“Ah, I see,” Rune muttered seconds later as he perused the menu.
I laughed again. “Shall we go somewhere else?”
“Absolutely not,” he said. “I'm up for trying something new.”
“Well, at least you can choose three things.”
He sighed deeply and pressed his lips together.
I laughed again.
Rune looked up, grinned, and said, “It's worth it, just to hear you laugh.”
I inclined my head. “Nicely done.”
“I'm a smooth talker.” He winked at me. “Best be on guard.”
“Oh, I knew to be on guard as soon as I agreed to go out with a hound.”
Rune's grin turned wicked.
But then our waiter arrived. He went through the spiel of how the courses worked and explained the dishes offered for us to choose from. He also asked if we had any dietary restrictions—something that had Rune looking worried. The waiter took our drink orders and left us to decide. There were two savory courses to select and one dessert.
“I recommend the lamb and the wagyu,” I said. “The sablefish is also very good if you like seafood.”
“For fuck's sake,” Rune muttered. “How many times have you been here?”
“A few,” I said with a grin.
“This is one of those places with tiny food, isn't it?”
“Yes, but they give you a lot of tiny food.”
“We may be going for burgers after this.”
“I'd rather go for ice cream.”
“I like ice cream.”
“Of course, you like ice cream. Who doesn't like ice cream? It's the ambrosia of Earth.”
Rune chuckled and set his menu aside. “Seventh Day Adventists. I don't think they like ice cream.”
“Oh, they like it. They just think they shouldn't.”
Rune burst out laughing. It was a good laugh—from the belly and heart. And it had every woman in the room staringat him with longing. Even the eighty-something lady two tables over. And a few men too. His laugh certainly got my attention.
I set my menu on top of Rune's and sat back in my seat to enjoy the view. And this time, it wasn't the one of the lake.
The waiter returned with our drinks and took our orders, promising many other courses that would “delight and thrill our tastebuds.” Then he was off. Waiters at Canlis were attentive without hovering. It was perfection. As was the first course—one of the chef's choices. Little pieces of asparagus had been sauteed and set atop a perfect circle of buttery sauce, with a fried quail's egg leaning to one side.
Rune made a happy sound as he ate it. In two bites. Then he leaned back as if he expected the next course to arrive immediately. When it didn't, he frowned.
“It will be here soon,” I assured him.
He cocked his head at me. “You have a look to you that I haven't seen before. Native American, yes?”
“Yes.”
