Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Haters are gonna hate,” I reply with a shrug. “I’m glad that you take precautions. But I’m not you. I’m just a small business owner in small-town Montana.”
“You’re not just anything,” he says, and with his free hand, drags his fingertips down my jawline. He does that a lot, and it always sends goose bumps down my arms. “I did have one major incident happen around the holidays last year. Actually, it had been going on for a while but came to a head around the holidays. Anyway, I know this is just the first date, but I already know that I don’t want it to be the last, and I thought you should be aware. I’ll always keep you safe.”
“I know.” I want to know more about the major incident and decide to ask him about it over dinner. I smile at him, and my stomach growls. “Thanks for sharing that with me. Now, I’m hungry, Mr. Wild.”
His smile lights up the whole truck, and he starts the engine and drives us toward the ski resort.
“We’re going to Soleil Grill at the resort,” he says. “Have you been?”
“Not in a long time, but I love French food. We have most of our Iconic Women’s Collective meetings at Snow Ghost, the bar up there. It’s so beautiful. I know that a lot of locals hated when it was all built, but I think it’s gorgeous.”
“I do, too,” he replies. “I’d like to hear more about your collective.”
I grin over at him. “It’s one of my favorite subjects.”
“Over dinner, then.”
He parks the truck under the portico, and a young man rushes over to take the key fob from Ryan and passes him a ticket for the valet.
Once inside, we’re escorted to a private table with a view of the mountains that never fails to take my breath away.
“You know, I was born here,” I say, ignoring my menu altogether, “but the view never gets old.”
He follows my gaze and nods. “I agree. There’s nowhere like it in the world.”
The waitress arrives with a smile and fills our water glasses. “Hi, I’m Hillary, and I’ll be your server this evening. What would you like to drink? We have some excellent wines available.”
Ryan looks at me and raises his eyebrow. “Do you mind if I order the wine?”
“Please do.”
“We’d like the LaTour 2010 Merlot, please.”
She nods, writing it down. “Excellent choice. Do you need time with the menu, or would you like to order an appetizer? I highly recommend the puff pastry wreath with brie.”
“Oh, that sounds really good.” I grin at her. “Of course, it’s cheese, so you’re speaking my language.”
“I agree,” Ryan says. “Let’s do that, and we’ll check out the rest of the menu.”
“Excellent,” Hillary replies and bustles off to get our order started.
“Okay,” Ryan begins, leaning forward. “Tell me about the Collective.”
“I’m sure your sister has told you some,” I reply.
“Millie never tells me everything.” He shakes his head. “Besides, I want to hear it from you.”
“Well, it came about because my circle of friends and I are all business owners, and we really just want to lift each other up, help each other, you know?”
He nods and sips his ice water.
“But then we realized that there’s a need for a sense of community, a place to learn from each other, whether it’s about marketing, strategy, or just simply brainstorming. The meetings are so fun, and we always have a guest speaker to give us food for thought. I got the idea for the light furniture I just bought from someone at a meeting not long ago, and I found someone who is a genius when it comes to branding. I love it.”
“It sounds amazing,” he agrees, sitting back when Hilary brings the bottle of wine. She uncorks it and does the thing where you pour just a sip into a glass and presents it to Ryan. He sniffs it, then takes a sip, tasting it. “That’s great.”
I happen to glance at the wine list sitting on the table and about swallow my tongue at the price of this bottle.
Jesus, that’s my mortgage payment. For one bottle of wine!
But I don’t say a word as my glass is poured, and when he holds his glass up, he grins at me.
“To first dates.”
“To first dates,” I echo, and we clink our glasses together. This wine is rich and slides down my throat so nicely. I hum in surprise. “Wow, that’s amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Me, too, given what you paid for it.” I slap my hand over my mouth and stare at him in shock. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
CHAPTER SIX
RYAN
Ican’t help but chuckle at the complete and utter horror on Polly’s face. “It’s fine, Polly.”
“That was rude,” she says in a loud whisper, looking around to see if anyone heard her. “And I’m sorry for it.”