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“Don’t be scared,” I whisper in her ear.
“I just wish they would go away.”
“That doesn’t happen unless someone makes it happen. It’s the law of the jungle. This town seems to be filled with a bunch of meek bitches.”
The manager arrives at that exact moment to ask how he can help make our dining experience a pleasant one.
“They’ve been making pig and monkey noises since we walked in this place,” I explain, noticing how the assholes got quiet when the manager appeared. “Now, I know I’m a pretty fella, but that shit is distracting me from spending money here.”
The manager glances at the group of men—six with a few nearby supporters—and pretends like he’s completely unaware of any problems.
“I’ll speak with them.”
As soon as he’s out of earshot, I tell Goose, “Has my crush on Austen turned me soft? Why is no one threatened by my size and fine assortment of tattoos?”
“What are you whining about? I’m fucking invisible over here. No one wants to fuck or fight me.”
“Oh, I think those men would definitely fuck you,” Coco says, and Austen nods. “I heard one of them call dibs on the ‘redheaded Pat Benatar.’ You aren’t invisible.”
“I do not look like Pat Benatar,” Goose grumbles despite people saying that shit for years.
Austen and Coco glance at each other and back at her. The blonde nods. “Yes, you do. I just watched her ‘We Belong’ video last night, and you definitely look like her.”
Goose nearly hisses, “Why were you looking at the video?”
“I needed spank bank material,” Coco grumbles.
Goose startles me by laughing. “Well, she is a hot bitch, so you do you.”
“See how nice this is?” I ask despite my gaze locked on the manager talking with the men. The group suddenly focuses on me. “Oh, and I think the manager might be their dad or something.”
“Do you figure he’ll have the cook spit in our food?” Goose asks while Austen looks horrified and nearly drops her drink.
“Maybe. Let me do something,” I say, pulling out my phone and snapping pictures of the bar top where the men stand with the manager. “I want to send these to Ruin just in case something happens. He’ll need to know who to bury.”
“Smart,” Goose says and looks at the menu. “I want those blooming things.”
“You mean, a blooming onion?” Coco asks, winning a frown from Goose. “I’d rather get the nachos and queso.”
“No.”
“Or we could get both,” Austen suggests.
“That’s right,” I say and wag my finger at the sexy redhead. “You’re rich. We could probably get three appetizers without breaking your bank.”
In reaction to my teasing, Austen instantly stops worrying about the assholes or someone spitting in our food. She now smiles as if I’m the best damn thing she’s ever seen.
I hold her gaze and memorize her joyful expression. No matter what trouble her Halvorson family might have in mind when we get to McMurdo Valley, I plan to keep Austen safe until she loves me too much to ever leave.
AUSTEN
I want nothing more than to focus on Walla Walla. These meals are practice dates for when we’re alone in McMurdo Valley. I’d be more nervous if I didn’t play interference with Coco and Goose. Their bickering mostly distracts from how vulnerable I feel when I wear a revealing top to dinner.
However, the men at the bar make me wish I had covered up more. They might not even be leering at me. Coco looks sexy with her short shorts and high-heel sandals. Goose is in a cut-off rocker-themed T-shirt and flattering tight jeans. The two women are plenty alluring enough to draw attention to our table. Yet, in my mind, I’m the one making this awkwardness happen.
After Walla Walla sends the manager over to the men, we order appetizers. The waitress promises no one will spit in our food.
“We’ll be checking,” Goose warns.
