“We can still cancel,” he offers as we pull into the restaurant’s parking lot. “Say you got food poisoning. Or I did. Or we both did from Millie’s hash browns.”
“Those hash browns were perfect and you know it,” I say, but I squeeze his hand, feeling the calluses from all his recent construction work. “It’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t know my brothers when they get going,” he warns, putting the truck in park but not moving to get out. “They’re going to be insufferable about us.”
“Good,” I say, surprising myself with how much I mean it. “I’d rather have them tease us than tiptoe around everything.”
Harbor & Ash glows warm against the evening sky, all exposed brick and Edison bulbs visible through the large windows. Even on a Tuesday, the place is packed—couples on dates leaning into each other over candlelight, business dinners with men in suits that look out of place in Dark River, tourists who’ve heard about the James Beard nomination and made the drive from Seattle just to say they’d been here.
Theo and Alex have built something special, transforming what used to be Murphy’s Seafood—a dive that smelled like old grease and desperation—into the kind of restaurant that hasSeattle food critics making the drive north and writing breathless reviews about “elevated coastal cuisine.”
The hostess lights up when she sees Calvin. “Mr. Midnight! Your brothers are already here. They’re at the chef’s table tonight.”
She leads us through the main dining room, weaving between tables, the smell of garlic and wine and something incredible wafting from the kitchen. The chef’s table sits in view of the kitchen, close enough to see the controlled chaos of service but separated by a wall of glass. It’s where Theo and Alex seat family, VIPs, and apparently, us.
“There they are,” Alex calls out as we approach, already standing with a grin that promises trouble. “The worst-kept secret in Dark River.”
“Subtle, Alex,” Theo says, but he’s smiling as he embraces me briefly, then grips Calvin’s hand in a firm shake that turns into a half-hug.
“Thanks for coming, Maren,” he says, pulling out my chair. “Both of you. I know this was last minute.”
“Thanks for inviting us,” I say, settling into the seat. My hands won’t stop fidgeting with my napkin, which is ridiculous. I’ve known Theo and Alex for years, they’re at my bar constantly, arguing about sports and leaving decent tips. Theo and I practically share custody of Laila. But sitting here as Calvin’s girlfriend, or whatever I am, while we all navigate the awkwardness of the cabin situation? That’s new territory. Calvin’s knee presses against mine under the table, steady and reassuring.
“Wine?” Theo offers, holding up a bottle. “This is from that vineyard Mom loved up in Woodinville.”
“The one where she tried to convince them to name a wine after Dad?” Calvin asks, and his face softens at the memory.
“She brought his picture and everything,” Alex confirms, grinning. “Said ‘Hank’s Red’ had a nice ring to it.”
“The sommelier didn’t know how to tell her no,” Theo says, pouring generous glasses for everyone.
“She was so earnest about it,” Calvin adds, shaking his head, and suddenly they’re all laughing.
I sip the wine and feel the atmosphere shift. Calvin’s laughing, really laughing with his brothers, and the nervous energy we walked in with starts to fade. My own shoulders drop as I realize this might actually be okay. We might get through this dinner intact.
“So,” Alex says, leaning back in his chair with that troublemaker grin, water glass in hand. “How long has this been going on?” He gestures between Calvin and me with a piece of bread. “Because from what I hear, you two are the hot new couple of Dark River.”
Calvin laughs, his arm sliding along the back of my chair. “A little while now,” he says easily, fingers brushing my shoulder. “Though apparently we weren’t as subtle as we thought.”
“Betty at the post office told me she knew something was up when Calvin started smiling,” Alex says. “Said it was unnatural.”
“I smile,” Calvin says, mock-offended.
“Not like that you don’t,” Theo says, gesturing at Calvin’s face. “That’s what we’re talking about. That right there.”
“What?” Calvin demands.
“You look happy,” Alex says simply. “It’s weird on you.”
Calvin laughs and throws a piece of bread at him, which Alex catches easily. “Asshole.”
“But a correct asshole,” Alex grins.
“Anyway,” Theo says, turning to me with warmth in his eyes, “we’re really glad about this. About you two.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling Calvin’s thumb trace small circles on my shoulder.
“All right, enough embarrassing me in front of my girlfriend,” Calvin says, but he’s still smiling. “Can we order?”
