Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Emery
The fog accompanies us to the restaurant with the tenacity of a nosy chaperone.
“It’s nice to be able to walk everywhere,” I say, glancing up at Declan.
He doesn’t respond right away. Maybe he’s never given a lot of thought to living in a small town. Or maybe he’s given it too much thought. “It is, until you’re ready for a change of scenery.”
“Are you? You said you’ve lived here your whole life, right?”
“I have.” He stops in front of a narrow, undecorated door. Nothing except for a wooden sign hanging above the door with the words Hollow Hearth carved into it indicates a business exists.
Declan pulls the door open, and gestures for me to step inside. The scent of roasted garlic and warm baked bread envelops me. My stomach rumbles. Maybe my steady diet of sugar and more sugar since I arrived in Crowsbridge Hollow has been a mistake.
Inside is all brick walls and mismatched wooden tables decorated with faux tealight candles. A long, shiny bar takes up one side of the room. The chalkboard menu above the bar boasts the words locally sourced ingredients and pasture raised.
A chipper hostess probably around my age steps in front of us, beaming up at Declan while ignoring my existence.
“Mr. Sterling!” She blinks and smiles so wide, it looks like she used toothpicks to prop open her jaw. “How nice to see you.”
I really need to reexamine this territorial feeling I have toward Declan. Just because we’re bound together by some curse doesn’t mean I need to slip into psycho mode every time a woman drifts into his orbit.
“Good evening, Harper.” He nods at the hostess and rests his hand on my lower back. “I’m showing my friend Emery around the Hollow and figured I had to start with the best food in town.”
The hostess—Harper apparently—blushes and ducks her head. “I’ll tell my dad you said that.” She glances at me and a slow frown works over her face. “Is this your first visit to Crowsbridge Hollow?” she asks, grabbing two menus from behind a podium without taking her eyes off me.
“It is, yes.”
She quickly shakes her head. “Oh, you look familiar for some reason.” Her frown deepens.
I shrug, unsure of what to say to that. Is she planning to seat us, or not?
“Emery!” Her eyes widen with shock and what I hope is happiness. “Emery Corbin? Curious Crow?”
Still not used to being recognized out in the wild, I stammer, “That’s my YouTube channel, yes.”
“Wow! I love your channel.” She squeezes her eyes shut like she’s mentally reviewing all my episodes. “I loved your investigation into the Salem Point Hotel. I’ve watched it like three times.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling embarrassed now. Other patrons and the guy behind the bar are starting to stare.
Two more customers step in the door, crowding us forward. Declan clears his throat and gives Harper a pointed look.
“How do you feel about the window table?” she asks Declan.
He glances at me and I shrug. I just want to get out of the way and have people stop staring at me. “Anywhere is fine,” I murmur.
He nods and Harper leads us to a private nook with a table and two chairs set in front of a large floor-to-ceiling window.
Declan pulls out my chair and I almost swoon to the floor. Can’t remember the last time a guy did that for me.
“Thank you,” I whisper as I slide into the chair and he helps me push it in.
His large frame practically dwarfs the seat across from me.
Harper hands us the menus, still flashing her pageant smile. “Tonight’s specials are the maple-glazed pork chop with roasted apples, the butternut squash risotto, and our pan-seared trout in brown-butter lemon sauce. And the venison shepherd’s pie is back.” She nods at Declan like she already knows it’s his favorite. “Everyone’s been asking for it.” She pauses, tapping her chin. “Oh! And Gloria made this pumpkin ravioli with toasted walnuts and parmesan cream. It’s amazing.”
“I don’t know if I even need to look at my menu,” I say, staring at the short list of the regular dishes in front of me. “All of those sound so good.”
“I’ll give you a minute and bring some bread and water,” Harper chirps before gliding off.
Declan leans forward, elbows on the table. “What are you thinking?” His steady gaze bores into me as if my dinner selection is his top priority.
“I’m torn between the pork and the pumpkin ravioli,” I admit, praying he doesn’t make fun of me for wanting to order something seasonal.
He nods slowly. “You can’t go wrong with anything you pick. Gloria’s solid.” He drops his gaze to his menu. “Order both if you want.”
“I can’t eat two meals.”
He leans back and pats his stomach. “I’ll eat whatever you don’t. No worries.”
His expression is so full of boyish charm that laughter bursts out of me before I can stop it. “Is that how you grew so big and strong?”