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“That I have.”
“Good, then you can give me a nice tip.” I slapped the two quarters on the table. “Good luck finding a song you like. Most of the songs are from the 50’s and 60’s. A handful of 70’s.”
“I’ll make do.”
Chubby Checker’s anthem wasn’t exactly the conduit for a sashay back to the kitchen, so I just double-timed it to get back before the bacon was well done.
As I was plating his food, I had to redo his toast—again. Talk about distractible Debbie.
“Re-fucking-lax, he’s just a guy.” I blew a flyaway bit of hair out of my eyes and grabbed the two plates. Perfect toast this time, thank you very much.
He was still standing in front of the juke when I returned. He had broad shoulders. The sweater was obviously well made—not a Target special. It fit his body far too well. He seemed athletic. The kind of guy who played football or…no, rugby. He seemed like he would play something a little more about contact.
Something that would leave bruises.
Lord, where did that come from? And why was that so fascinating?
He turned and caught me staring. His eyebrow rose and a slow smirk spread across his interesting mouth. Straight white teeth flashed and transformed his serious face into a mouthwatering collection of smile lines and rugged charm.
Cripes, my panties were in such trouble. And not just because they were currently drowning.
He gave me that unsettling once over again as I set the plates down.
He pressed a combination of buttons and “Bang a Gong” came through the speakers. He came back toward me with a little swagger in his walk before sliding back into the booth. “Thanks.”
I pressed my lips together against a laugh. “Anything else?”
“Yeah. I hate eating alone.”
I rolled my tongue along the back of my teeth. “I’m working.”
He glanced around the room. “Think your boss won’t mind.”
“You don’t know my boss.”
“I’ll pay for your meal.”
“You keep wanting to pay for things for me. My time, my food…” I tipped my head. “Then you play this song.”
“Are you telling me you’re dirty and sweet like the girl in this song?”
“Maybe.” My heart was going to bang its way out of my damn chest.
“Do you want to be my girl…for tonight?”
Yes! Holy shit, yes!
“It remains to be seen.” I twisted on my heel and burst out laughing when the song changed to “Happy Together” by the Turtles.
A sense of humor and he was hot? Score.
Once I was in the kitchen, I used what was left of the bacon I’d cooked for him and dropped a basket of fries. The three minutes it would take would calm my freaking heart.
Did he really want to take me home?
Or to his hotel. That was probably more likely. He definitely wasn’t from here.
I made myself some cheese fries and filled a cup with ranch, blew out a slow breath, and pushed through the doors.
