you did take him. You could have simply refused.”
He almost smiled. “You insist on making me seem a better man than I am.”
“Hey.” She raised her glass to him. “Gives you something to live up to.”
He did smile then. And he picked up his menu and opened it to study the offerings within. She opened hers, too.
The waiter appeared when they set their menus down again. They ordered. Connor asked for a bottle of cabernet to go with the meal.
The wine steward hustled over to confer with Connor. Once the choice was made, the wine had to be tasted. Connor nodded his approval. The waiter served them each a glass. He left the bottle, wrapped in a white cloth, within easy reach.
The food came—appetizers, salads and then the main course. Connor had prime rib, she had the trout. Tori found it all delicious, every last bite. If the quality was going downhill, she couldn’t tell.
He asked her about her childhood. She told him of her mother’s early death and her father’s extended depression following the loss.
“Must have been a hard time.”
“It was. But we got through it.” She spoke of her half brothers and her stepmother. “My dad’s happy now. It all worked out.”
“What does your dad do?”
“He’s a psychiatrist in Denver. Nowadays he does a lot of pro bono work, helping people deal with grief after the loss of a loved one.”
“He would be the one to understand what they’re going through, huh?”
“Yes. He understands.”
“You admire him.”
“I do. Very much.”
“You were raised in …?”
“Denver, mostly. I moved here about three years ago.”
“And you love it.”
“Yep. I plan to live in Thunder Canyon till I’m old and gray.”
Eventually, the talk got back around to CJ. He said, “My brother-in-law wants CJ to go to work part-time at the Hopping H.”
“Doing …?”
“Whatever’s needed. Dishes. Clearing tables after meals, feeding livestock.”
“You sound reluctant.”
“I have been, yeah. But lately I’m thinking maybe a job would be a good thing, a way to make sure CJ has a little structure, you know?”
“I think it’s a great idea. Teaches him responsibility, gives him a schedule he has to keep. And a little extra pocket change. What’s not to like?”
“Well, when you put it that way …” His eyes were soft again. Was that admiration she saw in them? Maybe so, because then he said, “I like the way you dress. In bright colors. Kind of … fun.” The way he said fun made her absolutely certain that there hadn’t been a lot of that in his life.
“I like things bright,” she said. “And cheerful.”
“And optimistic.”
“Yep. That, too.” She wondered about his ex-wife, about what had happened between them that it didn’t work out.
But no way was she asking about the ex on a first date. She’d been out with enough men to know the red flags, and a guy talking too much about his ex when a woman hardly knew him was definitely a bad sign. Usually that meant he wasn’t over the other woman yet.
He said, “You’re looking much too thoughtful.”
“Just considering the various conversational booby traps.”
“Such as?”
“If I told you, you’d probably only wish I hadn’t— and if you didn’t wish I hadn’t, that would be a total red flag.”
“I think I’m confused.”
“I think I’ve been on too many first dates.”
He laughed. “What? Things never work out for you romantically? I have a hard time believing that.”
“Was that compliment?”
“Only the truth as I see it.”
She felt absurdly flattered. And her cheeks were warm. And she could sit there forever, looking across the table into Connor McFarlane’s sexy, dark eyes, letting the sound of his deep, warm voice pour over her. She said, “It’s not that things don’t work out for me. It’s just, I rarely say no to a first date. So I go on quite a few.”
“And second dates?”
“I look at it this way. A first date is one thing. But why say yes to a second when the spark isn’t there?”
His gaze remained locked with hers. “I completely agree.”
The waiter came and whisked away their plates. He offered dessert. They both passed, but he had coffee and she took hot tea.
Connor said, “So tell me about Jerilyn. What’s her background?”
Something in the way he said that, What’s her background? had Tori snapping to wary attention. “Jerilyn’s a terrific person. Brilliant. Loving. Thoughtful. A straight-A student.”
He sipped his coffee. “You sound defensive.”
“And you sound like a snob trying to find out if Jerilyn’s background measures up.”
“Tori.” His voice was gentle, understanding, even. “She seems like a fine girl.”
“She is a fine girl.”
“And yes, I was wondering about her background.”
She poured Earl Grey from the small china teapot into an eggshell-thin cup. “Similar to mine, actually. Her mom died a year ago and her father’s having trouble coping.”
“What does her father do?”
She looked into his eyes again. And she did not smile. “Butch Doolin is the maintenance engineer at the high school.”
“The janitor, you mean.”
“It’s honest work, Connor.”
“Did I say it wasn’t?”
Instead of answering him, she sipped her tea. When she gently set the cup back in the saucer, she said, “CJ likes Jerilyn, a lot.”
“I noticed.”
“And she likes him.”
“He’s
