties or families, with easily converted tables that could be stuck together to cover a large group or broken apart for busier date nights.
The large bar on the third level was two deep with people grabbing drinks to go out on the upper patio for some air.
The blond might be tiny, but she was quick and her ponytail bounced as she walked. She was a cute thing, but where the shark was scary, this one was benign. Ten days earlier she would have been infinitely interesting.
After Kira…
Unfortunately, the blond was more of a sweet rabbit who needed protecting. A flash of Kira shoving me in that Adirondack chair this afternoon proved she was no meek bunny.
It also proved to me that I wasn’t made for the meek. A strong woman had always fired my blood more than one who played games or pretended to be flirty and coy. Darcy, my ex, had cured me of that for sure.
She led me out French doors off the first floor where a sprawling deck framed out the crown of the property—the vast Crescent Lake, gently lapping at the dock and shoreline. A few picnic tables dotted the grass, placed nearer to the water for more of a party or picnic situation.
They were empty at the moment as was a large barge-style boat moored at the dock. Since it was a weekday evening, it wasempty, but I imagined they did a good business on the water through the weekends.
The hum of people, many more than a few beers or cocktails into the night, drifted over me. A large U-shaped bar took center stage and two male bartenders in jet black were efficiently serving up well drinks while a female bartender flipped bottles with practiced ease as she smiled brilliantly. Golden skin was on display with flashes of gold at her neck. Large hoops dangled from her ears. She wore a high-necked black tank that showed off her toned arms and shoulders with each flick of her wrist.
The bottle of tequila sailed through the air, flipped twice before landing top down into the steel cup.
A huddle of guys and girls whooped and hollered as she built whatever line of shots she had going in front of her.
“Kira.”
The hostess glanced up at me. “You know Kira?”
“What?” I blinked and tore my gaze away from the scene before me.
“Kira? Or are you one of her groupies?” Her smile was indulgent and didn’t hold any of the catty flavor some women could release like a breath.
