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“That’s what I like to hear.” She pulled Tom and Levi their beers (Empire Cream Ale for Tom, Blue Point Toasted Lager for Levi), and slid them down the bar, where they stopped two inches from Levi’s elbow. A life skill to be sure. “You treating my friend well, Chief?” she asked.
“Very well,” he answered.
“Would you say multiply well? If you know what I’m saying?”
“I think we all know what you’re saying, Colleen.” He gave her his famed crinkling forehead look. “And yes.”
“And you, Tom?” she asked. “Is Honor multiply happy? Hmm?”
“What do you think, darling?” he answered, his grin widening.
“I like your confidence. Just don’t get smug.”
“Colleen,” Connor yelled from the kitchen. “Stop harassing the customers.”
“Is anyone feeling harassed?” she asked the bar at large.
A chorus of denials went up from her peeps.
Slipping under the bar, she went into the kitchen, where Brother Dear was hard at work. “What bug is up your ass this time?” she asked.
“Did you know Mom was at the hospital the other night?” he said, flipping the vegetable tempura around in the basket.
“What? Oh, that. Singles Nude Modeling. Yeah, I was there.”
“Jesus, Coll. Nude modeling? Did Mom—”
“Listen. She needs a hobby.”
“She sent some guy to the E.R. with a heart attack.”
“Happens to the best of us.”
He gave her a long-suffering look, which she happily returned until Hannah came into the kitchen. “Cheeseburger, medium rare, blue cheese, bacon, mayo—”
“Speaking of heart attacks,” Colleen murmured.
“Sweet potato fries, Caesar salad with chicken, nachos grande, salmon cakes and the pasta special,” Hannah continued, then bustled back out. Connor’s memory was the stuff of legend.
“Out of my kitchen,” he said.
“You’ll miss me,” she answered, pushing through the doors. She slid back behind the bar, got Lorena Iskin another Manhattan without being asked, smiled at Cathy and Louise, who always only had one drink, refilled Jessica Dunn’s Chardonnay (on the house, Jess was nice) and turned to check on Tom and Levi.
Lucas was sitting two stools down from them.
Damn. She didn’t need this. He’d gotten her all...stirred up at the hospital the other day, being all holier-than-thou. So irritating, so judgmental. So...hot...gorgeous...delicious... Crikey. White oxford shirts were so underrated. His sleeves were rolled up a few times, and his olive skin made her want to take a bite. Those hands...oh, she remembered those hands, yessirree. Those were gifted hands, hard and strong and yet so gentle...and so smart, always knowing exactly where to—
He was looking at her. A corner of his mouth lifted, as if knowing just how tight her special places were becoming.
Time to bring him down a little. She flashed Tom a smile and leaned down in front of him, giving him a view of her magnificent boobage. “How’s that beer, Tommy?”
“Cover the goods, please,” he said, shielding his eyes. “Engaged to another, hate to break your heart.”
Shit, yes, what was she thinking? She jolted upright. “Sorry. So, how are things, you...um, you handsome Irishman?”
Tom flinched. “British, darling. Please.”
“Yeah, I knew that,” she muttered, glancing at Lucas. “And, Levi, you big strong, gun-toting lawman, you.” Ack.
