“Like what—your protecting a defenseless person from men who outnumbered you and were bigger than you are?”
“I didn’t do anything the rest of you wouldn’t have done.”
When it became obvious that she would never notice, he slowed to a near stop and pointed. “Look.”
A square piece of plywood sat propped against the O’Connor’s mailbox, words painted on it in bright orange spray paint.
THANK YOU, VICTORIA.
She stared. “Is that for me?”
“You know any other Victorias in Scarlet?” He sped up again.
“But why?”
She really didn’t seem to understand why people felt so grateful toward her. But then, he’d never seen her do anything for accolades or attention.
He tried to explain. “You’re not from here, but you defended one of ours. You protected a vulnerable man who can’t protect himself and were almost killed. Is it so strange that people want to thank you?”
They passed two more road signs before reaching the highway and heading into town. Another stood facing outward at Frank’s gas station.
“Gosh.” She looked over at Eric, wide-eyed. “I didn’t reallydoanything.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I guess these folks think you did.”
He passed through the roundabout, heading toward Knockers. Almost every business they passed had a homemade sign propped out front or stuck in the window. Some had smiley faces. Others had hearts. The one at the new dispensary had a marijuana leaf. But most just had words, all saying, “Thank you, Victoria.”
The parking lot at Knockers was pretty full for a Thursday night. He parked, then went around to spot Victoria, still unwilling to let her risk falling. They walked hand in hand toward the entrance.
He couldfeelher tension. “Try not to look like you’re walking to your execution.”
That made her laugh. “I just feel silly.”
He opened the door, stepped into the brewpub to find the Timberline Mudbugs on the stage, the tables full, people sitting around, waiting to be seated. He walked up to Marcia, the hostess, to get them added to the waitlist. “Two.”
Marcia smiled. “Hey, Hawke. We’ve got your table ready. Right this way.”
He followed her toward a table for four near the center of the place. “We’re getting the royal treatment tonight.”
Most of the Team was here, sitting in their spot near the climbing wall. Rose was here, too, with her latest beau—the guy with the bushy beard who ran the marijuana dispensary next door to her shop. What was that guy’s name again?
Eric and Victoria were seated for less than a minute when Rain appeared at their table, carrying glasses of ice water. “Your money’s no good in this place, Victoria. Whatever you want, it’s on us. If it were me, I’d go for the shrimp and prime rib, the whiskey—the expensive stuff.”
Victoria laughed. “Thank you, Rain. Please thank Joe for me.”
“Sure thing.”
Eric reached over, took her hands, looked into her big brown eyes. “Do you have any idea how good it feels to be the man who gets to walk in here with you?”
Her gaze went soft and warm in a way that just about killed him. “If it’s anything like the feeling I get being the woman you’re with, then it must be pretty special.”
God, he was going to miss her.
Don’t think about that.
When Rain returned, Victoria ordered the grilled chicken salad and an Italian soda. He ordered the prime rib and a beer.
He caught sight of Joe and excused himself from the table. “I’ll be right back.”