“Shane Laughtner, and this is Chase Hammond.” He nods at his . . .friend?
“Pleasure,” Janine purrs as she shakes hands with them casually. “Make yourselves at home . . .” She looks over Shane’s shoulder, suddenly distracted. “Please excuse me. My fiancé just walked in.” She hurries off, but not without delivering ayou can thank me later, biotchlook behind Shane and Chase’s back. I just roll my eyes as I’m left with the two untouchable hotties.
Look but don’t touch totally sucks.
“Since you’re staying, if you want to order something to eat, it’ll have to be now. The kitchen is closing.” I hand them each a menu, then finish prepping the bar for Shayna, who apparently decided to show up fashionably late and not let anyone know. Luckily, I only have to refill the ice bin and cut some more limes.
“Hmmm.” Shane inspects the single-page menu thoughtfully. “See something you like?” I ask sweetly. What’s the harm in flirting a little?
“I see a lot of things I like,” he flirts back, peeking over the laminated edge.
I pause.Wasthat flirtatious? Or was it just an interest in the food?
“Lobster rolls, famous clam chowder fritters, corn dogs, lobster Reuben sandwich with Old Bay french fries, shrimp and crab nachos, chicken and waffle sliders, spinach and ricotta grilled cheese? This is a very eclectic menu.”
I shrug modestly. “It appeals to a variety of palettes.”
“That it does. It’s very surprising—”
“Considering the place looks like a dive?” I put him on the spot.
“That’s not what I meant . . . or wanted to imply,” Shane stammers. “It has a certain earthy charm.”
“Earthy charm, huh? Is that the politically correct term for shithole?” I toy with him, leaning over the bar top haughtily.
Shane squirms in his chair.
I wink playfully. “It’s okay. The owner knows the place is in desperate need of a facelift. He’s working on it.”
Chase laughs, the sound deep and smooth. Like black silk gliding over my skin. “I like her.”
Shane breaks out in a slow, sinful smile. “I do, too.” Their simple exchange makes my scalp tingle. I’m not sure why. There’s something about them I can’t quite put my finger on. But in the short amount of time I’ve spent in their presence, I’m becoming fond of them. They have an unusual energy. An alluring energy.
“So what will it be?” I ask.
“Surprise us.” Shane hands over his menu.
“You sure?” I accept the challenge.
“Yes. Let’s see what this place has to offer.”
I glance at Chase. He nods confidently. “We like surprises.” His statement sounds like a cryptic message.
“Who doesn’t?” I turn on my heel and saunter into the kitchen, feeling the burn of four blazing eyes on my backside.
I call out the order to Charli, our line chef, as I scoop two bowls of lobster bisque and grab a loaf of fresh bread with a side of whipped honey-poppy seed butter.
I serve Shane and Chase their first course. “I hope you like seafood.”
“Love it.” Shane inhales the warm, sweet scent of the bisque.
“I’m not trying to brag, but I’ve been told that soup is better than sex. Enjoy.” I bat my eyelashes coquettishly.
Both of their handsome faces light up. Chase sucks on his lower lip as if restraining a response. The gesture actually makes my inner thighs quiver. He flicks his dark eyes over at Shane enigmatically before tasting the soup. “Jesus, this is good.” Chase dives in for a bigger spoonful. I inwardly jump for joy.
“Glad you like it.” I smile brightly, not masking my abundant satisfaction.
I leave them to eat as I serve the wave of customers crowding the bar. It’s getting closer and closer to nine, and people are piling in for the party.
