A server in a black apron and a high ponytail that whipped side to side as she walked greeted Avery. She didn’t have a name tag and didn’t offer an introduction. “One?”
“I’m meeting someone. A blind date … from an app …” She trailed off, not sure how much she should divulge and how much made her look like a dating noob.
“Right.” The woman perked up, her ponytail swinging away. “We’ve had a few of you come in already. Follow me.”
Avery fell in step behind her, her mind burning with curiosity. “How’d they go? The other blind dates?”
The server smiled as she motioned to a table for two behind the partition. “Fine, I guess.”
“So no one ran out of here screaming?” Avery set her purse on the chair next to her as she settled into the bow of the chair. It cradled her nicely as her nerves threatened to burst from her skin.
“You’d be the first.” The server patted her arm, bringing to attention the grip Avery had on the seat.
Her fingers straightened. “Sorry. First date jitters.”
“Been there. Relax. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”
Easy for her to say. She had the innocence of youth on her side. What did Avery have? A child, a mortgage, a dead husband, and a muffin top she was desperate to hide. She folded her arms over her stomach.
“Can I get you something to settle your mood?” The server tipped her head to the bar.
“I’ll just sip water.” She watched another couple, wondering if they were from Capture My Heart as well. If they were, things were going well. They held hands and smiled at one another, their food forgotten and going cold.
Her water came, and she thanked the server with a smile. She checked the time, wondering if she’d come too early. Nope. He was late. She held back her sigh. There were a million reasons for tardiness. Traffic had been poor for her. Parking in Seattle was always a challenge. Working late?
She forced out a breath, her lungs too tight. What was she doing trying to date again? Her foot bounced, tapping the floor like a steel drum.Rat-tat-tat.
Fifteen minutes and one destroyed napkin later, her server appeared. “Do you want to order an appetizer or meal?” Her gaze darted to the floor in sympathy.
A shudder of humiliation rippled through Avery.Stood up on a blind date. How pathetic.
“It’s covered by the app.”
Well, then. Avery plucked the menu from behind the salt and pepper shakers. “I’ll have the Voodoo Burger and Hattie’s Fries with tartar sauce.”
“Cajun or regular?”
“Cajun, please.”
“Of course.” The server gave her ayou go, girlgrin, flipped her ponytail, and hurried off to put in her order.
The trauma of first-dating melting away now that the pressure was off. Landon would be glad that she’d enjoyed the dinner he’d procured, and she wouldn’t have to make small talk with a stranger—nice ears or no. Besides, it didn’t matter how nice your ears were if you didn’t show up for a date.
Her food was delivered, steaming and smelling divine. She’d have to find a way to come back here with Claire. A sign for karaoke night hung on the wooden partition. They hadn’t been out for people watching in ages. She frowned as she twirled a fry in the tartar sauce. Karaoke could be fun. More for watching than singing, but she’d been known to carry a tune.
Becoming a stick in the mud was no bueno. What she needed was to change things up. She bit into the fry and immediately gasped—they were spicy. She fanned her face and clutched her water glass, gulping.
“Avery, I presume?”
The water she tried to swallow grabbed on to her throat, and it was a moment before she could breathe. Her eyes pricked with unshed tears as her gaze followed long legs up a trim torso to a face sculpted by devil angles who tempt women into unholy thoughts. His clear brown eyes containing a dash of adventure stole her breath away.
“Yes,” she shrilled. Clearing her throat, she applied as much cool as she could muster. “Yes?”
“I’m Walker.”
Curses!Avery dropped the hand fanning her face and lurched to her feet like a puppet on stiff stings.Nice first impression.Her girly insides were all melty at the sight of him, and she couldn’t seem to gather enough oxygen to stop panting. But that was the Cajun, right?
* * *
