“I’m on the clock until seven but if it’s busy I might have to stay a bit longer. Melinda had to leave early.” She grabbed a big jug of red sangria and four glasses from Hal.
“I’m sure we can let you go at seven,” Hal said with a wink.
Faith was practically run off her feet for the next few hours, which was a good thing. It meant her focus was on tables and food orders and beverages instead of the too handsome, too sexy, too hot Gus. He and Walker were enjoying the ball game, but it didn’t stop him from sending her looks that lit her panties on fire.
Her blood buzzed with the kind of stuff that had her entire body on high alert. She swiped away a strand of hair that was stuck to the side of her neck and willed herself not to look his way. Instead, she concentrated on the bill in her hand and walked over to the boisterous gang at table six and handed it to the bucket hat dude who’d been a pain in her ass the entire time they’d been here.
“Are you boys okay for the ride back to your cottage? Do you need a cab?”
“Why don’t you drive us?” Bucket hat dude grinned up at her. He was sloppy and sweaty and looked as if he’d imbibed more than the beer she’d been slugging to their table. His pupils were dilated; his smile was glassy. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
She ignored him. “How are we paying?”
“Shut the hell up, Dave. I got this.” One of the men from the end of the table offered up a credit card.
“I’ll grab the machine.” She took one step back, but bucket hat man, aka Dave, had other ideas and wrapped his arm around her waist, nearly pulling her into his lap.
This was getting old, fast.
She glared at him. “Take your hands off me. Now.”
“If you’re smart, you’ll listen to the lady.”
The asshole loosened his grip, and she managed to step aside. Gus stood a few inches away, and the look on his face matched the clenched hands at his side. He was pissed. Walker and Hal joined him, but bucket hat man wasn’t smart enough to recognize the danger he was in. He attempted to get to his feet, swearing and stumbling over limbs and words that, in another situation, might have been comical.
Luckily, the man who offered to pay the bill pushed him back down and apologized to Faith.
“Sorry for my friend. Dave’s always been an idiot.”
“Get him the fuck out of here before we decide to do it for you.” Gus’s tone was conversational, but the look on his face said otherwise.
The guys got to their feet and dragged the troublemaker off the deck while his friend paid the bill. He left Faith a huge tip and, with one last apology, left in a hurry.
“You okay?” Gus asked, angling his head to the side as he looked down at her.
“I’m good.” She moistened her dry lips and pointed to the bar. “I need to cash out so . . .”
“I’ll be waiting at the bar.”
“Waiting?” she asked softly. The air was heavy. It was hot and electric, and her pulse raced, making it hard to breathe. She barely knew this man past a few conversations and a kiss. Faith dropped her eyes and slowly exhaled. But what a kiss. He’d made her feel things she’d only read about.
“To take you home.”
“And that’s my cue.” Walker finished his drink and patted Gus on the back. “I’ll see you on Monday. Tomorrow I’m headed back to DC for a few days. I’ll check in at the . . . um, homestead and get back to you about the . . . thing we talked about.” He winked at Faith and left.
“He’s weird.”
“Can’t disagree,” Gus replied lightly.
“I’ll just . . .” She pointed to the back and made a quick exit, then headed straight for the office. It didn’t take long to cash out, and less than fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in Gus’s truck, her bike stored in the back.
“Is Taco good for a bit?” he asked, maneuvering out of his spot.
“He should be. Candy has him.”
“Good.” They left the parking lot, but instead of making a right toward town, he hung a left.
“Where are we going?”
