Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Will do.” I kept my tone professional as I moved around the table, taking orders until I reached Eric. Him, I granted a bit more smile. Not enough to raise speculation, but he deserved a little extra warmth. “You want a surprise too? It has tequila.”
“No.” Eric frowned. “Iced tea.”
“Come on, man.” Percy playfully gestured at Eric. “You can’t come out for a drink and not drink.”
“If the guy wants iced tea, let him.” Sean gave Percy a stern look, which I appreciated. “We don’t goad friends into drinking around here.”
“Fine. But if ever there were someone more in need of a shot…” Percy trailed off as Sean’s glare sharpened. He held up both hands. “Dropping it.”
“I’ll be back with your drinks.” I moved away from the table. I needed to stay in waitstaff mode, not get caught up in Eric’s bad mood. However, I couldn’t resist trying to cheer him up when I brought out the assortment of appetizers the group had ordered.
“What’s this?” Eric frowned at the order of potato balls I’d deliberately set in front of him.
“Kitchen accidentally made up an extra order of our newest potato dish. Thought you guys might like to try it.”
“Thanks.” His jaw was loaded-spring tight, and he didn’t look the least bit interested in sampling the offering, passing it along down the table.
As I moved away, Percy resumed his ribbing of Eric.
“You really need to lighten up. Impending grandparenthood has made you act old before your time.”
“Maybe I am old.” Eric huffed as he glanced toward the bar, where the tourist continued to nurse his third cocktail. Yeah, he’d observed the earlier flirting.
“Speaking of Grandpa Eric, how is Maren these days?” Ever the peacemaker, Sean used a more jovial tone than Percy. I busied myself wiping down nearby tables so I could listen in on Eric’s reply.
“Good.” Eric was, if anything, even more wooden with Sean. “The second trimester has been easier on her with less nausea.”
“Are they going to do a gender reveal party?” Tennessee looked up from playing with Tate’s hand to ask Eric. “Those seem to be absurdly popular these days.”
“I don’t think so.” Eric shrugged, wincing like the motion hurt, and I wanted to rub his shoulders in the worst way. “She doesn’t fill me in on much though.”
“Adult kids are the worst at small talk,” Sean chimed in, bringing the conversation to updates on Declan and Jonas and the continued work at their property outside of town. I drifted away to check on other patrons and my crew.
“So, what time do you close up?” the tourist asked when I returned to the bar. He wasn’t giving up easily. “Wanna walk me back to the hotel?”
And, naturally, the universe chose that second for Eric to stride by on his way to the restrooms.
“Nah. Sorry, mate.” I raised my voice slightly, hoping Eric would hear my reply. “I’ve had a long day and need to get home to my dogs.”
Which was the truth and exactly what happened. Shortly after Eric and his group of friends paid their tab and headed out, I closed the restaurant for the night and took myself home to where Ben and Jerry were waiting at the carriage house. Despite having access to the dog run and frequent visits to the main house, they acted like they’d been cooped up for years.
I took them for a short walk only to find Eric lingering near the carriage house door when I returned.
“Fancy meeting you here.” I gave him a smile. “Everything okay?”
“It’s fine.” Eric sure didn’t look fine—weary eyes but restless energy and more of that earlier grumpiness pinching his expression. “House feels too damn empty. Maren must have gone to sleep early again. Wren is on a school trip to Seattle for a science expo. John’s spending the night at Elliot’s to review game footage before Friday’s first home game.”
“Want to come in?” I opened my door.
“No. Yes.” Eric shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Fuck. I came to apologize for being short earlier.”
“It’s okay.” I patted his shoulder, taking the opportunity to direct us into the carriage house along with the dogs. “You’re allowed a bad mood.”
“It wasn’t a bad mood,” Eric lied.
“Oh?” I gave him a pointed stare.
“Fine.” He flopped onto the loveseat near the stairs to the loft. “That tourist was trying hard to get you to hook up.”
“Yep,” I agreed easily, leaning against the narrow wooden loft stairs rather than squeezing myself next to Eric. “But I turned him down.”
He made a frustrated noise. “You didn’t have to.”
“You wanted me to say yes?” I peered down at him, trying to suss out whether this was a new sharing kink, indifference, or more lying.
“No.” He groaned. “That’s why I was in a bad mood. We’re friends with a no-strings fling. I have no right to tell you not to flirt with tourists or Percy.”