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You’d better watch out or he’ll do the same with you, the inner voice warns. You should probably skip that dinner. If he gets you somewhere with candlelight, you’re done for, woman.
But I don’t tell Wes I’ve changed my mind about dinner. I simply slip into the tiny bathroom, wash up at the sink, and change into my dark brown sundress. I add a black cardigan as a nod to the chilly spring night and sweep on blush, lipstick, and mascara.
I want to look pretty for him.
That probably isn’t a good sign either, but the way his eyes light up when I emerge from the bathroom feels good.
Way too good…
Chapter 13
WESLEY
Finding a nice restaurant close to the highway, with a parking lot big enough to accommodate a twenty-foot camper is a challenge, but my Secrets of the Wandering Wild app does me a solid.
By the time Tessa emerges from the bathroom, I have reservations at a mom-and-pop Italian place just a short jaunt down the road and only a mile from a campground with plenty of sites available.
“Sounds great,” Tessa says, her gaze skimming up and down my frame, taking in my fresh jeans and a black button-down shirt. “You look nice.”
“So do you,” I say, taking the fact that she put on makeup as a good sign. She’s beautiful with or without it, but the extra effort, when there’s no one she knows around to see her, except me, feels significant. “Just give me a few minutes to shave and we can hit the road.”
“Or you could…not shave,” she says, with a breezy shrug. “I mean, if we don’t have time.” She shrugs again, her gaze lifting to the ceiling. “I don’t mind a little scruff.”
I arch a brow. “You don’t mind it?”
Her lips turn down at the edges as she shrugs again. “Nah, a little scruff never hurt anyone. And it makes you look a little bit like Bruce Willis from his action star days, when he’d get all sweaty and scruffy…”
My smile widens. “Yeah? I think that can be arranged. I looked at the weather forecast for the park. The average high is eighty degrees this week and not a cloud in sight. I can deliver sweat and scruff.”
She shrugs a third time—I think the lady doth shrug too much. “I mean, sure. If you want. That sounds nice. From a purely aesthetic perspective.”
“Purely aesthetic.” I reach over her head, closing the cabinet above the microwave, where I’m storing my toiletries until we have a chance to organize things. “Just a neutral appreciation of a man’s face sort of thing.”
“Right. It could be any man.”
“Really?” I flatten my palm against the cabinet as I lean in, bringing my face closer to hers. “Any man at all?”
She looks up, her lips parting. “I mean, not any man. Scruff wouldn’t improve Mr. Roid Rage. He’d still be an ugly meathead with a squashed nose.”
“He did have a squashed nose,” I agree. “With a weird texture, too. Like it had been run over by a dirt bike.”
“Right.” Her gaze slides down to my mouth with a sigh. “And I will admit, you do have very nice scruff. It’s very…even,” she says, her lips drifting closer to mine. “And dark, but not too dark.”
“That’s good to know,” I murmur, bending down, so desperate to taste her again that I forget Freya’s still loose until Tessa yips and pulls away.
A beat later, the ferret pokes her head through Tessa’s hair near her shoulder, watching me with narrowed eyes. “Oh my God, you scared me,” Tessa says, laughing as she reaches for her pet. “She’s never done that before. She just climbed right up the back of my dress.”
Freya dooks and clings to Tessa’s hand, shooting me a glance that lets me know I’m still on notice. But that’s okay. I’ll just add winning Freya’s trust to my list, right under convincing her mom to get on board with my crazy plan.
Fuck…I’m going to need all the help I can get with that one.
“How do you feel about red wine?” I ask as Tessa sits Freya in her little stuffed bed and we settle into our seats.
“I feel like it’s something we should have with dinner,” Tessa says. “Preferably two glasses, maybe three. After the past twenty-four hours, I think we deserve a wine buzz and a good night’s sleep with no alarm set for tomorrow morning.”
“Agreed. The reviews said the restaurant has a decent selection, considering it’s in the middle of nowhere in a two-room prison from the Wild West days.”
Tessa glances my way, excitement flashing in her eyes. “Yeah? That sounds interesting. I hope they have one of those menus that gives the entire history of the place on the back. I love a menu that reads like a novel.”
