An Unexpected Kiss (2 page)

Oh, embarrassment! Heat rose to my cheeks, but I couldn’t pause to explain this was only our first date. Michele was totally going to hear it from me later, though.

Dave’s eyes crinkled and he raised his brows slightly at me, as if he’d guessed that Michele could be a little overwhelming at times. For the second time that day, I felt like he understood me. My heart warmed. Then I remembered my mom’s advice to take it slow, keep it light, and get to know him better before I plunged in head first.

Being reasonable was so not my first choice.

“Would you like to hear our specials this evening?” Michele ran through her spiel with a huge grin on her face the entire time. I got the impression she felt I was hiding something—like Dave and I were closer than I was letting on.

So far, only in my daydreams. . . .

“I think we need a few minutes to look over the menu, but I’ve heard there’s a great local brew I need to try.” Dave shared a glance with me before ordering us a couple pints of my favorite beer. “Could we also start with the chips and salsa?” His hand slid across the table and touched mine. “Does that sound good to you, Holly?”

My skin hummed from the brush of his skin against mine, and I tilted my head. “Chips and salsa with beer? Only my favorite combo.”

“Glad to hear that.” His mouth curved upward in an enticing way that made me wonder what his lips would feel like against my cheek, against my mouth. . . .

“I’ll put your order in right away,” Michele said, interrupting my thoughts. Then she took off after giving me a smirk that said she knew exactly where my mind had gone.

My cheeks heated for the second time since we’d sat down so I knotted my hands together in my lap and stared at my open menu, hoping Dave was doing the same and wouldn’t notice my face was on fire.

I didn’t want to colossally embarrass myself when I looked at him, so my best bet seemed to be to concentrate on what I wanted for dinner. Unfortunately, my eyes scanned the options but my brain retained zilch. I kept my head down as Michele returned with our beers, then she hurried to a table next to ours.

An awkward silence stretched out until I couldn’t take the sound of crackling embers from the fireplace or laughter from across the restaurant anymore. I peeked over at Dave and found him watching me.

“What?” I blurted.

His gaze held mine. “Just glad I went to the festival today.”

An electric jolt zipped through my tummy. “Me, too,” I admitted.

His mouth crept into a smile that made me want to ignore my mom’s warning. The excitement inside me only seemed to be growing, but I knew I needed to hold back emotionally until I got to know him better.

“There are a lot of options I’ve never tried before.” He ran his index finger down the list of items on his menu. “Elk. Buffalo. Which meal would you say is the most Montana?”

“The wild arugula pinenut salad.” I suppressed a grin at the odd look that crossed his handsome features, then gave him a side-glance. “I’m very Montana and I’m also a vegetarian.”

“Ah.” He nodded, leaning toward me, and the glow from the fireplace flickered across his face. “Since I’m mostly a meat eater I’ll have to brush up on some vegetarian recipes for when I cook for you.”

My tummy did a double cartwheel. Had he just alluded to a second date? Already? I was so going to be amenable to that. “If we want to find common ground on a meal tonight we could always skip dinner and jump to dessert,” I joked.

“Great idea. What are your favorites?”

My mouth dropped open since I’d totally been kidding. “For real?”

He raised a shoulder. “Why not? Let’s live on the edge. It was your suggestion, after all.”

I burst out laughing. “Well, my taste buds are craving dessert, but shouldn’t we force ourselves to eat the healthy food first?”

“I think we should go straight for what we want.” He raised a brow and sipped the froth of beer that rode the top of his glass.

Watching him swallow, his words about going straight for what we want rolled around my brain. I was twenty-nine. Even though my mom would totally disagree, I longed to let my reservations go and take a chance with Dave whole-heartedly.

“Let’s do it,” I said, clinking my glass into his, completely caught up in his enthusiasm. A thrilling tremor ran up my spine. I sat taller. This first date felt more like an adventure. And I loved a good adventure.

Michele returned with our appetizer and asked if we’d made our decision on dinner. We ordered four different desserts—tiramisu, crème brulee, chocolate lava cake, and huckleberry sorbet—and agreed to share them all. I felt giddy from the suggestion of something so fun and also of the impending sugar high.

Dave raised his glass. “Cheers to eating dessert first, making our own rules, and living in the most beautiful place on the earth.”

“Cheers!” I clinked my glass into his and could feel myself falling further into the thrill of this date, hard and fast. Maybe restraining my heart was a lost cause and I should work on getting to know Dave better—find out if there were any red flags my mom seemed so worried about. “So tell me about being a web developer.”

Dave swallowed, then set his glass down. “I consult for a few big clients, but I’ll occasionally accept projects for small businesses just for the fun of helping people build their dreams.”

“How so?” I asked, loading a tortilla chip with chunky salsa.

“Like the other day I built a website for a woman who owns a pet grooming parlor because she wanted her customers to be able to book appointments and pay online. She’s eighty. It’s her late-in-life project, and she was over the moon excited.”

“How sweet.” I watched his blue eyes dance, mesmerized by how passionately he spoke about his career. Quite the opposite of a red flag.

“My client loved the site I built for her and offered me free pet grooming for life. Only her business is in Florida and I don’t even own so much as a goldfish.” His eyes crinkled when I giggled, then he popped another chip into his mouth. “I basically have my ideal job, and now I get to do it with a view of the Flathead Valley out my window.”

“You can’t beat that.” I kept my gaze on his as I sipped my beer, knowing I was sliding down the slippery slope of attraction, and soon there would be no way for me to dig myself out. I couldn’t fathom that he was as excited about this date as I was, but the simmering look in his eyes gave me an inkling of hope that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the chemistry between us, too.

“Your turn.” Dave leaned forward, grasping his glass. “I’d love to hear about your business. I saw your work at the festival so I already know you’re talented. How did you come to be a jewelry designer?”

I flushed at his compliment. “I started beading in high school and fell in love with creating new and unique pieces. At first I gave the jewelry away as gifts. Necklaces, pendants, bracelets, you name it. Soon, family and friends started placing orders from me, and eventually word spread and more orders came in. The demand grew and finally I started my own business.”

His gaze dropped to the point just below my collarbones. “Did you design the necklace you’re wearing? It’s amazing . . .”

My fingers flew to the bald eagle charm clasped to the silver chain around my neck. With the pad of my thumb, I skimmed over the eagle’s wings like I often did mindlessly, and paused over the bird’s yellow crystal eye. “Yes, I designed this one. Actually—”

“Here we go,” Michele trilled, interrupting our conversation.

I sank back against my chair, feeling simultaneously relieved and disappointed because I’d been about to tell Dave the story behind my design—which every instinct in my soul wanted to do—but that also seemed way too personal since I was supposed to be keeping things light.

“The desserts look delicious.” I stared at the plates, unable to believe we were really having dessert for dinner. Too awesome. Plus, thankfully distracting enough to buy me more time to get to know Dave.

“You two must have serious sweet tooths tonight. Or would it be sweet teeth? Doesn’t matter.” Michele laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “Enjoy, you guys.”

“Thanks.” Dave began slicing the desserts in half then he separated them onto each of our plates while I watched, adoring how he worked so precisely. “Ready to dig in?”

“Definitely.” I smiled, then sampled the huckleberry sorbet. Next I tried the the crème brulee, which tasted creamy and sweet like everything I had always wanted in a dessert. I moaned a little as I took a bite of the tiramisu. “This was the best idea ever.”

Dave chuckled, then we were silent for a few minutes as we sampled our yummies. Finally he glanced over at me. “You started to tell me about your necklace when we got interrupted earlier. Is there a story behind the bald eagle charm? If so, I’d love to hear it.”

“Yes.” I blinked, surprised he’d remembered. Oh, wait. He was probably just being polite. But when I met his gaze, his look was intense, as if he really did want to know what I had to say. My tummy fluttered. Every part of me wanted to share the story with him, so I sucked in a breath. “This was the first piece I made after I moved to Whitefish.”

He set his fork down, giving me his full attention. “I sensed the necklace was something extra special.”

“It is.” My stomach warmed. How could he read me so well? “My dad took me camping in Glacier Park when I was ten. We explored the surrounding areas and found a pair of nesting bald eagles here in Whitefish. We watched them for hours. They soared, hunted, and added sticks to their nest. The eagles seemed so in sync, working together for their future offspring.”

“That must’ve been a sight to see,” he said.

“It was.” I fingered my bald eagle charm. “I fell in love with Whitefish that first day. The animals, the hiking, the mountains, the rivers . . . all of nature’s magical beauty. After college, I came back here for a visit to see if the area moved me as much as I remembered. It did. My dad died a few years later, but I still feel him here. In all the things we did and saw and shared on these mountains. I never returned to San Francisco.”

His eyes clouded. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

I nodded, my throat tightening. “Thanks.”

He leaned toward me. “You came here all by yourself? That’s very brave.”

I stared down at the crumbs on my plate. “I was actually pretty scared to be on my own for the first time, so far away in this tiny little town, isolated from everyone I knew and loved with only my small business to support me.” I paused, remembering those first days, and the fear came rushing back. Then I lifted my head. My gaze locked with comforting blue eyes across the table, and a warm feeling washed over me. “It was my secret dream to live in Whitefish ever since that camping trip with my dad. My mom protested big time. To tell you the truth, she still bugs me to move back to the city. But . . . this is my home now.”

Dave was quiet for a moment and I worried that I’d said too much. But when I studied him more closely I was stunned to discover the look of amazement on his face.

“I felt the exact same way about this place.” His voice was soft, barely a whisper. Then he cleared his throat. “I came to Whitefish with friends for spring break in college. Once I’d skied Big Mountain—felt the cold powder whoosh up all around—something changed inside me. I felt a peace I’d never known before. When I received the opportunity to work from home, I had to take that leap of faith and move here. Everyone thinks I’m crazy.”

I smiled, understanding exactly how he felt, in more ways than one. “I get what you’re saying about a leap of faith. My parents wanted me to move back to the city, and my friends, too. It was a lot of pressure, and one day I debated whether or not to listen to them while I was sitting by the lake out there . . .” I gestured past the window at Whitefish Lake, and looked out at the reflection of tree-lined mountains in the glassy water. “I sat on a fallen log, glanced up at the sky, and asked a silent question.”

“What?” His voice was barely a whisper.

“I asked for a sign to tell me if I should build my nest here, or go.” I closed my eyes, remembering that moment years ago. “Then a bald eagle suddenly swooped over my head, powerful and amazing. A rush of adrenaline shot through me and I can still see that majestic bird gliding toward its nest with his dark wings spread wide.”

“Incredible,” he whispered.

“So I ignored everyone’s rational arguments and listened to my heart.” I opened my eyes and found Dave sitting alert in his seat, hands folded on the table. I’d never told anyone that story before, but somehow I knew he’d understand. “My dad had told me bald eagles were the epitome of strength and bravery. I totally agree.”

“They’re amazing birds.” Dave’s resolute voice brought me back to the present.

I lifted my lashes. “I’d considered giving up hope. Giving up on my dreams. And then that majestic bird flew across the sky and filled me with strength. Time stood still. I could feel the breeze against my face and the whisper of the trees telling me to be brave and that everything would work out. It felt like a sign.” I shrugged, eased one hand back, and clasped my necklace. “That might sound silly—”

“It doesn’t,” he said, his tone firm.

“I designed this charm that afternoon and then called my mom and told her I was staying here permanently.” As I told him that, I released the charm. It dropped back to rest tucked into my clavicle and felt warm against my skin, reminding me to be brave in any situation.

Dave seemed to read my mind because he asked, “What does your mom think of you being out here still? Does she understand now?”

“Not really.” I lifted a shoulder, then took the last bite of sorbet, the cold berry flavor bursting against my tongue. “After seeing the bald eagle, I’d made the decision to stay. My mom still worries about me, though. Currently, she’s worried you’re an axe murderer and that she’ll never see me again,” I blurted.

Dave choked on his beer. “Well, I take it as a compliment that you told your mom about me. Tell her to rest assured I don’t even own an axe.”

I rubbed my forehead, then placed my hand on the table, embarrassed that I’d told him about my overprotective mom. But I wanted to be brave and let him get to know the real me. “She tends to overreact but she means well.”