Page 13 of Matchmaking On The Menu

She grins and raises her hands in surrender. “Fine, I need to control the troops anyway.”

She waddles back to her booth, and I turn back to Mary. “You know you’re giving up serving what is certainly the hottest guy to enter our diner since it was built, right?”

“He’s not even that attractive,” she mutters. “Besides, you know how I get with out-of-towners.”

“He’s not attractive? Are you blind?” I fire back just a little too loud.

A couple of heads turn, and Mary slaps a hand over my mouth. Thankfully, the customer doesn’t seem to hear.

I stick my tongue out. She jerks back, wiping her hand on her apron. “Gross, Dannica! What are you, five?”

“Coming from the one who won’t serve the cute boy.”

“He isn’t cute.”

“Honey, I’m straight and even I can tell he’s cute,” Llewellen says dryly.

“See?” I shrug. Case closed.

Quadri sidles up like she’s been summoned by chaos. “If neither of you serve that hunk of meat, I will.”

I snap my head toward her. Over my dead body.

I don’t even know why I’m arguing this. Of course I’m going to serve him. Like that was ever in question.

“Fine. But you owe me Sundays ’til the end of the month,” I say to Mary. I can’t let her off that easily.

“Done.” She doesn’t even hesitate.

Interesting. Which means she’ll be dealing with Beverly and her eternal grudge for the next few weeks. I should feel bad, but I don’t. Mary’s twenty-two and still blushes when men make eye contact. I don’t. At least… I didn’t. That feels questionable now.

“Poor guy,” Shelly calls from the fry station. “You’re going to make him trip over his tongue and break his heart. I can see the headline now.” She spreads her hands wide. “Perpetual singleton wreaks havoc on male population.”

She cocks a hand on her hip. “How’d I do?”

Heat creeps up my neck.

“Jesus, Shel, I’m not that bad.” It’s not my fault this town recycles the same five personalities on a loop.

“When was the last time you went on a date?” Quadri pipes up.

What’s with the ganging up today? Jeez. I open my mouth, then snap it shut. “That’s not the point.”

“It is absolutely the point.”

“You are damn infuriating, Four.”

“You don’t blink at men,” she says. “But this one? You look like you could sprint over to his table faster than you ran in these doors when you were late.”

My pulse betrays me with an ill-timed thud. I grab my pen before I can dignify that with an answer—or confirm it.

I blow out a breath. “All right, Dannica, to table Tall, Dark and Combustibly Handsome.”

He’s focused on the menu like it’s a final exam, completely oblivious to the fact that he just detonated my entire personality.

Internally, I’m in absolute turmoil. Externally? I slide into place with an easy, practiced smile.

“Afternoon. What’ll it be? Coffee first? Or are we being bold today?”