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Eric waved his hand. “None, thanks, I’m driving.”
“Well, have a seat boys.” I turned to the crowd of gawkers. “Electrical problems. Nothing serious. Back to your drinks.”
I left Eric and no first name VIP to sit themselves while I went behind the bar to pour a couple of drinks for our guest.
I called into the kitchen. “Dale, can you whip up a batch of waffle fries.”
It wasn’t anything fancy, but it helped to take the edge off. I didn’t need any drunks in the place.
Three drinks on a tray, I approached the table. A light scent of cologne tickled my nose, and I knew it wasn’t Eric. Since the baby was born, he’d stopped wearing any, so it had to be the VIP. It was intoxicating, like a spicy pepper mixed with cinnamon.
I set down his two drinks and handed Eric a tall, frosted glass. “It’s a Coke.”
“Thanks.” He took a sip.
Mr. Welsh did exactly as he said he would, he downed the first glass in record time.
“Good?” I stared into his eyes as I cocked my brow.
The pub wasn’t brightly lit so I couldn’t tell if his eyes were blue, brown or a dark green. It didn’t much matter though as they had some kind of hidden power and they weakened me slightly at the knees. What was wrong with me?
“Very much.”
“Great.” So far, aside from his stunning good looks and sultry voice, there wasn’t much else to go with his apparent status. Weren’t rich guys supposed to be charming and sweet and polite? “I have a basket of fries coming out shortly for you.”
“Aren’t you going to stay a while?” Eric asked, with a hint of plea in his voice.
“In a bit, maybe? I have a few things to attend to.”
Besides, I wasn’t here for entertaining nor for the entertainment. However, my patrons were still glued to the guest, as if waiting for something magical to happen. Small towns were funny that way. Sure, over the summer we were packed to the brim with tourists, but this guy really stood out. Most of our visitors were dressed for the beach, Mr. Welsh wasdressed for a high-pressure business meeting, and damn if he wasn’t nice to look at. His top button undone and hanging open, it was a great visual.
Dale rang from the back, and I went to retrieve their order. The fries were perfect, just the right amount of crispness to them. They looked good enough to eat, and I wanted to steal one before I took it over, but I held back, placing them between Eric and our guest.
“For the munchies.” I beamed.
Our kitchen didn’t make anything fancy, just your typical bar food, and a basket of waffle fries were usually the go-to.
“Thank you.” Mr. Welsh reached for my hand. “Join us?”
I glanced over to Eric, who shrugged. He was an excellent judge of character and if he didn’t seem put off by this guy, then I guessed it was okay. My own instincts weren’t telling me to run, but then again, they weren’t highly in tune either. I double-checked the pub, everyone was well taken care of and anything that popped up, Caroline, my employee, would be able to handle it.
Mr. Welsh rose as I pulled out my chair, a move catching me off guard. I sat closer to Eric, but turned my body in Mr. Welsh’s direction, crossing my legs at the knee, exposing a bit of leg which didn’t go unnoticed. The very idea of a little innocent fun with the stranger crossed my mind and lit my core on fire.
“So, Mr. Welsh, tell me, what had you travelling across the region?” Best to decide to skip over the mechanical failure part.
Eric leaned in and grabbed a waffle fry.
“Business.”
“Are you from the Charlottes?”
He shook his head. “No.”
Well, this was fun. One-word answers. “Are you from Seattle?”
“No.”
I tipped my head back to Eric. For real? I could maybe listen to the guy talk, but there had to be more conversation than this.
