Page 38 of Thorns of Deceit
“Of course, sir.” The door swung wider and Aiden extended his hand. I slid my hand into his and stood up. “Your usual table is ready, Mr. Callahan.”
“Thank you.”
The warm amber glow from lantern-style lights spilled onto the cobblestone path outside.
“You come here often?” I asked my husband curiously.
“You could say that,” he responded. “I own it.”
My mouth dropped, but there was no time to question him further before we entered. The scent of roasted garlic, caramelized onions, and fresh herbs wrapped around us. The interior was a mix of polished dark wood, exposed brick, and soft velvet chairs that invited you to linger. Candles flickered on every table, their reflections rippling across glassware and the smooth surface of the wooden bar. Soft jazz played in the background, just loud enough to fill the space but not overpower conversation.
Aiden held the chair for me like a gentleman, and I found myself admiring the quiet confidence about him. He scanned the room, almost as if he wanted to ensure there’d be no danger coming our way, before letting his gaze rest on me.
“I hope you like it,” he said, voice softer than I’d ever heard.
“It’s beautiful,” I admitted. “I’ve always wanted to see the inside of this place.”
A gentleman approached us. “Aiden, I need to discuss business?—”
“Not tonight, Deputy. I’m on a date with my wife.”
The man’s surprised look shot my way before he disappeared.
I smiled sheepishly at Aiden. “You didn’t have to dismiss him. I know your line of work keeps you busy.”
“It does.” A half-smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he took his seat opposite of me. “But tonight is just for us.”
Our table was tucked away just enough to feel private but still part of the soft hum of the restaurant. Linen napkins, polished cutlery, and small flickering candles set the stage. The smell of fresh-baked bread from the kitchen mingled with the faint spice of rosemary from a nearby herb display.
“I like that.”
A waiter filled our glasses, and once he disappeared, Aiden said, “I know it’s silly, but it’s not alcohol. Sparkling cider for both of us.”
“Oh.” My eyes flicked to the glasses, then back to him. “Why?”
“Well, you’re under twenty-one and…” He trailed off, shrugging, and I realized he worried that I was averse to alcohol because of my mom. Shit, he was way too thoughtful and I was falling for it so effortlessly. In fact, I didn’t even think I was fighting it.
“You don’t have to resort to non-alcoholic drinks on my behalf,” I said simply.
He shrugged. “I know, but I want to. At least until you’re of legal age to drink yourself.”
I scoffed. “I’ve had alcohol before.”
He didn’t comment on it, instead leaning back into his seat slightly before saying, “So, what’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done?”
I laughed, caught off guard by the casualness of the question. “Ridiculous? Hmm… Not sure where to start.”
He chuckled. “That many ridiculous things?”
I nodded. “You’re forgetting I lived in a boarding school for a good portion of my life. It’s where ridiculousness thrives.”
“I sense many stories there. Tell me one, then.”
I thought for a moment, then remembered. “Probably trying to ride a horse without even knowing how to steer it. I ended up in a bush. It was the first and last time I attempted horseback riding.”
Another chuckle, low and warm, sounded between us, sending a shiver down my spine. “I would have paid to see that.”
“What about you?” I asked, leaning forward slightly. “Ever done something your pride regretted?”
