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I opened the door. “Hurry—”
“Wait!”
A squeak came from behind me as one of the waitstaff spotted the ducks. And that was just enough of a distraction for the door to be open a second too long.
Ducks came flooding into the restaurant. At least two dozen of them spread out looking for any spare crumb.
Mason sagged against the open doors as the rest flowed around him like he was a river rock. Gillian came running up to help and then it was just bedlam. Waitresses climbing on chairs as the ducks lost their fool minds. They didn’t understand where they were
or how to get back out. A few enterprising ones jumped onto the table and found lunch leftovers from the staff who were eating before customers started coming in.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Mason drove his fingers through his hair, holding on to the top of it as if it might actually fly off.
I made sure my girls were okay and turned to my brother. “So, maybe we could use that bullhorn now?”
“Yes.” Mason ran for his office.
“Take Sami out the front,” I commanded.
Bee shook her head. “Nope. Baby is fine and sleeping.” She pulled her coat off. “I’ll help.”
“All right.” That was my girl. She wasn’t like the squealing women climbing on every available surface.
I pointed at two startled guys coming out of the kitchen. “Close that door and lock it. Then get out here and help us.”
I started barking orders as I swooped one up under my arm like a football. The honking and bold braying quacks would haunt my dreams for days. I handed one off to Gillian. “Outside.”
She nodded and held it away from her.
We ended up making a sort of chain of handoffs to the door until the ducks figured us out and started spreading out.
Mason came out of the back with the bullhorn. “Attention ducks. Get the hell out of my place.” He swooped through and when they ignored him, he started quacking like they did.
Bee was laughing so hard, she had to dab at her eyes as she caught another wily one heading for the stairs to the front of the restaurant. She had two juveniles in her arms, and one was trying to make space in her bra. I met her in the middle of the main dining room and rescued one. “That’s not for you, buddy.”
The other was trying to climb up into her jacket. Bee’s dark eyes were shining with laugh-induced tears, and I wanted to drag her into my arms. She suddenly stopped laughing and gave me the same look. Things were so new with us—old and new at the same time.
But every time I saw her, I just wanted to touch and to take. To swallow down all that golden laughter and let it warm me up from the inside out.
Then the duck bit my earlobe. “You little shit.” I held it out and hustled to the back door.
I could hear her laughing from behind me.
Without warning, Bee disappeared into the kitchen.
“Traitor,” I yelled after her as I waded back into the melee. I scooped up two babies and tucked them into my jacket pockets, and then cornered one of the mamas.
Between the bullhorn and the quacks, I was nearly cross-eyed from the utter chaos of it. As if there was a secret aphrodisiac in the air, the ducks suddenly all turned tail and arrowed toward the kitchen.
“Oh, shit.” That was definitely a health code violation in the making.
“Here babies!” Bee’s voice rose over the crazy. She was holding a huge bag of stale bread that my brother usually used for his famous bread pudding.
“Hey!” Mason yelled.
“Sorry, Mase.” Bee sprinkled a few pieces on the floor, and the ducks beelined for her. She led them to the double doors. “Hurry, open the door!”
Mason ran for the French doors and blasted them open. The ducks outside the door started to storm back inside until they saw the buffet of bread being tossed onto the deck. A tide of brown waddling butts flowed out as quickly as they’d come inside.
