The Pig’s Belly was more or less what Hunter expected—more in the sense that it was crowded, and less in the way of atmosphere, of which there was none. At least not what he’d consider atmosphere.
“This is great.” Megan smiled at the huge bronze statue of a full-bellied pig standing upright that greeted them inside the door. “How have I never heard of it?”
“Can’t imagine.” Seeing her bright smile, Hunter decided atmosphere was overrated if all it took to make her happy was a big bronze pig.
They were shown to a table and handed menus that featured pig, pork and more pig.
“I’m torn between the ribs and the pig’s feet,” he said after reviewing the limited menu.
“Don’t overlook the pork chop.”
“Always a favorite.”
“I’m thinking about the knuckles myself.”
“Really?” he asked, sort of horrified at the thought of actually eating pig knuckles—or watching her do it.
She laughed at the face he made at her. “No, not really.”
“Thank goodness.”
“I’m going with ribs. Seems safe enough.”
“Make that two.”
They ordered the ribs with sides of fries, coleslaw and baked beans along with two draft beers.
“I’m going to tell the grandchildren you got the knuckles,” Hunter said after their beverages arrived.
“I’ll tell them you got the testicles.”
He nearly snorted beer out his nose. “That wasn’t on the menu.”
She shrugged. “You think they’ll check?”
“Good to know you’re not above making things up to suit your agenda.”
“I’ve been doing that since I was a little kid.”
“Making things up?”
Nodding, she said, “Stories of all kinds.”
“Do you write?”
“One of my other favorite things to do. I’ve been writing all my life.”
Fascinated by the revelation, Hunter leaned in closer so he could hear her better. He didn’t want to miss a thing. “What sort of stories?”
“All kinds. Romance, mostly, but some fantasy and science fiction stuff, too.”
“Have you done anything with them?”
She shook her head and took a sip from her glass. “It’s a hobby. Nothing more.” Returning the glass to the table, she glanced at him, as if there were something else she wanted to say.
Under the table, he reached for her hand. “Tell me.”
Hesitating, she fixated on the rough-hewn wooden wall on the far side of the room. “I’d planned to go to Middlebury to study writing. Before.”
He understood that she meant before her parents were killed. Her life was divided into before and after. “Why didn’t you go? Was it because of the money?”
“No, they left us in pretty good shape with the insurance and their savings. It was more because I lost the desire to write for a really long time afterward. It didn’t seem to make much sense to go to school for it if I couldn’t do it.”
“It came back eventually?”
“Yeah. Took years though, and by then it was too late.”
“It’s never too late. You know that, don’t you?”
“It was too late for Middlebury. I was never a big fan of school to begin with, and the thought of going back now is extremely unappealing. Who knows if I would’ve been able to cut it there anyway? One of the last conversations I had with my dad was him telling me I needed better study habits if I was going to survive there and me arguing that I was good enough to get in, so that had to count for something.”
Hunter watched her try to shake off the unpleasant memory.
“Sorry.” She forced a smile. “Didn’t mean to drag down the mood.”
“You didn’t. Not at all. I want to hear about your parents. I’d like to know them as much as I’d like to know you.”
“That’s really nice of you. They were good people, even if I liked to fight with them.”
“That’s your job when you’re a teenager.”
“Still … I wish I’d done less of it. If I’d known I had so little time with them …”
Hunter’s heart ached for her when he realized that not only was she still dealing with her grief after all this time, but a sizable amount of guilt, too. “I knew who they were, but I didn’t know them all that well. I can’t help but think they wouldn’t want you dwelling on the bad times. I’m sure there were lots of good times, right?”
“There were. I played competitive soccer when I was a kid, and we traveled all over the place to games and tournaments. Those trips were always fun. And we went to Disney once, the year Nina graduated from high school. She hated it, but I loved it. We also did a lot of skiing together. My dad was crazy into skiing. That’s why we lived in Vermont, because he liked to ski so much.”
“He came to the right place.”
“Yeah, but it’s ironic when you think about how he died.” She picked up a small plastic frame from the table, her eyes widening before she laughed. “Check it out! ‘Drink too much at the Pig’s Belly? Not to worry. Ask for the key to our Fantasy Suite upstairs and spend the night as our guest. Arrive alive—don’t drink and drive.’ What do you suppose the Fantasy Suite at the Pig’s Belly is like?”
“I’m tempted to drink too much so we can find out,” Hunter said.
Megan signaled for their waitress. “Could we have two more beers, please?”
The waitress glanced at their unfinished drinks. “Sure.”
Stunned, Hunter could only stare at Megan in wonder. “What’re you up to?” he asked, more amused and bewitched by her with every passing minute. She’d gone from talking about the saddest time in her life to laughing with abandon in the course of a few seconds.
“Trying to teach you to be spontaneous.”
“I like learning from you, but please tell me you’re not a fan of that Bachelor show with the ridiculous fantasy suites.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“Not you, too! My sisters are addicted to it. It’s the stupidest thing ever.”
“I can think of stupider things. In fact, now that the diner is closing, maybe I should try out to be a contestant.”
“You’re not doing that.”
“Who says?”
Once again he had the distinct feeling that she was making fun of him and enjoying it. “I say.”
“That’s kind of bossy for someone who’s not allowed to be serious about me.”
“I’m the oldest of ten kids. Bossy is my business.”
“Are you always like that?”
“Sometimes more than others.”
“Like when?”
“You really want to know?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t really want to know.”
He leaned in close to her, pressing his lips against her ear. “I’m really bossy in bed.”
A tremble went through her that he felt because he was sitting so close to her. “Is that right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Bossy how?”
Hunter’s cock pressed insistently against his fly as he brought her in even closer to him. “I know what I want, and I know how to get it, but only after you get what you want.” He kissed her cheek and then her temple. “Does it turn you on to hear that?”
“Um, yeah …”
Laughing, he squeezed her shoulder, thrilled to be with her, to be talking to her about things he’d never said out loud to anyone before. He didn’t talk about what he liked to do in bed. Usually, he just did it. Judging by the rock-hard erection currently making him extremely uncomfortable, there was something to be said for talking about it. In an effort to get through dinner without embarrassing himself, he said, “Tell me other things about you I don’t know.”
“Let’s see … My favorite color is yellow, my favorite movie is The Princess Bride, my favorite book—ever—is Gone With the Wind, a wretched, awful, over-the-top disaster of a story, but I love it anyway. My favorite band is the Beatles—”
“Wait, does my dad know that?”
“Of course he does. We talk about it all the time.”
“I should’ve known. Favorite song of theirs?”
“Duh, ‘Yellow Submarine.’”
Hunter laughed at the witty comment and the face she made to go along with it. “Naturally.”
“What’s your favorite Beatles song?”
“Would I lose points if I told you I’d be happy if I never heard another Beatles song again for the rest of my life?”
“Yes, you would,” she said in all seriousness.
“Fine, if you’re going to be that way and I have to pick one … I’d have to say ‘And I Love Her.’”
She stared at him for a long, breathless, charged moment and then licked her lips, igniting him all over again. “That’s a good one.”
Their food arrived, forcing him to focus on something other than the desire that throbbed through his body like an extra heartbeat. He’d wanted other women before, but nothing could compare to the kind of yearning that came from being so close to Megan. Being able to touch her and hold her and kiss her and talk with her and laugh with her was making him crazy for more.
“This is so good,” Megan said, her mouth full of tender meat.
Hunter glanced over at her, smiling at the streak of barbecue sauce on her face as he removed it with a napkin.
She sent him a sheepish grin. “Ribs might not have been the best first-date choice.”
“Go ahead and get messy. I’ll be happy to clean you up.”
“You surprise me.”
He froze midbite. “How so?”
“You come across all buttoned-down and serious, but you’re not only that. You’re also fun and funny and …”
“And what?” he asked, desperate for her to finish the thought.
“Kinda dirty—in a good way.”
Hunter put the rib he’d been about to eat back on his plate and wiped his hands and face before leaning in to kiss her. “I can be really dirty with the right inspiration.”
Her eyes heated with interest and curiosity and desire.
“Is this moving too fast for you?” he asked.
“As long as you really heard me about the not-getting-serious thing, it’s not moving too fast for me. How about you?”
“Definitely not. I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to be able to spend this kind of time with you, without knowing for sure that I’d ever get to.”
“Why did you wait so long if you felt that way?”
“I tried once, if you’ll recall …”
She winced. “Sorry about that. I thought you were just being nice. I didn’t think you really wanted to go out with me.”
“I really did, and I still do. Even more so than I did before, if that’s possible.”
“I want you to know,” she said haltingly, “being with you, last night and tonight, has been so special, and you’ve helped to make what would’ve been a very difficult week for me much more bearable than it would’ve been otherwise.”
“I’m glad I could do that for you. Why do I hear a ‘but’ coming?”
“If things don’t work out with the diner, I’m probably going to have to move to find another job. There aren’t that many other options in Butler.”
“You could look in St. J or other towns close by without moving, couldn’t you?” The thought of her leaving town right when he was finally getting the chance to know her made him edgy and anxious.
“I could.” She wiped her face and took a drink of her beer. “But I won’t.”
“Why not?”
After a long pause, she said, “I’m afraid to drive in the snow, so that sort of limits my options when it comes to working in Vermont. I need to be able to walk to work in the winter.”
He pushed his plate away, no longer interested in eating, and put his arm around her. “If you find a job in another town, I’ll drive you there and pick you up all winter.”
“You can’t commit to that.”
“Yes, I can. I’m self-employed. I can do whatever I want to.”
“Still, you have a business to run and obligations.”
“If it means keeping you close to me, Megan, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“You’re very sweet, but that’s sounding an awful lot like a guy looking to get serious with a woman.”
“I’ve got to be honest with you.”
“Okay.”
“I really did hear what you said earlier, but I do want to be serious about you. I know you’ve got stone walls up around your heart, and I understand why. You should know I plan to scale those walls.”
Her lips parted as she began to say something that never materialized.
“Is that okay?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Always. But you’re going to have to tell me right now if you want to call this off. Otherwise, I’ll be climbing the walls, effective immediately.”
She laughed nervously, but she looked at him in a way that made him feel warm all over. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
“No point to mincing words. I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I don’t see any reason to pretend otherwise.”
“You’re sort of freaking me out right now.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. We can go if you want to.” He started to signal for the check, but she stopped him with her hand over his.
“I don’t want to go.”
Hunter felt like his entire life and any chance he had at being truly happy had come down to this moment. “So what you’re saying …”
“Is I have no idea what I’m doing here with you, but I’m having fun for the first time in a really long time. And I don’t want to go home.”
He released a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Will you do me a favor? Will you not make any plans to move without talking to me first? I know I have no right to ask that of you on our first official date, and it’s selfish of me to want to keep you close. But if you talk to me, maybe we can find a way to work it out short of you moving.”
“I’ll talk to you about it.”
“Hopefully my grandfather’s offer on the diner will go through, and you can still work there. If you want to, that is. I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“I don’t. But Nina’s plans have me thinking about what else I might like to do.”
“Will you talk to me about that, too?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip as she pondered his question. “Yes, I’ll talk to you about it.” She glanced over at him. “It’s kind of flattering that you care enough to want to help me figure this out.”
“I do, Megan. I care. I want to be involved. I want us to figure it out together.”
As they finished eating, Hunter noticed people beginning to migrate toward a back room. “Wonder what’s going on back there.”
Megan turned to look. “I hope they aren’t sacrificing pigs or something.”
“Want to check it out?”
“If you do.”
Hunter signaled for their check and then opened the wet wipes that had come with the ribs, handing one to Megan and using the other to make sure his face was free of sauce. Retrieving his wallet, he withdrew a credit card, put it on the check and handed it back to the waitress.
“Thanks for dinner,” Megan said. “It was great.”
“It was much better than expected.”
His words were nearly drowned out by the music that was now coming from the back room. Raising a brow in her direction, he laughed at the expression on her face.
“Pigs gone wild.”
“Sounds like it.”
They had to practically shout to be heard over the music.
Hunter signed the credit card slip and put the card and receipt in his wallet. Hannah teased him about keeping every piece of paper he’d ever come into contact with, but if he should ever be audited—personally or professionally—he was ready.
With his hand low on Megan’s back, he escorted her to the adjoining room, which was crowded with people dancing up a storm to the rockabilly band that included two fiddlers currently locked in a frenetic duel as the crowd cheered them on.
“This is awesome,” Megan said, her lips close to his ear so he could hear her.
He slid his arm around her waist and held her while they watched the musicians. The music reminded him of Mumford and Sons, a band he’d seen in Boston a few months ago.
When he woke up this morning, he hadn’t expected to end up in a place called the Pig’s Belly, but with Megan in his arms, her soft, fragrant hair brushing against his chin, there was nowhere else on earth he’d rather be.