Page 47 of She Wolf

“Your servers will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal and the rest of your time here. It’s been wonderful showing you the Orchid Show.”

“Thank you, so, so, much,” Coralie gushes. “It was absolutely spectacular.”

I echo her sentiments and then he’s back on his way and just as promised an older lady comes over with a cocktail menu and encourages us to move out onto the terrace.

Coralie orders one laden with gin and I request another apple cider as we go and take a seat outside.

“So, it was a good idea then?” I ask. “You liked the exhibition?”

“Yes, very much. The way it all fits together, the bold colors against dramatic scene-scapes. I think my favorite was the rainforest gallery. How stunning was that! Holton said he was going to email you with some tips for orchid maintenance. You’ll forward that to me, won’t you?”

“Of course,” I promise.

Our drinks are served, and we’re taken through the menu.

“Gunner, I can’t choose it all sounds so amazing,” Coralie sighs and I decide we’ll just have it all.

“Could we please just have one of everything. All the starters can come out together and the entrée’s as they come after that?”

The waitress nods, taking the menus from us. “Yes of course sir, that’s no problem at all.”

“Stay out here a little while and then you can make your way back in. I’ll turn some music on for you also.”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” I tell her. She smiles and rushes off.

“Gunner?” Coralie says as she sips her drink.

“Yes, Peaches?”

“Can we go round it again?” Her excitement is contagious, and I can’t help but chuckle at her, drawing her soft, warm body into me. “Yes, we have time to wander around the rest of it all and go back through the orchids again.”

She shimmies in her seat, and I steal a kiss. This one is different to the last. It's languid and relaxed. It’s the type of kiss you don’t want to end, so I keep her pressed to me for as long as I can.

Chapter Ten

Coralie

We feast on warm sourdough, colorful beet salad, braised lamb pasta, and salmon that melts on my tongue, and the only thing I can focus on is Gunner.

Incredible, thoughtful Gunner. Who, in the middle of the Stanley cup playoffs arranged the most beautiful and romantic first date imaginable.

Considering I would have been happy eating a picnic in his backyard, he’s taken my breath away. From the stretched limousine waiting outside Casey’s house to the VIP tour of the orchid show.

We’ve talked about all the volunteering that starts back up for me in September and the second car he has stowed away in the garage that I never knew he had but is very proud of—a rare 2005 yellow Ford GT—the photos in his phone prove it.

I do have something on my mind, even though it’s not the greatest topic to bring up on our first date. It’s not like we haven’t been in each other’s lives all this time, so, I’m just going for it.

“Gunner Grey,” I start, after the nice waitress has cleared the table.

“Yes, Coralie, umm?” he grimaces and before he gets it out, I correct him.

“Madden, Coralie Madden.” He visibly sighs in relief and takes my hand in his own enormous warm and gentle ones.

“That’s good. That’s good you got your name back.”

“It is. It was my first order of business,” I tell him, and he smiles.

“Sorry, what were you going to say?”

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