Her mom rarely hugged any man, especially one she’d never met before.
“Your daughter is very special, Mrs. Cavanaugh, so it’s my pleasure.” Donna released him, and he looked at Charlotte when he said, “I promise, I won’t let anything happen to her.”
Hawk’s confidence was there in his proud stance and his unflinching eye contact. He wasn’t just reassuring her mom, he was reassuring Charlotte, too.
Normally, she would give her mom the lowdown on a guy before she ever brought him around her. It was a deal they’d made the first time a boy in high school asked Charlotte to the prom.
Unfortunately, these were far from normal circumstances. And things with Hawk seemed to have progressed at lightning speed. One minute, she was mooning over a man she thought was out of her league, and the next,BAM, he had his lips on hers. Real or not, it was the hottest damn kiss she’d ever had.
“Thank you, and, please, call me Donna.” She smiled looked down at Remy. “And who is this gorgeous fellow?”
“This is my partner, Remy, short for Remington.”
“May I pet him?” Donna asked.
“Absolutely.” Hawk looped the dog’s leash handle loosely over the back of his chair. “Remy loves attention.”
He was also very well-trained and wouldn’t make a move without Hawk’s instruction.
Calliope moved back to the table to give Donna room to squat down and give him some attention. She spent a few minutes stroking his soft muzzle, the top of his head, all while talking baby talk to him.
Charlotte could’ve sworn Remy was smiling the entire time.
“I’d like to wash my hands, if that’s okay.” Her mom stood. “No offense, Remy.”
“I need to do the same, so I’ll go with you.” Calliope escorted her toward the back.
Hawk pulled out Charlotte’s chair for her and remained standing until Calliope and her mom returned. He slid out her mom’s chair and made a move to do the same for Calliope.
“You’re kidding, right?” She rolled her eyes, yanked out her own chair, and dropped down onto it.
“Hey there, Patrick, it’s good to see you.” An older, portly woman with chubby cheeks, a face lined by years of laughter and smiles, and a head full of steel-gray hair pulled back in a low bun strolled up to their table. She was carrying a tray with four glasses of iced water. “Good to see you again, Calliope.”
“You, too, Brenda. Please tell me you’ve got some of your yummy beef stew back there.” Calliope accepted a glass of water. “Thanks.”
“We sure do. Roger has a fresh pot all ready to go.” Brenda finished passing out the glasses of water.
“Yes!” Calliope did a fist pump in the air.
Hawk introduced Brenda to Charlotte and her mom.
“Brenda and her husband, Roger, own The Chicken Nest.”
“Yep. We opened this place comin’ up on forty-one years ago.” Brenda set the tray on a nearby table.
“That’s incredible.” Charlotte wondered why they decided to open a restaurant in such an isolated place.
“All four of our children and thirteen grandchildren have worked here at one time or another. She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “Our second-youngest grandson is washing dishes in the kitchen as we speak. He’s saving up to buy his first car.”
What a wonderful way for their kids and grandkids to learn about responsibility and earning what you want through hard work and dedication. Charlotte’s faith in humanity had taken a bit of a hit recently, so hearing stories like Brenda’s gave her hope that all was not lost.
“Let me tell you about today’s specials.” She rattled off a list of five different entrees. “For dessert, we have brownies, chocolate chip cookies, and fresh apple pie. And we can add a scoop of vanilla ice cream to any of those.”
“I’ve had all of them, and they’re all amazing.” Hawk smiled up at Brenda.
“Yes, you have.” She dug into her apron pocket and lifted out an order pad, then grabbed the yellow, number two pencil from where it was tucked over her ear. “So, what can I get y’all?”
Everybody ordered one of the daily specials—Charlotte and her mom had the meat loaf with steamed broccoli, Calliope had the stew with cornbread, and Hawk got the almond-crusted rainbow trout and a baked potato with all the fixin’s.
