Rust Creek Falls Cinderella. Melissa SenateЧитать онлайн книгу.
Seven
Any minute now, Lily Hunt’s first blind date ever—one of the six gorgeous Crawford brothers—was going to walk through the door of the Maverick Manor hotel. Lily waited in a club chair in the lobby’s bar area by a massive vase of wildflowers, her gaze going from the window to the door every five seconds. She crossed and uncrossed her legs. Folded and unfolded her hands. Slouched and sat up straight, then slouched again. Tried for a pleasant smile.
She also tried to get the better of her nerves, but she still worried that her date would take one look at her, pretend something suddenly came up, like a family emergency or a bad cough, and hightail it out of there.
Oh, stop it, she ordered herself. Even though she really did fear he might do exactly that. Lily, part-time cook, part-time student, twenty-three-year-old tomboy who lived in jeans and sneakers and had more hoodies than most teenage boys, was not the kind of woman who made a man think, Ooh, I want to meet her. That was more her good friend Sarah, who was gorgeous and so nice Lily didn’t think it was fair. A month ago, Sarah had been the single mother of an adorable baby girl until she’d found herself falling for one of the Crawfords, ranchers from Texas who’d moved to Rust Creek Falls in July. Now she and Logan were married. And happily raising little Sophia together.
The Crawford brother Lily was meeting tonight? Knox. Tall, dark and dreamy like his brothers. She’d met some of the Crawford clan last month when they’d come to the Maverick Manor for dinner. Sarah had introduced Lily, and one brother was so drop-dead gorgeous she couldn’t speak, which likely also contributed to why he hadn’t glanced twice at her.
Confidence, girl! she pep-talked herself. Sarah had insisted on it earlier when she’d phoned to tell Lily to have a wonderful time and to call her after the date with every detail. And Vivienne Dalton, a wedding planner who’d been the one to fix up Lily with Knox, had also called to make sure she hadn’t chickened out. (Yes, Lily had taken some serious convincing to accept the date in the first place.) Lily had assured Viv she was getting dressed and would be right on time at 7:00 p.m., classic date hour at the Maverick Manor. Viv had said, Honey, I will give you only one piece of advice. Lily had held her breath, waiting. Viv was gorgeous herself and married to Cole Dalton and ran her own successful business—a walking example of making things happen.
Be yourself, Viv had said.
That old yarn? Being herself hadn’t exactly gotten Lily very far. Granted, she had a great job as a cook at the Maverick Manor, the fanciest hotel in town. And people raved about her food, which had done more for her confidence than any appreciative glance from a guy ever could. Lily dreamed about having her own place—a small restaurant or a catering shop. Someday.
Today—tonight—was about her love life.
Two short-term relationships were all she had in that department.
She eyed the door. It was 7:00 p.m. on the nose. Lily had been there for five minutes, unfashionably early. She’d changed for the date in the women’s locker room, stashing her work clothes in her locker and putting on her one good dress and one pair of heels and one pair of dangling earrings. She never wore makeup, but Sarah had suggested she try some tonight. So Lily had swiped on Maybelline mascara and sheer pinkish-red lipstick and felt like she was playing dress-up, but she supposed she was. She’d left her long red hair down instead of pulling it into a low ponytail the way she did every day.
Now 7:05 p.m. Knox Crawford was now late. Bad sign? Her stomach gave a little flop. The date clearly wasn’t high enough on his priorities for him to be on time. Oh, cripes—now she sounded like her dad! Maybe she was getting antsy too early. Calm down. Go with the flow. Sip your white wine.
She took a sip...7:09 p.m.
Seven twelve. Humph.
Lily might not be Ms. Confidence when it came to men, but she would never let anyone treat her disrespectfully, and being almost fifteen minutes late for a date was bordering on rude. Right? Her last date was six months ago (no interest on either side) so she wasn’t really up on date etiquette.
Seven fifteen.
“Lily!” came a female voice. “How lovely you look! Job interview here at the Manor? Front desk?”
Trying not to sigh as she smiled up at Maren, a woman she’d gone to high school with, Lily glanced down at her royal blue boat-neck, cap-sleeve shift dress, a cotton cardigan tied around her shoulders, and sandals with two-inch stacked heels. It worked for church and weddings, so she figured it would work for tonight.
“Actually, I have a date,” Lily said, taking another sip of wine. Waiter, bring the bottle!
Maren eyed her up and down. “Oh. Well, have fun!” she said, tottering on her sexy high heels to the main dining room.
Lily looked around the swanky lobby’s bar area at the women sitting with dates or out for drinks and appetizers with girlfriends. Skinny jeans and strappy high-heeled sandals. Form-fitting dresses. Slinky skirts. Everyone looked great and evening-ready. And here she was in her Sunday best.
Oh, Lily, get a clue already!
Seven eighteen. Her stomach flopped again, her heart heading south. She was being stood up. First time she actually “put herself out there,” like her mom always told her to do, and whammo: humiliated.
She could be plopped on her couch at home with Dobby and Harry, her adorable dachshunds, eating leftover linguini carbonara and garlic bread, and instead, she was about to burst into tears. Whatever, she told herself. She’d just go home, work on a recipe, watch a movie, play with Dobby and Harry.
Just as her pep talk started making her feel better, her cell phone rang.
She didn’t recognize the number but she was sure it was her date—or lack thereof. “Hello?”
“Lily, this is Knox Crawford. I’m so sorry I’m not there.” There was some weird background noise as if he was covering the phone with his hand and talking to someone else beside him or something. Double humph. “Look, um, something came up and—”
Oh, did it? Suuure.
“And I’m really sorry but I can’t make it,” Knox said. “I—”
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