I got up and took them to the kitchen so I could put them in water. Flowers weren’t going to change my decision, but I wasn’t ready to have that conversation with him.
He disappeared into the bedroom while I unwrapped the flowers, cut the stems, and placed them in a vase.
“Hey babe?” he called as he came out. He’d changed into a navy T-shirt and a pair of cargo pants. “I was thinking we should just go out to dinner tonight. There’s this new place the guys have been talking about. Sounds good.”
My stomach rumbled at the mention of food. I certainly wasn’t in the mood to cook. It would mean sitting awkwardly across the table from Sean, but I could handle it.
“Sure, we can go out.”
“Awesome. Do you need to change or anything?”
I glanced down at my black dress. “Where are we going? Is this too dressy?”
“No, it’s a nice place. You look great.”
“Okay.” I put the last rose in the vase and cleaned up the cut stems before grabbing my purse and putting on my black trench coat.
We left and I climbed into his truck. Hard rock blared from the speakers as soon as he turned it on. I leaned back against the seat, as if the wave of noise had shoved me.
He turned it down without comment as he pulled out of the driveway.
I’d assumed we were going into town, but he took the route to the highway and went south.
“Where are we going? It’s not in Tilikum?”
“No, Echo Creek.”
“Who told you about it?”
“Some of the guys at work.”
I wondered if that meant it was a sports bar.
The hard rock he listened to was not my style—I was more of a nineties pop girl—but after long moments of silence, I was grateful there was something in the background. Several minutes later, he turned up the volume, and his playlist kept us company for the rest of the drive.
Echo Creek was a cute town about half an hour from home. We parked outside the downtown restaurant and he held the door for me as we went in. The ambiance was nice. Very classy with white tablecloths and flickering flameless candles. It was packed, with only one or two empty tables to be seen, and servers dressed in black maneuvered in the dim light.
Definitely not what I’d been expecting—it wasn’t a sports bar at all. I was still looking around in surprise, wondering which of his friends had suggested such a nice place, when Sean told the hostess he had a reservation. I teetered on the edge of annoyance. Once again, he’d made plans without asking me first. Was it because he wanted to treat me to a nice dinner? Or was he just barreling forward, doing what he wanted and assuming I’d go along with it?
The host led us to our table. It was roughly in the center of the dining room, with tables on either side of us. He set menus at each place setting and told us our server would be with us shortly.
I shrugged off my coat and let it drape over the back of my chair, then picked up the menu.
“What do you think?” Sean asked. “Nice place, huh?”
I glanced around. “Very.”
“Should we get a bottle of wine?”
“A whole bottle? I don’t think I’ll have more than one glass.”
“Come on, babe. Why not? They’re supposed to have really good wine here. It’s from the winery up the road.”
I didn’t think we needed an entire bottle, but I decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. “Okay, wine would be nice.”
The server came and Sean ordered a bottle of cabernet and calamari for an appetizer. I kept perusing the menu, trying to decide between something with chicken and a pork dish that sounded good.
A few minutes later, she came back with our wine, poured, and took our orders. I opted for the chicken and Sean ordered a New York strip steak.
