Page 27 of Armed ’N’ Ready

“It’s irrelevant.” He tossed the napkin in the trash bin beneath the bar. Since he’d started working at the café, women gave him their numbers all the time, but he’d never felt the remotest desire to hook up with any of them. Funny how he never paid attention to whether those women wore rosy pink lip gloss. Shit.

“That’s the fifth napkin in three days, and those are just the ones we know about. The staff has been collecting them. We call them the Napkin Girls.” She narrowed her eyes. “Remember, you’re here to work. Not to get laid.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He grinned, but she didn’t grin back at him. It was obvious she didn’t like having him in her place. Control was her thing, and allowing him in her restaurant was tantamount to submission. But he sensed there was more to it. She didn’t like him. Understandable, given the circumstances. Probably for the best.

As she turned and walked into the kitchen, he followed the motion of her gently swaying hips, then his eyes were drawn to the cell phone clipped to the waistband of her short khaki skirt. Most women didn’t wear their cell phones, so he was gratified to see she was taking their deal seriously. If—no, when—Myer called, she’d be able to answer right away.

Andi emerged from the kitchen, expertly balancing four plates, which she brought to a table in the corner. He liked that she didn’t hesitate to lend a hand to help out the waitresses, and that she took pride in her establishment. The place wouldn’t have survived this long without hard work and perseverance, things she clearly wasn’t afraid of.

After chatting for a minute with the party of four, she went to the coffee maker adjacent to the bar and began setting up a fresh pot to brew. Nick was heading her way when she picked up a cheeseburger from a plate Kara had set for her at the end of the bar, took two hefty bites then groaned in obvious pleasure. Standing over her shoulder now, he hmphed. “You’re a carnivore. I had you pegged as a strict fruit, nut, and salad-eating woman.”

Without turning, she set down the cheeseburger and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “Technically, I’m an omnivore. And why does it come as such a shock to you that I eat meat? Are you profiling me?”

“No, I—”

Something shattered. Andi spun as they both jerked their heads to the source of the noise—plates crashing to the floor. Not realizing he was so close, she plowed headfirst into him. As he clasped her arms, her hands flew to his chest. As gentle and soft as her touch was, it burned straight through his shirt to his skin. Holy hell. He hadn’t been this affected by a woman since he first met his wife. God help him if Andi ever touched him directly… The image of a fireball streaking across the sky came to mind.

“Sorry,” she said. Their gazes locked, then she quickly averted hers.

“No problem.” He released her arms but not before getting an eyeful of cleavage at the deep V of her pink blouse, and a disconcerting whiff of her flowery perfume that had him wondering if she’d dabbed some between her breasts. He cleared his throat. Keep it professional. “Can you cover the bar for a few minutes? I’ll clean that up.”

“Um, sure.” She slipped past him to check on the few remaining people sitting at the end.

As he watched her go, he dragged a hand down his face. The air conditioning inside the restaurant was cranked high, but the place was hotter than a sauna. She might still be a suspect, but that didn’t stop him from being attracted to her. That, he could live with. Attachment was where he’d drawn the line with any of the women who’d come and gone lately.

He grabbed a broom, waste pan, and an empty plastic dish bin from the kitchen then went out to the dining area where he found Zoe standing over the broken pile of plates. “I got this.” He crouched and began collecting the larger pieces and putting them in the bin.

“Thanks, Nick.” She smiled gratefully. “I’m a klutz, and you’re a doll. A really big doll, but you’re still a doll.”

“Get out of here.” He winked at her.

After he’d swept the area for smaller shards, he set the bin on a table and paused to look at one of the photos on the Wall of Dog. Andi’s face was framed by a black hood as she knelt in the snow, flanked on one side by a black and white Alaskan malamute, and the other by a pure white Samoyed. All three were smiling.

He leaned in to read the handwritten notes on the matting. Orion and Venus…gone from this earth, always in my heart. Love you always, Andi.

Before she spoke, he knew she was standing behind him. Even if he hadn’t heard her light footsteps, he recognized her flowery scent.

“They were my babies. My friends.” Her voice didn’t tremble, but there was deep emotion in her words.

“They were beautiful.” He turned to see the sadness in her eyes, but there was also love, and he wondered how a woman like her was still single. She had a helluva lot going for her. Intelligence, beauty, guts. From what he’d seen, any man with half a brain would be stupid not to jump at the chance to have her on his arm.

Aside from the possible money laundering thing.

“They were.” She nodded and swallowed. “Inside and out.”

“How long has it been?” Judging by her reaction, he’d guess not long.

She reached across the table and straightened the photo. “Venus left me three years ago, and Orion’s been gone almost five now.”

Longer than he’d thought. She was a woman who loved and experienced loss deeply, canines being no exception. “What’s with the celestial names?”

Aside from interacting with customers, he hadn’t once caught her in a genuine moment of joy. Now she surprised him by giving a quick laugh. “Amateur astronomy runs in the family.”

Interesting. “How long have you had Stray?”

She shook her head. “Stray’s not mine. She wandered onto the deck about a month ago, looking for food. She was emaciated, poor thing. I’m only taking care of her until I can find someone to adopt her.”

That explained why the dog wasn’t named after a planet, or comet, or some other celestial body. “You should keep her. You two are good together.”