“Very. But it went by fast.” I can’t believe it’s already nine forty-five. It feels like I walked in the door one hour ago instead of five.
He grabs his keys, and we walk out together. “I can’t decideif I like it better that way or not. It’s kind of nice when the time flies by, but I also like when it’s calm and we have time to breathe, you know?”
“I know what you mean.”
I think the rush was good for tonight, though, because it kept my mind off Margarine. I took a fifteen-minute break around seven and saw a text from my mom with a picture of Margie in her favorite bed at home. It helped knowing the vet thought it was safe for her to come home, and that she was back where she could be more comfortable.
“I’m sorry about those guys,” Myles says. “They were assholes.”
I cringe remembering them. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re the exact opposite of them.”
The tips of his ears turn pink, which proves my point. “Still,” he says. “Guys suck, sometimes.”
“You’re not wrong,” I allow. “But you’ve had your fair share of semi-aggressive flirtation directed your way too.”
He tips his head in my direction, as if acknowledging that truth. “Seems a little different, though, coming from dudes who can’t read the room. It was pretty obvious you weren’t interested.”
“I’m pretty sure they could read it and chose to ignore it,” I say dryly.
Myles makes a face. “Well. If we’re ever working together and it happens again, just say the word, and I’ll switch tables with you. I’ll be smooth about it. Say we messed up with the server assignment or something.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. Same goes for you, you know.” I flex my bicep, which is way smaller than his, and add, “I’ll defend your honor any day.”
We reach the side door, and Myles, smiling, holds it open with one hand, gesturing for me to go first. “Should we have a code word? Or a signal?”
I stop under the awning and stroke my chin. “How about ‘switch’?”
He shakes his head. “Too obvious. We gotta think outside the box.”
“Or,” I counter, “make it something that wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary at a restaurant. Maybe a phrase, like… ‘The soup is cold.’ ”
His lower lip juts out as he thinks. “ ‘The soup is cold.’ That’s not bad, as long as Chef Ray doesn’t overhear and think we’re insulting his cooking.”
“True, I’d hate to offend Chef Ray.” I pause and grin. “Basenji?”
Myles barks out a laugh. “Yes. One hundred percent, that’s the one.”
I flush with pleasure that he loves my suggestion, and I tilt my head down to check the time on my phone in hopes he won’t notice my red cheeks. “Well, I’d better get going,” I say. “See you later?”
“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll see you at work next week.”
I wave as I turn away from the parking lot and toward the road, and Myles calls out, “Where are you going?”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Home?”
He frowns. “Are you walking?”
“Yeah?”
“But it’s dark.”
“I’ve walked home in the dark plenty of times.” Our town’s crime rate is incredibly low, but I also keep pepper spray in my bag just in case. “It’s perfectly safe.”
He’s still frowning at me. The glow of the streetlight spills across his blond hair and broad shoulders, highlighting the movement as he folds his arms across his chest.
The waves crash steadily in the distance. “It’s Kingfisher Cove,” I say, as if that’s enough.
“In the fall I’d agree with you, but in the summer we basically double in size. The tourists outnumber the locals.”
