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Her brows pinch together as if they’re yelling at me. We’re interrupted when Chef hands us the menus. “Please let me know if I can accommodate anything.”
He walks away, and Raeann’s gaze darts everywhere once again, at all the empty chairs and tables. When she returns her gaze to me, she holds it for a long time.
When she doesn’t ask the question burning in her eyes, I answer anyway. “I decided I wanted to be the only one who got the chance to look at you tonight.”
“But…”
“I bought out the restaurant, Raeann. One of my teammates owns the place.”
“Davis Hawks.”
I nod, taking a sip of water. She does the same, keeping her eyes on me. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know I didn’t. I just didn’t want to get jealous every time someone else looked at you.”
Her cheeks blush, and I wonder if the same heat runs lower. “Sounds like you might be the jealous type.”
“With you, yes.”
“Past relationships?”
I smile, wondering how long she’s been wanting to ask me that question. “I date occasionally. I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in a couple of years.”
“Stella Collins, the actress.”
I shift uncomfortably.
“Sorry,” she blurts out. “I swear I don’t know everything about you.”
“It wasn’t that you knew her name,” I explain. “Stella makes me uncomfortable because of what I thought I lost when we broke up.”
“You thought she was the one?”
I nod. The waiter comes over, and I ask for their best bottle of red. “Do you have someone like that?”
She laughs to herself. “Davey Perkins. We were nine.” She giggles into her napkin. “I was in love with that boy. His daddy owned the sawmill in town.”
“Gold digger.”
Her mouth drops and a bemused laugh pops out. “Hey, he was my first kiss. Back then, I thought that meant we were practically married.”
“Tell me about her,” I ask.
“Who?”
“Little Raeann.”
She looks away wistfully, but there’s a sadness there, too. “I used to run wild in the fields. The little creek by our house was my friend. For most of my life, it was just me and…Daddy. And Granny and Pawpaw, of course.”
Her light dims a little when she mentions her dad.
“You?” she asks.
“Oh, you don’t know?” I joke.
She laughs, her voice filling the empty space. Chef comes back out then, and we both concentrate on ordering our meals. I get a steak, and surprisingly, so does Raeann.
“I’m excited about this,” she states as Chef walks away. She takes a sip of red wine. “Let’s see, what do I know about you? You went to UNC. When you got drafted to the Wildcats, my pawpaw did a little dance around the room. Can’t say I know much about your pre-college career, but I’m almost one hundred percent positive you’re not from around here.”