She comes out a minute later carrying plates of food and drops them off to the loud guy at the counter. I can’t hear what he says to her, but she purses her lips and grabs a stack of menus. She hands them to us on her way to another table.
“I’ll be right back, guys. I’m here by myself.”
Before any of us can respond, she’s gone again.
“She’s really here alone?” Sam asks, looking around. “That’s bullshit.”
Every table in the dining room and every chair at the counter is filled now, and I haven’t seen anyone else.
“Looks like it.”
“Well, it’s not like we have anywhere to be.” Angus picks up the menu and starts to read it.
There’s a pretty good selection considering where we are and I’m trying to decide between the bacon cheeseburger and the meatloaf when Summer approaches our table. “Sorry about that,” she says. “Are you ready to order?”
“What’s better?” I ask. “The bacon cheeseburger or meat?—”
I’m cut off as someone yells out, “Summer, what are you doin’ over there? I need more coffee!”
“I’ll be right there!” she snaps. She turns back to our table, fixing a pair of golden eyes on me. “And definitely the meatloaf.”
She’s hot and already finishing my sentences.
I like her.
“Then that’s what I want. With mashed potatoes and corn, please.”
She nods, her gaze locking with mine for another beat before turning to the others.
Unfortunately, that’s as much flirting as I can manage because she takes all our orders and then disappears again, just as three more guys come in.
“This is a zoo,” Mick says, grimacing.
“A zoo with no manners,” I mutter, watching as someone throws a balled-up napkin at Summer to get her attention. I don’t know why it bugs me but it does. She’s a waitress at a diner in the middle of nowhere and I don’t know her, but for some reason, I want to.
She looks like...summer.
Honey-blond hair, lightly tanned skin, and those golden eyes.
She’s like a day at the beach with curves and silky hair.
I catch myself staring and quickly look away.
“She’s cute,” Sam murmurs under his breath.
He knows me too well.
“If another guy throws something at her, I’m going to say something,” I grumble in response.
Sam’s gaze sharpens as someone whistles to get Summer’s attention.
“Shake a leg, honey—we’re hungry!”
“I’m doing the best I can, Roscoe,” she replies smoothly. “Gimme a break, will ya? Your food will be out in a minute.”
There’s more back and forth, and I’m somewhat riveted. No matter what they say to her, she takes it in stride, focusing on her job. She moves fluidly, like she can carry plates of hot food in her sleep. She probably can. And she seems to know everyone. Most address her by name, though there are a handful who use terms like “honey” and “sweetheart.”
“You really need to stop staring,” Angus says after we’ve finished eating. “If you want to hook up, go talk to her.”
