“Just leave him here.” Ian scratches behind his ears while Barrel stretches out across Ian’s chest.
They both yawn and close their eyes.
My heart nearly explodes at the Saturday morning adorableness of it all.
It would only be better if we had all woken up together in Ian’s bed…
I clear my throat and hightail it out of there before I let my fantasy spin completely out of control. Next thing you know, I’ll have us married in my head and raising twins, Rye and Oak.
He’s not my type,I remind myself again.
And I’m focusing on me, not dating, right now.
Except he really looks rumpled and sexy. I avert my eyes to resist temptation as I head out the front door, walking quickly.
My apartment looks less gloomy in the early morning light and I change into workout clothes and my running shoes before setting out.
The run clears my head, and after I do a couple of miles through the residential area, I pull the door open to Dinky’s Diner and take a seat at the counter. My cheeks are flushed and I feel invigorated.
“What can I get ya?” the man behind the counter asks. His name tag says BUDDY.
I wonder if Buddy is Dinky’s brother. Or maybe his son? Who knows, but I like the fact that he looks exactly like what a man slinging hash in a diner should look like. Round belly, a little grumpy, not making eye contact. He’s scratching away on his order pad before I’ve even spoken.
“Can I have a water with three slices of lemon?”
That has him looking up at me. “Three slices of lemon?”
“Yes. And no ice. I need to detox.”
He snorts. “Okay then. What else? Eggs? Bacon? Pancakes?”
“Nothing else, thanks. I came for the atmosphere.”
That earns me an eye roll. “I’m going to have to charge you then.”
“For the atmosphere?”
“For the lemons.”
“Sure, of course.” Hopefully they’re not ten dollars. Too late now though.
He turns and moves slowly down the counter.
When I look around, I realize Lucy is sitting next to me.
She reaches out and pats my arms. “Don’t let him get to you. He was born grumpy. I bet you’re just saving room to taste test your bourbon balls before you submit them for judging this afternoon.”
That has me sitting up straighter on my stool.
Shit. I entered the bourbon dessert contest last night.
Why the hell did I do that?
Oh, right.
Bourbon.
At that very moment, I get a text from an unknown number.
