She’s mumbling an apology but glaring at Bruce like he’s soon to be road kill.
“It’s okay. I’m good,” I say, accepting her handful of napkins so I can tend to the job myself.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d kept your fingers to yourself,” she says to Bruce and I instantly I like this woman. She’s now standing with her shoulders back and one hand on her hip like she’s about to lay into the old guy. With her attention turned to him I get the chance to check her out. She’s easily six feet and in the black cotton pants, which I’m assuming are part of the staff uniform, I’m left admiring her ass. God I’d love to get my hands on those cheeks.
Bruce leans toward her and says, “Sorry about that. Old habits die hard.”
“And fingers can break just as hard.”
Oh, now I’m so in love with her. Bruce laughs and then says again he’s truly sorry and she doesn’t speak for about thirty seconds.
She turns her graceful neck and fixes me with a hard look. “I’ll be back with your new drink. And grab your food order if you’re looking to get anything from the kitchen. I’d recommend something quick because it’s closing in twenty.”
With her back straight, and the tray balanced on one hand, she marches back to the bar and even though I know I shouldn’t be gawking at her, I can’t help it. There’s something magnetic about her.
“Nice ass.”
“The only person here being an ass is you. Stop doing that.”
“Like I said, old habits die hard. But she’s got spunk. God, I’d love to get between those thighs.”
I cringe. Nothing makes my stomach heave more than listening to Bruce and my grandfather get crude. Normally, I’d play along just to make them think I’m one of them, but not tonight.
“So you staying just for the night?” Please say yes.
“Oh yeah. I’m here today and gone tomorrow. This was just a check-in. Listen, the staff told me the owners were gone all day, but you’d best get yourself acquainted with them tomorrow. This place is a land full of cash and your grandfather has big plans for it. Don’t screw this up.”
“I won’t.”
“Here’s your drink. It’s on the house.” The waitress arrives, and I discover she has the loveliest teal blue eyes I’ve even seen. She might rock the hair cut, but I get the distinct impression from the olive hue of her skin and high cheek bones she’s more European than Native.
“Thanks so much, Alyssa.”
She seems startled that I’ve called her by her name, but it’s clearly spelled out on her name tag. I’m trying to break the ice. She simply scowls like I’m the one in the dog house and not the one who palmed her ass.
“Your order.”
“Ah, I’ll have a steak.”
“Make that two,” says Bruce.
“You sure you don’t want the fish? They’re fresh from the lakes around here.”
“Think I’ll pass,” I say.
“You sure? ’Cause I heard they caught a magnificent specimen earlier today.”
There’s something in the way she’s smiling and saying it that makes me wonder what’s up. I made sure no one was around when I went for my dip so I’m feeling more than puzzled.
“No. I’ll just have the steak.”
“And how would you like it.”
With her, naked on the side. I refrain from voicing my thoughts. “I like my meat slightly on the rare side.”
I take a sip of the drink and I’m the one coughing up a storm. A full smile blooms on her face.
“It’s disgusting, I know. But they assure me the locals like it.”
Only if you like tar. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Wish I was. I’ve tried my fourth and I think it’s getting better or maybe my taste buds have died,” says Alyssa.
Those two sentences tell me a wealth of information. One, she’s not from around here and two she hasn’t been here that long. She’s probably one of the new summer college students.
“Yeah, think I’ll stick with regular draft from now on.” I wipe my hands on my jeans when all I want to do is lean closer.
“I’ll have a rum and coke,” says Bruce.
She’s so drop-dead gorgeous, I find myself getting tongue-tied and all I can think about is ditching Bruce so I can continue this conversation with her in private. I vow to hang back for closing.
An hour later Bruce leaves and I watch as the staff start to close up.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” asks the large guy who has been behind the bar all evening. I get the distinct impression he knows exactly why I’m hanging around and this is his way of telling me to get lost.