DINNER DATE

At 10:00 AM, I finally lift my head off the pillow, noticing the damp patch of drool on the crisp white cotton. With a groan, I sit up and stretch, my mind still foggy and clinging to the remnants of sleep. I blink several times, trying to piece together last night's dream, but the details are hazy. The only hint that I dreamt of something—or someone—is the lingering warmth between my legs. Squeezing my thighs together, I feel a spark of pleasure and let out a sigh.

I stand and tiptoe across the wooden floorboards to where my robe and slippers are waiting on the chair. Wrapping the soft fabric around me and slipping my feet into wool skin Uggs, I head downstairs. As I touch my slightly swollen and tender throat, a wave of warmth spreads through me.

I swallow to ease the discomfort and start planning my day: wash the linen, read a few chapters of my book, and take a bath, making sure I have plenty of time before heading to Brady's at 6:30 PM.

When I open the fridge to grab milk for my coffee, I notice the leftover cottage pie from last night is gone. Did I eat in my sleep? Moving to the sink to run water for the pot, I spot the small white bowl that held the pie, now rinsed and sitting neatly, ready for the dishwasher.

What the?

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As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, marking early evening, I wrap up my day's chores—the linen is freshly washed, the house is spotless, and my hair has settled into soft waves down my back. Standing in front of the mirror, I take a moment to assess my outfit. I've chosen a long-sleeved black dress paired with matching boots and a simple camel brown, woolen coat—comfortable yet stylish, perfect for looking good without trying too hard.

Frowning at my reflection, I still look tired despite my efforts. I spritz on some extra perfume, letting the familiar scent lift my spirits a bit as I head downstairs. I grab my bag, turn off the lights—leaving just the porch lamps on—and lock the front door. Stepping out, I take a deep breath, ready for the evening ahead.

The drive down the spur is smoother tonight, and I handle the twists and turns with more confidence. Turning on my signal, I pull into the rear lot at Brady's. My heart rate quickens as I park the car; I take a deep breath, excitement mounting at the prospect of seeing Liam again. Pulling my coat tighter around me, I make my way to the entrance.

That familiar calmness envelops me as I spot Liam seated in a booth, gesturing for me to join him. He's dressed in a fitted black shirt that showcases his broad shoulders and muscular arms, and I can't help but admire how good he looks.

Trying not to stare too obviously, I quickly glance toward the bar and notice a thinner crowd tonight. The pool tables are empty, and only a few locals linger on the bar stools.

As I approach, I remove my coat and take my seat. "You made it," he says with a grin.

"You had your doubts?"

"Never!" He replies, handing me a menu, a charming dimple flashing in his cheek. "I recommend the steak, it comes from one of the local farmers. A real treat."

"I'd love a bit of steak," I respond with a playful, exaggerated western accent.

He nods, his grin widening, then stands and heads to the bar to place our order with the cook. Glancing back at me, he calls out, "CC & Dry?"

"Sure, thanks." As Liam prepares our drinks, my attention drifts to a television above the bar. The news anchor reports on the recent discovery of two bodies in the forests near the Spur.

"Horrible news," Liam comments, setting our glasses down with a solemn shake of his head.

"Did you know them?" I ask, shifting my focus from the screen to his face.

"Aye, they were regulars around here. Regular tourists, I mean," he responds, his expression clouding over.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I say, offering a sympathetic squeeze to his hand.

He turns his hand to hold mine. "Don't be, love. Those lads were known for finding trouble. They weren't exactly team players, if you know what I mean."

I nod, biting the inside of my cheek. "Yeah, I tend to keep to myself too. Not much of a team player, but I try to steer clear of trouble," I feel my cheeks heat, embarrassed that I just overshared.

Liam's thumb gently strokes my skin, and he grins, a sparkle in his dark eyes. "Maybe you just haven't found the right team to play with yet."

I laugh softly, pulling my hand back to take a sip of my drink. "Do you know what happened?" I ask, leaning back in my chair.

Liam hums thoughtfully, his eyebrows knitting together. "The full details aren't clear yet. I suspect they might have slipped and fallen, but given the state they were found in, it's tough to pinpoint exactly what happened."

"The animals probably didn't help either," he adds, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Sorry, lass, that might've been a bit too much detail," he apologizes with a sheepish grin.

"It's alright, Liam. I'm not easily unsettled," I reassure him, waving away his concern as our starters arrive at the table.

"Still, it's hardly dinner conversation, especially with such an innocent lady," he says, giving me a playful, slightly cheesy grin.

He’s flirting, and it's a bit corny, but it’s nice to engage in some light conversation before things potentially devolve into the cruder exchanges that often follow online. Erin would chew him up and spit him out with hardly a second thought.

I laugh as I take a bite from a piece of bread, playfully batting my eyelashes at him. "I bet you say that to all the girls?"

When he doesn’t respond immediately, looking instead toward his feet, I toss my napkin at him in jest. He catches it, joining in the laughter, his hands held up in mock surrender.

"Of course not, but your reaction is just priceless."

"I bet," I mutter, popping another piece of bread into my mouth, thoughts drifting back to my mysterious visitor and his abrupt disappearance. I turn to Liam with a question, "Have you noticed anything strange in town the past couple of days?"

"Strange, like UFO sightings?" he chuckles. "Or something more like those animal attacks everyone’s talking about?"

I twirl a curl around my finger and lick my lips, trying to phrase my next question delicately. "I was thinking more along the lines of any accidents on the Spur, or maybe," I pause, searching for the right words, "someone around town who looks like they might have been in an accident?"

Liam tilts his head, his earlier mirth fading into a more serious demeanor. "I can't say I have, love. There's plenty of strange things that happen out at the Spur, so that wouldn't surprise me. But there have been no accidents on the Spur that I've heard about. That’s usually big news around here," he responds thoughtfully. "As for someone looking like they've been in an accident? Can't say I've noticed anyone fitting that description either."

Pausing, he leans back, crossing his arms. "But this town's small, and we get the occasional drifter passing through. Someone could easily slip under the radar, especially if they don't want to be noticed."

I nod, absorbing his words. "Thanks. Just curious, you know?" I attempt a casual shrug, but my mind races with the possibilities—could my mysterious visitor be more than just a random passerby?

Liam watches me for a moment, a slight crease forming between his brows. "You sure you’re alright? You seem a bit off."

Forcing a smile, I wave off his concern. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a lot on my mind lately." My gaze drifts again to the window, scanning the darkening streets for him. Who are you, and why did you leave?

Relieved at the interruption to my thoughts when the server delivers our mains, I refocus on my meal. The steak is perfect, medium-rare, and I can't help but groan appreciatively as I slice through the tender meat. Liam watches as I take my first mouthful, smirking with a knowing look. "Good, isn't it? The rarer the meat, the more tender it is."

Swallowing the delicious bite, Liam continues the conversation, leaning slightly across the table. "So, Ava, do you ever get the feeling that we've met before? And no, love, that's not meant to be a pickup line."

I pause, considering his question as I savor another bite of steak. There's a sense of déjà vu in his gaze that tugs at the edges of my memory. "Maybe," I respond thoughtfully, "My family used to come up to the Spur when I was little. We visited friends often, and I remember coming here a few times.” Liam's gaze softens. “Maybe we met then, but I think the owner was a little older..."

"Aye, that would be my Da. He's retired now from running the bar. He's more focussed running and hunting on the family ranch," Liam replies, pride in his eyes. " I plan to follow in his footsteps someday—run the bar until I can hand it off to my kids and enjoy life out in the wild with my partner, just like my parents."

"And this partner of yours," I probe, cutting into my steak, "is she on board with this plan?"

Liam meets my eyes, raising an eyebrow playfully. "When I find her, I'll make sure she knows the deal. And I promise to always water her plants, so 'Droopy' there won't just survive, but thrive."

Laughing at his comment, Liam leans back just out of my reach. "So, Ava, how are you enjoying life on the Spur?"

"It's been great," I admit, brushing aside the odd encounter with the stranger. "I'd forgotten how much I love being surrounded by nature."

"How so?" he asks, leaning forward with a spark of interest in his eyes.

"I'm not sure," I reply, my gaze drifting up to the wooden beams above before settling back on him. His dark curls seem effortlessly styled, adding to his rugged charm. "There's a calmness here that's soothing. I love the energy of the city, but there's something about this place that just feels..."

"Like home?" he finishes for me.

Hearing him say it feels right, and I nod, his eyes lighting up and his smile broadening in response.

We continue our meal, talking about his life in town and my job back home. My phone pings with messages from Erin, buzzing insistently in my bag beside me. Liam clears his throat to recapture my attention.

"Ava, I was wondering if you’re free tomorrow to check out some of the spectacular views the Spur has to offer."

"Are you asking me on a hiking date, or is this more of a casual stroll?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and playfully pointing my fork at him. "I warn you, I'm not the biggest fan of steep inclines."

He gently takes the fork from my hand, placing it back on the table with an amused grin. "So, you're not keen on hiking, or was that a reflex to threaten me with your nearest weapon?"

I blush and avert my gaze, resting my hand on the table. "Alright, I may not love the idea of trudging up a hill and sweating like a pig, but I can handle a gentle walk."

He laughs heartily. "I'm sure even if you did end up looking like a 'lovely little pig,' as you put it, you'd still look charming."

He places his hand over mine to prevent another playful threat, chuckling as he speaks. "Love, I promise it'll just be a gentle stroll. We'll drive most of the way, and if you get tired, I'll happily play the gentleman and carry you."

"Okay," I agree, feeling unexpectedly adventurous. "Why not?"

"Okay," he echoes, his grin widening. "That was easier than I expected."

"Just be ready to give me a piggyback ride at the first sign of a hill," I warn, my own smile spreading across my face.

We laugh together, finishing our meal and firming up our plans for the next day. Liam will pick me up from the cabin.

"Midday, then. I'll drive," he confirms.

As we get up to leave, I reach for my wallet, but Liam waves my hand away with mock disgust. "Don’t be silly. Your money’s no good here."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Liam, thank you for a really nice evening. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow."

Walking me to the door, he looks down into my eyes, his gaze intense. Gently, he brushes a loose strand of hair from my face, his voice low and resonant. "I look forward to it."

"Me too."

Stepping out into the cool night, I'm still feeling his touch, a warm flutter stirring deep inside as I head home.

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Pulling into the driveway, I grimace as I climb the porch steps and spot another shape on the welcome mat. "What now?" I mutter, a mix of annoyance and curiosity rising in me.

It's definitely larger than the last gift, and clearly not human. As I approach, the distinct metallic scent of blood hits me, though it's not overwhelmingly foul. Bending down, I find myself staring at a raccoon, its neck gruesomely torn open.

"Seriously?" I exclaim to the empty night, frustration lacing my voice. It feels like I've unwittingly become the recipient of a wild cat's hunting trophies.

Stepping carefully around the carcass, I head into the kitchen to arm myself with a pair of tongs and a garbage bag. Efficiently, I scoop up the raccoon and seal it away with the earlier rabbit casualty, trying to ignore the racing of my heart.

After securing the trash lid, a rustling from the bushes makes me jump. I peer into the darkness but see nothing. Yet, the unsettling feeling of being watched creeps over me.

With a shiver, I keep my eyes trained on the shadows as I retreat to the safety of my cabin, locking the door firmly behind me. Without a backward glance, I head straight to bed, eager to put the eerie night behind me.

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My eyes are fluttering, my mind drifting as if in a dream.

Warmth. Delicious heat.

Strong arms encasing me.

Pressure on my neck, pleasure.