“You clean up pretty well yourself,” I said, which was the understatement of the year. Even though he was still wearing his leather biker’s cut, everything else he was wearing had been greatly upgraded. From his designer black denim jeans to his tailor fit dress shirt and all the way down to a gorgeous pair of cowboy boots, this man knew how to dress. Not to mention, a freshly manicured beard and hair that would make a super model jealous. If GQever wanted to do a feature on motorcycle clubs, Snarl would be a shoe-in for the cover.
“Shall we?” Snarl asked, opening and holding the door for me.
“Such a gentleman,” I said, as I slid by his massive frame. “I promise I won’t out you to your club brothers.”
Snarl gave me what looked like a polite smile just before we were greeted by a pretty, young hostess.
“Good evening, welcome to the Saddle Rack. Two for dinner tonight?”
“I made a seven o’clock reservation for a booth under the name Snarl.”
The hostess ran her finger down the reservation list on the podium. “Okay, right this way. I’ll show you to your booth.”
According to the giant billboardslining the interstate for ten miles in both directions, the ‘world famous’ Saddle Rack promised homestyle southern cooking, twenty craft beers on tap, and live country and western music three nights a week for our listening and dancing enjoyment. The place was much larger than it looked from the outside, and housed a stage, framed by a massive PA system and lighting rig. In front of the stage was a large dance floor which was thankfully empty. I’d been quietly dreading the dancing part of Snarl’s invitation and was relieved to not have to embarrass myself in front of our fellow patrons, as the dining area was set up in a horseshoe shape around the dance floor. To the left was a miniature rodeo ring with a mechanical bull at its center. I immediatelymade myself a promise that no matter how much I drank tonight I would not, under any circumstances, get on that mechanized demon.
Once at our table Snarl waited for me to slide in first, causing me to let out a quiet chortle.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing, it’s just that no one’s ever actually done that for me. I thought it was something guys only did in old black and white movies.”
“Well, it’s not like I could pull out a chair for you,” he pointed out.
“Would you have done that?” I asked as I slid across the bench seat.
“Absolutely. My old man would come back from the grave and slap me upside the back of the head if I didn’t show you proper manners,” he said, taking his seat beside me.
Once we were seated, our server came by and took our drink orders.
“I’ll have a vodka martini, dirty as possible please,” I said, earning myself one of Snarl’s sexy smirks.
“If you’ve got a pilsner, I’ll take a pint of that please.”
“We have a Bierstadt pilsner on tap,” our server replied.
“Perfect,” Snarl said.
As soon as a server left the table Snarl reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden box.
I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled.
“Don’t worry,” he said with a smile. “I’m not proposing. It’s just a little first date gesture. I would have brought you flowers, but I didn’t know what we’d do with them, and I couldn’t exactly bring a vase withme. Sorry about that,” he said.
“No, it’s okay, really. To tell you the truth, I’m not particularly crazy about flowers.”
“Really? I thought just about every woman loved getting flowers.”
“Exactly,” I replied. “I’m one of the ‘just abouts.’”
Snarl smiled wide. “Of that, I have no doubt. You’re certainly not like any woman I’ve ever met.”
I felt my face go flush as I studied the details of the box. “This is beautiful.”
“I carved it for you.”
“You made this yourself? For me?”
“Yes, go ahead and open it.”
