“Thanks.” She grimaced. The extra attention wasn’t entirely welcome, but after a few years of waitressing she’d learned to deal with it, since it resulted in more tips. She quickly cleared a table while Jack got drinks ready, then loaded up her tray to serve them.
The evening passed quickly as things got busier. Fatigue set in after a long day. She was leaning on the bar trying to take some weight off her sore feet when she looked up and saw four big guys walk in. She didn’t even know who they were, but had a feeling they were hockey players.
They were in her section, so she went over to wait on them. Was one of them the depressed goalie, Brent Stoyko? Luckily happy hour was over so she didn’t have to mention the drink special.
Actually, nobody seemed depressed. They were all talking and laughing. She took orders for beer, beer, and more beer.
“You new here, doll?” one of the players asked.
“Relatively.” She smiled. “I’m Amber.”
“You were the one the fight broke out over the other night.”
She looked at the guy who’d spoken and made a face. “That’s me. Were you one of the guys who put a halt to that whole debacle?”
He grinned. “Yep. I’m Hugh Land. Had to help our teammate Armdog. He was getting jumped from all sides.”
“Uh. Yeah. Well, I’ll get your drinks.”
“Wait,” Hugh said. “You should meet the other guys. This is Brent Stoyko.” Cripes, he was gorgeous, like a model with perfectly messy hair and incredible blue eyes. “This is Olaf Pilkvist. He’s Swedish. If you couldn’t tell.” She smiled at the man with pale blond hair. “And this is Ryan Kirby, our rookie.” She smiled at the younger guy too. He was eyeing her with sexual interest, a look that had a cocky edge to it compared to Olaf’s and Hugh’s polite friendliness.
“Nice to meet you all.”
“You’ll get to know us,” Olaf said. “We hang up here all the time.”
“Hang out here.” Hugh punched Olaf’s shoulder. “He’s still learning English.”
“I speak English fine,” Olaf protested.
“You really do,” Amber agreed. “You hardly have any accent at all.”
“Thank you.”
She left the table and just as she returned, sure enough Jared, Marc, and Duncan had arrived and were walking up to the table. Her eyes met Duncan’s with a little jolt.
Crap.
In that instant she knew he felt it too—a swell of pleasure inside her at seeing him, a tingle in her limbs.
Crappity crap crap.
He gave her an up-and-down look that should have pissed her off but instead heated her blood. Then he scowled.
That pissed her off.
Keeping a smile firmly in place, she approached the table. “Hi, guys. What can I get you?”
“Hey, Amber.” Jared greeted her with a smile. “Good to see you again.”
“You too, boss.”
He laughed.
“Hi, Amber,” Marc said. “So the rumor is true, you work at the Sin Bin.”
She grinned at him. “Hi, Marc. How’s Lovey?”
“Great. She’s working on her blog tonight. She said if I see you to ask for your email address so she can send you a link.”
“Oh. Sure.”
Marc picked up one of the hockey puck coasters and she wrote her email address on the back. “She’d probably like to take more pictures of you,” he said. “It would be awesome to have an actual model on the blog.”
“Amber probably expects to get paid for her modeling jobs,” Duncan said.
Her insides went cold. She turned her gaze on him, trying to ignore how good he looked in faded jeans, boots, and a black-and-white plaid shirt left untucked and rolled up on his forearms. “Hello, farm boy.” Then she pointedly turned away from him and back to Marc. “Tell Lovey that’s not the case at all. She can email me and maybe we can set something up. I have to warn you though, I have a pretty full schedule.”
“Yeah, so does she,” Marc said. “But she’s flexible. She’d probably like to have lunch or something.”
Amber paused, a little twist of longing in her chest. “That would be nice. So what can I get you three?”
They too ordered beer and she left the table, not without her eyes meeting Duncan’s once more. She felt him watching her as she walked away. She knew her skirt was short and tight. Was he watching her ass? She resisted the urge to turn around and look.
She leaned on the bar and gave Jack their order. Soon her tray was full of glasses with various types of ale and lager. Jared’s beer menu apparently catered to his friends’ preferences. And why not, when you owned the place?