His eyes rake down my body. Then he takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
Okay, that might have hurt my ego just a bit.
“I was across the street and thought I’d pop by to give you an update on your car.”
“Great. Is it dead?”
Brooks’s lips tip up in the slightest grin, but then his eyebrows pull together in a frown.
“No, but it’s going to take me a while to figure it all out and clean it up. He made a goddamn mess of it.”
“Yeah.” With a sigh, I cross my arms over my chest and lean my hip against the counter. “Brooks, it doesn’t have to be a priority. I’m fine. I walk almost everywhere anyway, and I found Abbi Wild to help me out with laundry.”
He scowls at that. “Just come to my place to do your laundry.”
“I don’t need to. Abbi’s got it. I mostly eat down here, so I don’t need groceries. As pathetic as it sounds, I really don’t have anywhere to go. So the car isn’t a rush job.”
His jaw muscles tic, and he looks pissed.
“Would you rather I told you I need it by tomorrow?”
“I’d rather you weren’t so stubborn and would just do your goddamn laundry at my place.”
“I don’t need to.” I sound like a jerk. I’m snapping at him, and he’s doing me a favor, but dammit, he’s so grouchy with me, makes it no secret that he doesn’t want me around, and now he wants to have me at his house?
No. Because it would be too easy to take him up on that. I don’t need him to save me and then rub my nose in it later.
“Fine.” He shakes his head, and without another word, he turns and walks away, storming out the door. I let out the breath I wasn’t even aware I was holding.
“Wow,” Tandy says, fanning herself. “All of the Blackwell men are sexy, but Brooks is next level.”
“And he looks at you like he wants to fuck you on this counter,” Hazel adds, and I choke on my own spit.
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Yeah, he does,” Tandy joins in. “Or on the floor, or against the wall …”
“Stop.” I laugh and shoo them back to work. “Trust me, he doesnotwant to do any of that.”
“She’s blind,” Tandy says to Hazel. I simply shake my head and get back to work, figuring out how many eggs I need before calling Beckett to place an order.
I don’t honestly know what Brooks wants from me, but it’s not sex.
Actually, he probably wishes I’d move away. But I’m not going to.
I’ve just come out of the walk-in refrigerator when I see a woman scowling at my staff.
“How many times do I have to tell youno dairy?” a woman yells at Tandy, whose eyes are huge, and I notice her hands are shaking.
“Hey, how can I help?” I ask as I walk over. My restaurant is set up for customers to place their orders at the counter, and when the food is ready, we deliver it to the tables. That way, they can customize anything they want, and if they want to watch us assemble their meal, they can do so. I know that many people with stomach sensitivities prefer to keep an eye on how their food is prepared.
“Are you the owner?” the customer demands as Tandy steps to the side, chewing her lower lip. I rest my hand on her shoulder and give her a nod before turning back to the customer.
“I am the owner, yes. Was something wrong with your meal?”
The woman narrows her eyes at me. She’s tall and willowy thin, with perfect nails and makeup and a designer handbag slung across her body. She’s beautiful.
And I can see that she’s about to be a bitch.
