I set the menu down and Nick’s eyes went exactly where I thought they would go—right to my chest. But only for a millisecond. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and then he glued his blue-eyed gaze to my face.
“Would you like some coffee?” I asked.
“Does a one-legged duck swim tight circles?” He chuckled. “The more caffeine the better.”
“It’s strong, but not quite as strong as Muriel’s.” I winked.
Dimples dented his cheeks, which flushed a shade deeper.
“Muriel’s coffee was so strong it put me right to sleep. I want to be jittering when I walk out of here.” He opened the menu. “I know that you’re closing soon. I’m just looking for a quick breakfast with lots of protein. Can you bring me an order of bacon and eggs, with extra bacon?”
I rested my hand on the finial of one of the antique chairs. “If it’s protein you’re looking for, may I interest you in the Quorkie Swamp Monster?”
His brow arched over one of his eyes. “A what now?”
“Our chef creates a new dish every day. I name them. It’s quail eggs on a Yorkshire pudding with a bearnaise broccoli sauce over beef carpaccio. I can get him to add bacon on the side.”
Nick tilted his head. “Are quail eggs high in protein?”
“Beats me.” I shrugged. “But bacon sure is.”
“It sounds kind of disgusting.”
“It looks pretty gross too.” I chuckled. “But it’s delicious.”
He closed the menu. “You’ve tried this Quorkie Swamp Monster?”
“I had a bite before the breakfast rush.” As if on cue, my stomach let out a grumble that resembled a whale call. It happened in the space between the ragtime tunes that GJ insisted on playing at breakfast. She said it made people eat faster. I wasn’t sure that was the goal for a dining room, but I picked my battles with Grandma.
Nick handed me the menu. “I’ll take two of the monsters, but only if you’ll join me and finish your breakfast.”
“I shouldn’t. I have to…” I racked my brain for a good excuse. “Polish cutlery.”
The door to the kitchen swung open. “I’ve got the cutlery. Have a seat and I’ll bring out the Quorkies.” Eugene grinned.
“It looks like you’re off polishing duty.” Nick pushed the opposite chair out with the toe of his hiking boot. It was a slightly bold gesture, and 100 percent hot.
I inhaled. That nosy Eugene must have had his ear pressed to the kitchen door the whole time. “I’ll get the coffee.”
As I turned, the lacy hem of my skirt hooked on the knob of the chair. It took two steps and a rush of cold air for me to realize that I was flashing the entire dining room. Luckily enough there was only one person inside; unluckily enough for me, it was the sexy new hockey star.
“Your…um.” Nick’s voice cracked. “Skirt.”
I tugged at the green fabric, but the pointy bit on the decorative chair had speared the lace. Turning only made it worse, and the tearing sound forced me to freeze. What if the damn thing ripped right off me?
“I’ll get that.” Nick stood.
Mortified, I stayed completely still while Nick extracted the lace from the chair and remained that way until the skirt dropped back to its proper position. It had been a while since I’d done laundry, and that morning I’d had to dip into the sexy stock that sat untouched at the back of the drawer. All the comfy cotton undies were buried in a pile of laundry. We washed all of the linens for the inn in-house, and since I was essentially the housekeeper, waitress, laundry person, and groundskeeper—my own laundry bin got pushed to the back of the line.
“Thanks.” I smoothed the fabric at the back and front of the skirt. “I’ll be back with the coffee.”
I gave the chairs a wide berth. Each one of those antiques was now a potential spear, poised and ready to expose my assets to the world.
“GJ and your damnHeidi Swiss Family Robinson Sound of Musicoutfit,” I muttered under my breath. But maybe this would work in my favor. Flashing customers would be a great reason to toss the dirndl into a giveaway pile.
With two cups of coffee steaming on the table, I took a seat across from Nick. Again, it was clear that he was makinga concerted effort to look me in the eyes. “Cream?” I held up one of the silver cream holders.
He smiled. “No thanks, unless you’ve got one of Muriel’s flasks, I take it black.”
