‘Next orders,’ Amber called and choices were made. Rosie and Wren again ordered from the mocktail side of the menu.
‘You two got an early start?’ Fox asked.
‘Not particularly.’ Wren shrugged.
‘Simply being helpful and trying the menu,’ Rosie chipped in.
The next round came and this time, the team member announced the name of their drink before they set it down. Another nice touch. Amber was doing a great job in training them. The only problem was Australian Angie’s pronunciation of the word Caipirinha sounded more like ‘cup of piranha’ but apart from that, all went well. Conversation was flowing now, two cocktails in. Isabella reached for the water jug as Etienne did the same and her hand brushed his, the tiniest touch, and their eyes met across the table. She drew her hand back as though she’d been burned and felt the touch all the way inside her as Etienne told everyone how and why Isabella and he each had one of Fox’s shirts in their laundry bins at home.
‘Thank God I was on shift,’ Walker said and everyone laughed.
Fox admitted his one-night stand to the group, and blushed when Rosie moved around the table to give him a hug.
‘Oh Fox,’ she said softly, ‘I bet that’s brought up a whole heap of emotions.’ He nodded and moved around so she could take the seat next to him, still holding his hand. Etienne slid, at last, into the seat next to Isabella. She let her elbow press against his on the table, wanting the contact, needing it. He jerked away. She threw a confused glance in his direction but he was intent on the one-night stand conversation.
‘Was she nice, though?’ Wren asked.
Fox thought for a second. ‘She was great,’ he said.
‘Start thinking about your next orders!’ Amber instructed, poking the page.
‘I’ll get some snacks to soak up the alcohol,’ Isabella said, pushing herself to standing and staring at Etienne directly.
‘I’ll help you,’ said Etienne, which drew a quick side-eye from Rosie and a raised eyebrow from Wren, but luckily nothing was said as he followed her to the kitchen.
He let the door swing shut behind him. She pulled open the new shiny fridge and began rummaging, transferring bowls to the worktop and moving jars and sauces.
‘You could always be my snack?’ he said quietly, and she laughed in relief, catching the glint in his eyes.
‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘But I can be dessert.’ Nodding her head towards their friends in the restaurant, she continued, ‘Thought you were avoiding me out there.’
‘Only because I don’t trust myself to keep my hands off you.’
She looked at him under her eyelashes, feeling exactly the same.
‘Patience is a virtue, Etienne,’ she said teasingly and passed him a bowl. ‘Can you sort the olives?’
‘Hmmmm.’ He laughed and gave in, washing his hands before he began decanting different types of olives and arranging breadsticks. She grabbed the other snacks she’d prepared earlier. Strawberries, plump and red, with a smooth chocolate sauce for dipping. Homemade ice cream in individual portions, gleaming white with purple marbling. She turned to find him watching her.
‘Ready?’ she asked.
‘Always,’ he said.
‘Only fair to give you a taste,’ Isabella said. ‘A little something to keep you going.’
His eyes glinted with interest.
She swiped one of the strawberries from the top of the display and dipped it in the smooth sauce. She twirled it in her fingers and then lifted it to his mouth, first letting just the tip enter so he could taste the chocolate. Then, pushing the whole fruit into his mouth for him to bite into. He closed his eyes to swallow his mouthful and made a noise in his throat which was so sexual she missed a breath.
‘Come on,’ she said, suddenly aware of the hum of conversation next door. ‘The rest is for later.’
The third round was ordered and Rosie and Wren again chose from the non-alcoholic page.
‘I can try a mocktail next time if you fancy a drink?’ said Fox. ‘I’ve got to be up early anyway.’
Rosie glanced sideways at Wren, who grinned and bit her lip.
‘What’s going on?’ Isabella asked.
