A Cowboy for the CEO

Chapter 17: Maneater

Sunday passed by at an arthritic snail's pace. Although Ali couldn't avoid questions about her day at the fair—the outing was public knowledge in a matter of hours— she kept both that goodbye kiss and her upcoming date a secret from even Pete and Wylda. Even so, nothing she did could take her mind off seeing Hank again, and her inattentiveness quickly drew suspicions.

"Well, are you in or not?" Pete nudged her at the lunch table.

She looked up from arranging the peas on her plate into a neat line. "Sorry, what?"

"Sailing this afternoon?" He emphasized each word separately. "Do you want to go?"

She was happy he was talking to her—or anyone else for that matter—and worried that a rejection would stall his progress. "Sure," she said, looking at her watch: eighteen past one.

While there were nearly six more hours to go, her intentions to humor Pete still almost cost Ali her plans with Hank.

Skippering the sailboat on the placid mountain lake was a welcome distraction until the rigging broke and left them out on the water for much longer than she had calculated. The delay only allowed for a quick shower, and Ali ended up running in her heels and zebra-print halter dress to avoid missing her ride. She caught her breath on the drive while touching up her makeup in the backseat, and as they pulled up to the curb in front of the tall redbrick building, her date was already there waiting.

Her date. The word sent a wave of excitement over her as she caught a glimpse of him. Wearing a perfectly tailored suit and tie—and without the cowboy hat for the first time—Hank looked like he'd just stepped out of a corporate boardroom instead of a pickup truck. Ever the gentleman, he opened the cab door and slid the fare to the driver before Ali even realized what he'd done. Taking her hand and helping her out, he smiled as his eyes traveled down her body.

"You look amazing," he said before planting a delicate kiss on her cheek.

Recalling their much more heated encounter from last night, Ali shivered in anticipation of how this evening could end.

"Thank you. You too," she said, unable to contain her grin when he placed a hand at the small of her back and led her down the sidewalk, up three steps, and through the revolving door.

"I hope you like this place," he said as they stepped into a large atrium running the full eight stories. Open hallways decorated in a soft glow of golds and reds circled each floor, giving the place an air of classic opulence. "It's a fairly well-known hotel in its own right, but the restaurant is definitely one of the best in the city."

"It's lovely," Ali agreed, acutely aware of the looks some of the other patrons—men and women alike—were giving her date as they walked through the reception area. She smiled in satisfaction, knowing that at least for the next few hours his attention would solely be on her.

The dining area, tucked into a separate room in the back corner and lit mostly with sconces and candles, was warm and intimate. Dark wood and maroon leather added to the luxurious atmosphere, and the tuxedo-wearing host promptly led them to a semicircular booth. Without waiting for the wine list, Hank ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir as they slid onto the bench.

"Since you're familiar with the place, I imagine you must eat here often?" Ali asked as she opened her menu.

"Not really," Hank said as he unbuttoned his jacket and shifted in his spot, making himself more comfortable. "But our parents used to bring us here for special occasions when we were kids, so I have fond memories of it."

He'd brought her to a place that was special to him—one with a personal connection—and on their first date, at that. Ali placed the menu back on the table and smiled. This was an excellent start, indeed.