“I’m sorry, Amy, I was unaware you don’t eat meat,” Katrina said, spooning potatoes onto her plate. Everyone else was helping themselves to various vegetables. I grabbed the dish of carrots, spooned some onto my plate, and passed it to Ethan.
“Wow, surely not something the great Katrina Tolle doesn’t know,” Robert said, winking at her.
Between mouthfuls, the conversation around the table flowed freely. We chatted about normal everyday stuff like the weather, good eateries, places to shop, and nice places to visit.
“Amy, you really should get Ethan to take you to Church Falls. It’s the most beautiful waterfall a few hours’ hike up through the mountains, but so worth it. You could take a tent and camp there—Robert and I have done it a few times. It’s lovely, isn’t it, Robert?”
“Yes, dear. The walk is a little harder these days, though. But okay for you young ones.”
“Yes, Amy, we should do that, don’t you think?” Ethan said.
“Sounds lovely,” I answered, shooting a kick into his calf under the table.
Despite Ethan’s teasing—which seemed to delight him to no end—and my reservations, I found myself enjoying the night, and the company. Katrina and Robert were lovely, kind, down-to-earth people. They had one child, Claire, who’d deferred her studies as an environmental lawyer and was away traveling in the Himalayas.
Bob and Marg had moved a lot in their life together. This was Bob’s third bookstore. Each time they moved, he would have many of the older books he owned sent in containers, as he couldn’t bear to part with them. He had a large room at home where he kept his dearest collections. Their daughter, Sarah, was a nurse who also liked to travel. She would be home soon for a holiday, and Bob would close the store for a few weeks to spend time with her.
A few hours later we were sitting in the lounge, and exhaustion rolled over my shoulders. I glanced at Ethan; he was standing at the unlit fireplace chatting to Bob. He looked down, and I wasn’t sure if he saw I was tired or if he’d had enough as well.
“Well, it’s getting late,” he said, glancing at his watch. “It’s time to go, if that’s alright with you, Amy?”
“Of course.”
We said our goodbyes.
“Don’t leave it so long next time, Ethan. You and Amy are welcome anytime,” Katrina said as we walked out the door.
“Thank you for having me, Katrina. It was a lovely night.”
“You’re welcome, Amy.”
She hugged Ethan and kissed his cheek as I headed down the steps. The air was mild, and the scent of roses wafted into my nose. It was peaceful, the kind of night I would have loved to light a campfire and lie back, looking at the stars.
“Take care of her—she’s a good one,” Katrina said in a hushed voice. I assumed she didn’t intend for me to overhear, so I pretended not to. Ethan responded, but I couldn’t make out what he said.
He caught up to me, then opened the car door, and I slid inside.
“How did you know I’m a vegetarian?” I asked as we pulled out onto the road.
He glanced across. “I was in the diner the first day you came in and ordered the vegetarian burger.”
I frowned. I would have noticed someone as hot as him in there . . .
“That hardly proves I’m a vegetarian.”
“True, but your crinkled nose when you glanced at the meat on the tray left little to the imagination.”
I grimaced and hoped Katrina hadn’t noticed. I changed the subject. “How long have you lived above the bar?”
“I don’t live above the bar; I stay there sometimes when it’s convenient.”
“You mean when you want to shag?” I responded dryly.
He raised his brows. “Shag? Really, Amy. That’s not very ladylike.”
I eyed him with half-feigned disdain. “Seriously? You hump anything that walks, and you’re questioning my decency?”
“Firstly, I do not ‘hump’ or ‘shag’—as you so elegantly put it—anything that walks. I have standards.”
