Page 7 of Awake in Cheshire Bay

He looked down on me, not because he was being rude but because he was just that tall standing next to me. I was of average height, but he made me feel short in comparison.

“What is your first name? If I’m going for dinner with a guy, I at least like to know his name.” A fluttery sensation filled my stomach, one that had nothing to do with hunger.

A light-hearted laugh, complete with a tipping back of his head, greeted me. “I go by Tony to most.”

“And to others?” I assessed the hesitation in his dark blue eyes. “It’s okay, you don’t need to answer.”

“Antonio.”

“Antonio.” I repeated back, the syllables rolling nicely over my lips. “It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

For some reason, he totally suited his name, and I couldn’t picture him being a Johanne or Marcello or anything else. The name fit the accent.

“I like it.” The smile bubbling out of me was genuine, and I tipped my head down to hide it. Seriously, why was I suddenly reduced to a wild-eyed teenager?

He waved for me to start walking. “Where you eat?”

“Mostly at home, but there’s a nice grill up the hill a bit. We passed by it.”

“Why you not go out?”

I tossed my hands out to the side, narrowly missing his right arm. “It’s really just a time constraint. And my friends are busy, so if I’m going to eat alone, I may as well stay home and binge the latest Netflix with it.”

“I see.” He kept pace, but never stepped ahead, and always walked on the outside portion of the sidewalk.

The walk uphill didn’t take too long, and we arrived. A strong smell of bar-be-que made my stomach growl, but hopefully Antonio didn’t hear it. If he did, he gave no indication.

“Hey, Susan,” I said as I approached the hostess station. “Table for two.”

She ran her gaze up and down my dinner date, and I didn’t blame her one bit. The tall guy with thick wavy dark hair, and a strong jawline was exceptionally easy on the eyes. “Patio?”

After scanning the dining room, I spun to face up to Antonio. “Do you want to eat outside? There’s no view, but the stares may be less.”

“Yes, fine.”

Susan led the way, and Antonio’s hand tenderly grazed my lower back as we wound our way through the restaurant. My breath quickened and held in my chest for a heartbeat. But it was more than just Antonio. It was the familiar faces of the locals checking out the mysterious man beside me, and then doing a double take to me. Of course, the contrast between Antonio and I was like night and day, and had I been in their shoes, I probably would’ve done the same.

Susan sat us near the edge of the patio, where only one other table had guests.

The rocky outcropping from the embankment was our view. It wasn’t much to take it, but my dinner companion had the deck stacked in that regard.

After handing us our menus, Susan disappeared, likely to add fuel to the gossip. Sometimes this town was too much to take.

A waiter, one I wasn’t familiar with, appeared at our table. “Can I get you anything from the bar?” He asked Antonio first.

“A bottle of finest red.”

The waiter nodded and disappeared.

“I hope you’re not expecting much in the wine department. If you want good wines, I can direct you to a vineyard a couple of hours drive away.”

“I sure whatever he brings,” he paused and bobbed his head, “will be suitable.”

I stifled my laugh, but let it slide. I wasn’t a wine connoisseur per se and only ordered a few bottles from the local vineyards for the bar. My customers all accepted that, as the majority weren’t there for fine wines anyway, they came for the hard stuff; whiskeys, rums, and wild selection of vodkas. You name it, I probably had it.

“Antonio, is it okay if I call you that?” I rested my forearms on the edge of the table.

He ran his fingers over his scruff, as if mocking me with a thoughtful gaze. “That is fine.”