I blush at what I think is obvious flirtation. “That’s because I’m standing in flattering light,” I say, then immediately wish I had swallowed the sentence.
His grin turns slow and devastating. “You always this charming in the morning?”
“Only when I’m being charmed.”
Sam’s eyes flash, his generous lips curving into a blinding smile. “Good to know.”
I look toward the customers down the counter—Floyd, Pap, Larken and Laken, and they’re all watching us intently, all with knowing smiles, but the twins have a glint of something predatory.
“Muriel doing okay?” Sam asks, and my head whips back his way.
“Um… yeah. She’s doing fine. Bossy as ever.” We both chuckle because it’s the right answer. “But that’s definitely not a secret.”
The bell on the door rings again and a trio of DOT workers sweep in on a tide of steel-toed boots. They take a seat in my section and I grab menus.
I look to Sam one last time. “It was good to see you. Your biscuit will be up in a second.”
“I’m not in a rush.”
“Unfortunately, I am,” I huff as I turn away.
“You should come to Chesty’s tonight,” he calls out, and I almost stumble as I glance over my shoulder at him. “Come have a drink on me. You’ve earned it.”
“I don’t know,” I say, pretending to consider, feeling the weight of Floyd and the Mancinkus trio’s stares on me. “I might fall asleep in my drink.”
“That’s okay. I make a mean pillow out of bar napkins.”
I bite my lip to stop the smile, fail miserably, and give up. “Maybe I will.”
Johnny yells, “Sam’s order’s up!” and I turn to see a brown paper bag with grease stains on it.
I grab it, hand it to Sam, and our fingers brush, sending goose bumps up my arms. “See you tonight,” he says and then nods at Floyd.
I watch as Sam leaves and for a second, I just… stand there. My pulse is ridiculous. My palms are sweating. My face, if the heat crawling up my neck is any indication, is definitely beet red.
It lasts exactly three Mississippi.
“That was some heavy-duty flirting,” Larkin sings.
“You’re red as a tomato,” Laken adds, chin in hand, delighted.
“Oh, stuff it, you two,” I say, which would be more convincing if my voice didn’t hop a register.
“Honey,” Mary-Margaret says, fanning herself for emphasis, “denial’s a sin too.”
Pap snorts, eager to throw in his two cents. “Lord help him if he gets involved with a Pritchard woman. They’re nothing but trouble.”
“Johnny,” I say desperately, “throw a pancake at someone.”
He grins, ignoring my request. “Darlin’, I only use my powers for good.”
“Then please define good as ‘rescuing me from my friends.’”
“Nope. This is better than morning TV.” He points his spatula at my face. “You got flour on your cheek. And a dreamy look on your face. Which you plan to wipe first?”
I swat at my face, mortified. “Neither. I’m fine.”
“You’re glowing,” Laken says.
