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“Well, you failed.” She went straight to the kitchen. Karen, the weekend cook, stood at the grill. “Kar, do I stink?”
She dropped a basket of fries in the deep fryer and frowned. “What?”
“Kyle says I stink.”
“What is this, some playground form of foreplay now?”
Kyle leaned through the kitchen door and yelled, “I did not say you stink. I said you smell different.”
“Smell me.” Annalise lifted her hair and exposed her neck to Karen.
Karen inhaled. “You smell like you always do.”
“Bad?”
“No, not at all.” Karen scowled at the door where Kyle still watched. “You’re nuts.”
Appeased, Annalise grabbed her tray and went to set up tables. But by the diner rush, she was beginning to doubt Karen’s nose.
The clientele at Jimbo’s was predominantly male, and the majority of them seemed to be avoiding her. One even said he’d wait for Kyle when she offered to bring him a refill. Not that she missed their refined conversational skills, but her tips were suffering.
Feeling like the bar outcast, she hid in the back for her break with Karen, the only person who didn’t find her presence offensive. Plucking a tomato from her chicken wrap, she asked, “Can a spider bite make you odorous?”
“Did a spider bite you?”
“Maybe. I have a mark on my thigh—or I did.” When she last checked it was gone.
“Girl, you don’t want to mess with a spider bite. There are recluses in these parts. They’ll mess you up.”
“I put peroxide on the mark and made a doctor appointment, but they can’t see me until next month.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s fine. Just keep an eye on it.”
“I will. But do you think a bug bite can make a person smell funny? Maybe its venom is coming out through my pores.”
She tsked. “Kyle’s crazy. Don’t listen to him. You smell perfectly fine, Anna.” She flipped the minute steaks on the grill. “You two sleeping together yet?”
“No.” She refused to count the night they killed a bottle of tequila, a night neither of them could remember. It didn’t matter anyway. She wasn’t sleeping with anyone until her invisible stink cleared up.
Karen pointed to her with the spatula. “Maybe, if you had a little more vitamin D in your life you wouldn’t be so stressed out.”
“Who can stand to be outside in this heat?”
“That’s not the vitamin D I’m talking about. For God’s sake, girl, give a boy a bone.”
She laughed. “What is he, a dog?”
“Might as well be, the way he’s always begging at your feet waitin’ for a little scrap of attention. He’s got it bad for you, Anna. Take pity on him and take a little something for yourself.”
“Maybe you’re right. I’ve been having some weird dreams lately. When they’re not creepy they’re hot.”
“Mmm-hmm. That’s because you need to get laid.”
She drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. She glanced toward the door and saw Kyle talking to Gus at the bar. “You really think I should do it?”
“Absolutely. And if it doesn’t work out, it’ll give us all something to gossip about.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She couldn’t afford any awkwardness at work until she graduated and found a better job. “I’ll think about it.” She slid off the counter and tightened her apron.
“Why don’t you think about it while you let the bartender go down on you?”
Annalise stilled and scoffed. Sliding her tray off the counter she said, “You’re gross.”
“But I’m not stressed, am I?”
She laughed. No, Karen definitely wasn’t stressed. “I gotta go check my tables.”
“Later, sugar.”
“Late—” Annalise stilled in the doorway of the kitchen, her gaze stretching across the bar and falling on icy blue eyes.
Adam. He’s back.
Her cheeks pulled as she smiled, unsure why it pleased her so much to see him again. He smiled back at her, teeth perfectly white and straight. God he was beautiful. Too beautiful for a man.
Her heart stuttered and jolted into a gallop as she rounded the bar stools and made a beeline to his table by the door.
“You’re back.”
He nodded, his eyes locked with hers, his stare holding her so tight she had the brief sensation that his arms pulled her in. “Hello, Annalise.”
Her belly flipped as he purred her name. Ahn-nah-leeze.
Her entire being sank into the moment, fully present with the sort of self-awareness monks spent decades trying to find. She was here, with him, and everything became indescribably zen. It was the best she’d felt in weeks. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“I’m glad as well. How has your day been so far?”
She couldn’t remember, but as the sun went down and the evening patrons arrived, there seemed a marked improvement. “Great. How was your day?”
“Long. I thought of you.”
“You did?”
He nodded again. “Would you like to sit?” He waved a hand to the empty booth seat across from him and she found herself sliding over the leather bench.
