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“So, I guess that means you're probably near Boulevard Books, right?”
I looked across the street at the brick building and smiled fondly, remembering that I'd spent a lot of time as a child.
“I am,” I said. “Right across the street, actually. But, how did –”
“Perfect,” he said. “I'm just finishing up at the restaurant, want to meet me here? “
Driftwood was two doors down from the bookstore. I looked over at the restaurant, which had a new coat of paint and a deck that had been added on since the last time I'd been home. I had no excuse not to step inside and say hello. “Sure,” I said. “But I can only stay for a minute.”
“Great. See you in a few,” he said before hanging up.
Dammit, these McCormick brothers apparently weren't going to let me get away that easily. I smiled as I slipped my phone back into my pocket though. Like I'd told Jenn, I'd be lying through my teeth if I said it wasn't flattering. This sort of ego boost could be dangerous if I didn't keep it – and myself – under control.
Looking both ways before crossing, I strolled across the street to the restaurant. And as I pulled open the heavy wood door, I was greeted by yet another McCormick boy. Bennett was standing at the front of the restaurant, talking to one of his waiters. He was wearing black dress slacks and a dark blue button-up shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and showed off his muscular build. He looked over at me when I walked in, giving me a double take. When he saw it was me, a dashing smile that could have lit up Times Square spread across his face as he excused himself from the guy he'd been chatting with and made his way over to me.
“Can't get enough of our BBQ chicken, can you?” he asked.
“No, it's amazing. But, actually, I'm here to see your brother,” I said. “Quinn called and asked me to stop by.”
“Of course he did,” Bennett said, shaking his head, not able to hide the hint of annoyance in his voice. “He's just finishing a couple of things up in the kitchen, give him a few minutes, will ya?”
“Sure,” I said. “I don't mind waiting.”
“Come, sit at the bar,” he said.
Without waiting for me to respond, he took my arm and led through the restaurant. Half the tables were empty as people began trickling out. Lunch hour for most folks was drawing to a close. He patted a seat for me to take and then slipped behind the bar.
“So, what can I get you to drink?” he asked, flashing me that million-dollar smile.
“Oh, I'm good,” I said. “But, thank you.”
“I insist,” he said.
“Well, if you insist,” I said, giving him a little smile. “I'll just have a Coke then, please.”
He poured me a Coke and handed it to me, refusing my money when I handed him a few dollars.
“It's on me,” he said.
“I still owe you for my dinner last night,” I said, taking a sip.
“That was on me too,” he said. “But, if you were to insist on paying me back, I was hoping you might be free tonight?”
“I can't,” I said, cringing at having to reject yet another invitation for the evening. “I have plans.”
“Let me guess, Quinn?”
“No, actually not,” I laughed, shaking my head. “Cason.”
“That little shit,” Bennett said, shaking his head and stroking his chin. “Well what about tomorrow night then?”
“I don't know if I should.”
“Why? Because you're seeing my brother tonight?” he asked. “Afraid of how that might look to the townies? Or are you afraid that you might like me more than him?”
He gave me a flirty little smile, showing off that dimple once more, and I swear, it made my heart skip a beat. He was a beautiful man, there was no denying that. But, I scolded myself, I needed to get my head on straight. I didn't need these complications.
“I'm only now just getting back into town and I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea about me. I don't want to be the subject of gossip down in the hair salon.”
