I scanned the lackluster menu and pinched my lips into a tight scowl. The restaurant Roxie selected for us boasted fifteen different steaks. Fifteen. This crap bar at the end of downtown had six burgers on the menu.
And worse, but not unexpected because it was the type of thing theme bars did, each burger was named after a musician.
A waitress in a skinny top with her midriff revealed and a black skirt that wouldn’t pass any high school dress code literally skipped her way to our table. She had her hair tied back into two pigtails looking as if she was trying to star in a 1990s Britney Spears music video.
Loretta smiled at her as if they were on their way to becoming two best friends. “I’ll have the Elvis Presley,” she said, tapping her short fingernail against the laminated menu.
I snorted as I read through the description. A burger with two pieces of meat, bacon topping, three pieces of cheese, and every condiment known to man. Obviously, they highlighted with the later—larger-version of Elvis Presley.
“Give me a Beach Boy, please.” It hurt to say those words while ordering. Food should never have such ridiculous names. “But put the pickles on the side.”
The waitress scribbled our quick orders and was almost out of reach before Loretta called her back and ordered a pitcher of the cheapest beer. Apparently, she hadn’t figured out that Pierce Kensington planned to pick up the tab.
“Wow, Reggie,” she said once the waitress was out of sight. “You’re really living it up out here in Colorado.” Her sarcasm was just as heavy as mine earlier.
No, in reality it was worse.
She had a way about her where she said something and made it sound as if she thought you were absolutely the stupidest human on the planet. I considered it comical, coming from a woman with half blue hair and a rose tattoo circling her arm. I’d chosen to forget the tongue ring.
“If I have to eat here, I’m not risking that they might’ve left the mayo out all day. Who knows what health code violations they’re dealing with in this place?”
She scoffed, which came out sounding like an adorable snort. Except nothing about her was adorable. “Yeah, you would want to dribble salmonella on the suit.”
“I don’t understand what you have against suits, but as I’ve said they’re a staple in men’s fashion.”
I swear to God somehow her hip jutted out even further as she sat higher on the stool.Don’t look.I did my best to ignore it. Otherwise, I would’ve asked how she was so limber.
“A part of stuck-up fashion, maybe.”
“Are you calling me stuck up?” Just because I had enough money to eat a good steak and drink a decent beer didn’t mean I was a jackass.
“You’re the one wearing the suit,” she retorted.
I leaned across the table so no one else would hear when I volleyed back my insults. I didn’t want to get a reputation as a man who insulted a woman, even if that’s what I was going to do. “Well—”
“Shhhh,” she squealed, hitting me full force on the shoulder and almost knocking me off of my stool from the unexpected blow. “My brother is getting on the stage.”
We both cast our attention to the side as her brother ran his fingers through his hair and then took the last step onto the small stage. A man who was manning the karaoke booth handed him a microphone, and Loretta’s brother turned to face the audience, his face wearing an enormous smile. It was easy to see why he was a crowd favorite from the moment his mouth opened and he began singing a rendition of “What Lovers Do” by Maroon Five. Sebastian James had a stage presence to him that I hated to admit was spectacular.
If Pierce was backing him at this concert, I had to believe the man was set for big things. Pierce didn’t make an investment unless he knew it would pay off somehow. The Kensingtons had a way with money, even if they sometimes made moves that completely baffled me. Like paying five million dollars for an outdated bed-and-breakfast in a small tourist town to win over a lifelong enemy.
“Isn’t he amazing!” Loretta said, staring at her brother.
Brilliant really. He maintained eye contact with the audience and worked his way through the song as if he was enchanting us. “He’s okay,” I lied. From his stage presence alone, he’d be huge.
Loretta dropped her hand to the table and steepled her fingers on the top. “I suppose you think you can do better.”
“No, but I don’t get my jollies from watching men try and serenade women in a crowd.”
Loretta rolled her eyes and set back on her stool as our waitress delivered the burgers. Mine definitely wasn’t on the grill long enough to be considered well done.
“Here’s your chance to be seduced and impressed,” she said, pointing back to the stage where her brother exited and a woman in a short sundress with spaghetti straps on the shoulders accepted the microphone.
“Someone I’m supposed to know?” I never had a need for pop-culture knowledge until that very moment.
“No idea, but she’s hot.”
I stared another beat, trying to decide what Loretta found hot about the unnamed woman. She had a certain appeal to her, but the person sitting on the other side of the table had even more. Her earrings continued to catch the light and flicker. I couldn’t stop staring at her mouth when she opened it. What began as an attempt to see a glint of her tongue ring turned into a growing obsession with the way her mouth moved.
