by Terri Osburn
“You brewing the damn beers back there?” Sid asked. “What the hell?”
“Relax. I just have to pop the tops off the Millers and you’re good to go.” Lucas snagged two bottles from the next beer cooler down, then caught a look between the ladies on his way back.
“Dude,” Willow was saying, “you should have told me.”
“Tell you what?” Sid replied, piling the drinks on her tray. Lucas took his time with the bottle caps, pretending he wasn’t listening. “I bet I could outearn him in tips so he’s holding up my orders on purpose.” Raising her voice, she added, “You’d suck as a PI, Dempsey. Get your ass down here and give me those beers.”
“You two have a bet going?” Will asked.
Lucas put the beers on the tray. “Her idea. Fifty bucks she could earn more than I can.”
“A hundred.”
“Right, a hundred.” Lucas shot Will his best smile. “At this rate she’ll be lucky if she makes the fifty.”
The look Sid sent his way should have put him on life support. “Shift’s not over yet, fancy pants.”
“We’ll see,” he said.
“I know how you can win,” Will said.
Sid and Lucas gave her their full attention. Sid asked first. “You talking to me or him?”
Will snorted. “As if I’d help him.” He raised a brow and she added, “You’re cute and all, but she’s my friend.”
“I didn’t realize the banshee had any friends.”
“You’re lucky there’s a bar between us.” Sid dropped an order pad into her apron pocket and leaned toward Will. “So how?”
“Easy,” Will shrugged. “Take off your shirt.”
“Take off my what?” Sid blinked, certain she’d heard wrong.
“I’ll second that suggestion,” Lucas said, his solid brows wiggling over dancing green eyes.
“Shut up, preppy.”
“You’re wearing a tank underneath there, right?” Will said. “I can see the white at the bottom.”
Sid tugged at the hem of her tee. “I always wear a tank. So?”
Will rolled her eyes. “So take off that T-shirt that’s two sizes too big and I guarantee your tips will triple.”
“You’re crazy. I’m not stripping just to win a bet.”
“No one’s suggesting you go topless.” Will backed off her stool. “That night you got dressed up at O’Hagan’s got me more tips in one night than I normally make in a weekend. Might as well use those curves to help yourself.
“There are curves under there?” Lucas tossed a bar rag over his shoulder. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Something took flight in Sid’s gut and an unfamiliar heat shot up from her toes. She couldn’t fight the blush so she reached for something familiar to cover. Anger.
“What happened to this being a family restaurant, huh? A few hours ago you were worried this shirt would offend someone. Now you want me to take it off.”
“Hey,” he said, throwing up his hands, “if you’re ashamed of whatever you keep under those manly clothes, just keep the shirt on.”
Lucas shoved a chilled glass under the beer tap but the sideways look he gave her said he knew exactly what he was doing. Damn him.
“Fine.” She turned on Will. “But if this doesn’t work, I’m coming after you.”
“It’ll work. Just don’t break any noses when guys start hitting on you.” Will turned to Lucas. “Thanks for the drink, Charming. I’d apologize for the killing you’re about to receive, but I have a feeling you’ll thank me later.”
With a wink she was gone, leaving Sid to wonder what the hell that meant.
“You’ve got customers waiting.” Lucas poured Will’s soda down the sink and dropped the glass in the strainer. “If you’re going to strip, get it over with and get back on the floor.”
Maybe she could stuff her shirt down his throat. “I’ll be right back.”
Sid ducked into the kitchen and headed for the office in the back. She took three deep breaths and recalled the memory of that night at O’Hagan’s when Beth had cleaned her up. Or girlified her, as Joe had deemed it. She could do this. What was the big deal?
Before losing her nerve, she ripped the black tee over her head and dropped it on the chair. Too bad the office didn’t have a mirror. No way would she run to the bathroom to check her reflection. A quick glance down revealed no obvious stains, and the light pink of her bra didn’t show through. Much.
Another deep breath. Time to pull in some tips.
Sid shot for casual as she cruised through the kitchen. As she rounded the end of the counter, she heard Chip holler and turned to see him stick his thumb in his mouth.
“You all right?”
“Uh muh,” he nodded, eyes wide and cheeks red.
“Did you cut yourself?”
“Gob distwacted.”
Sid nodded. “Um, okay.” Tucking a stray lock behind her ear, she stepped toward the kitchen doorway, only to hear a pan drop behind her. Turning, she found Flynn staring as if he’d seen a ghost. “You didn’t cut yourself too, did you?”
Flynn’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he grabbed a frying pan off the floor. He had to reach for it three times before catching the handle, since his eyes stayed on Sid.
“What?” she asked, throwing a hand on her hip.
“It’s just …” Flynn shook his head and continued to stare.
“Forget it,” Sid said, preferring the chaos on the floor to that in the kitchen. Maybe the guys were sneaking the liquor. She’d have to ask Patty if they did that. Didn’t seem like a good idea while working around fire and sharp objects.
She exited the kitchen to find one of the other waitresses at the side of the bar sorting her tickets. Tall and blonde with the body of a devout surfer and the tan to match, Daisy stood more than a head above Sid, but then everyone beat Sid in height. Her increased attitude made up for being vertically challenged.
Sid noticed her tray was empty.
“Where are my drinks?”
“Lucas had me deliver them. Natives were getting restless.” Daisy looked up. “I thought you were …”
“Thought I was what?”
“On a break.” Daisy stuffed the tickets in her apron and pulled a tray from beneath her arm. “I’m glad Mitch isn’t working today.”
Mitch being Daisy’s boyfriend, it seemed as if she’d have wanted him around. The waitress disappeared into the crowd without another word, leaving the mystery hanging. Sid shrugged and reached for her tray.
“Weird.”
Lucas was at the other end of the bar serving customers. She went back to the floor without the satisfaction of ripping his head off for making her look bad. Natives getting restless. Whatever. Charging over to the windows, she checked on the table where Daisy had delivered the drinks.
“Sorry for the holdup, folks. Did everyone get what they wanted?”
Two women occupied the left bench while two guys in ball caps held down the right. The guy on the end wore his hat backwards and his chin looked like the home of a Chia Pet. More clean-cut, guy two looked to be hiding a unibrow under his low-pulled cap, with sunglasses perched over the bill.
They looked the type to chest bump while watching football. Both stared at Sid in silence, while the woman across from Chia smacked her neighbor, who looked up from sipping her drink. The smackee didn’t look a day over nineteen. Sid would have carded her if she’d asked for anything stronger than soda.
Young thing’s straw danced between cubes as she dropped her glass to the table. Chia and shades sunk into their seats like someone had let the air out of the cushions. “We’ve got everything we could ask for now,” said one of the men. A thud came from under the table. “Ow!”
“Okay then.” Either these guys were lightweights who got a buzz off half a glass, or something weird was going around this restaurant. “Ready to place your order?”
Frat boys looked smacked dumb, so she turned to the women. Chia’s girl spoke up. “We’re ready.”
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Sid waited, pen poised. Another thud and the guy closest to the window jerked upright. “We’ll each have the Dempsey All American with fries on the side for her,” he waved a hand toward the woman sitting across from him, “and onion rings for me.”
Sid dropped her hands to her hips. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked.
“Yes, I am,” the woman answered for him.
“And he ordered for you like that? Dude. You should kick him again.”
“Hey.”
“I should.” Another thud.
“Stop that, damn it.”
Sid tsked. “Not the way to talk to a lady.” She turned to the other man. “I bet you can do better. What will it be, scruffy?”
He scooted his legs outside the booth before ordering. “Meagan will have the grilled chicken salad with dressing on the side and I’ll take the cheeseburger.” Girlfriend lifted a brow and he added, “Please.”
“That’s the way to do it. Two All Americans, fries and onion rings, grilled chicken salad, dressing on the side.” She lifted her pen. “What kind of dressing?”
“Ranch.”
“Got it.” Sid pointed the pen at Scruffy. “And you’re the cheeseburger. Fries good with that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then we’re all set.” Collecting the menus, Sid leaned close to the brunette. “Just my observation, but you two could do better.”
The woman’s blue eyes widened, then she grinned.
Before the first customers had rolled in, Daisy told Sid that if the female customers were happy, then everybody’s happy. Since the frat boys didn’t look like big tippers, this table seemed like the right place to test that strategy.
“I’ll put the orders in, then come check on you for refills.” Sid tucked the menus under her arm and moved to the next table over. This one held a family of four—mom, dad, boy, and girl—but the mom and girl had disappeared. “How we doing over here? Are the ladies going to need refills?”
A towheaded boy, maybe six years old, looked up from the Matchbox car he’d been pushing around his plate. When he caught sight of Sid, the car zoomed off the table. “You look like the ladies on daddy’s secret calendar.”
Daddy choked on his tongue and covered the little guy’s mouth. Thanks to a receding hairline, the blush covered his entire head. “Yes, we’ll take drinks all around if you don’t mind.”
“Don’t mind at all.” Sid winked at the little boy. “That’s not a dog calendar, is it?”
Munchkin shook his head.
“Good. Be right back with the drinks.”
Weaving through the tables, she reached the bar and found Lucas back at her end filling a beer from the tap. “You shouldn’t have sent Daisy out with those drinks. I wasn’t gone that long.”
Lucas looked up and froze, the beer still pouring.
“Not you, too,” she said. “Did someone spray brain fog in here while I was back in the office?”
“You took your shirt off.” The beer flowed.
“That is why I went back there.”
Beer reached the top of the glass and spilled over, drenching his hand. “Shit.” Lucas cut off the tap and set the glass in the sink. Pulling the rag off his shoulder, he wiped his hands. “You look … different.”
Sid looked down. Nothing looked different from that angle. “Did I grow a third eye?”
“No, but you grew something.” Lucas huffed, pacing the two feet to the back counter, then back to the bar. “That’s what you hide under those T-shirts?”
“You act like I’m wearing a sidearm. They’re tits, Dempsey. Every woman has them.”
“Not like those they don’t.”
Daisy stepped up next to Sid. “Look,” Sid said. She stood close to the other waitress for comparison, ignoring the fact the blonde’s boobs were at her eye level. “She has them too. In fact,” she waved an arm in the air, “this place is crawling with the things.”
“I hope we’re talking about eyebrows,” said Daisy, “or this would be weird.”
Sid snagged the pitchers of sweet tea and soda. “We’re talking about boobs. Dempsey here’s never seen any before.”
“I’ve seen plenty,” he argued, but Sid kept walking.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sid considered pouring the pitchers over her own head. The heat in Lucas’s eyes had loosened up her gut and sent currents shooting through her limbs. Felt like when she used a drill too long and the vibrations skittered along her skin even after she’d turned it off.
The night Beth had dolled her up, Sid had felt like a girl for the first time in years. Maybe ever. But the look she’d just gotten from Lucas made her feel like a woman. Something new and freaky and unexpected. In a good way. Kind of.
“Who needed the refills?” she asked, returning to the little boy’s table. The mother and daughter had returned. The dad kept his eyes on his plate.
“I’ll take one, but no more for the kids, thanks,” said the mom.
“She’s our calendar girl,” the little boy said, smiling to reveal a gaping hole where a tooth used to be. “Ain’t she, Dad?”
“Our what?” the mother asked.
“Nothing, dear.” The dad wrapped an arm around the boy’s head, tucking him into his side. The move looked more like an attempt to suffocate the kidlet than hug him. “Could we get the check, please?”
“But mom said we could have cherry pie for dessert and we haven’t even ordered that yet.” The girl looked slightly older than her brother and sported the same toothless grin. Sid wondered if they’d knocked them out for each other the way Randy had once knocked hers out during a wrestling match.
He’d panicked at the sight of blood, giving Sid the chance to pin him the required three seconds and claim victory.
“One piece of pie for each?” she asked the mom.
Headband askew on her short brown hair, the woman looked from one child to the other. “One piece and they can split it.”
“Aw, Mom,” echoed in stereo.
“One piece of cherry with two forks on the way.” Sid glanced over to the dad, who looked ready to bolt. “And I’ll bring the check.”
Spotting new customers filing into an empty booth in her section, Sid decided to get their drink orders before hitting the kitchen for the pie. Though she’d never admit it, she kind of liked being called a calendar girl.
Lucas had never been punched before, but seeing Sid standing there looking like a goddess in white cotton and hints of pink lace knocked the wind out of him. The one or two times he’d seen her smile had sent him back a step, but the full blast of that body about put him on his ass.
How the hell could anyone hide all that? From the smooth, olive shoulders to the trim waist and sultry curve of her hips. And the breasts were perfection, especially in that lacy number clearly visible beneath the white cotton of the tank. The designer of that garment deserved an award.
And that begged another question. What was Sid doing wearing a girlie number like that?
Lucas decided there needed to be a law against Sid Navarro ever wearing anything baggy. Ever. Maybe he could file the papers to add a statute to the island bylaws. Gather a petition if necessary. Every male on Anchor would sign.
For the two hours following what he now thought of as the big reveal, Sid barked out drink orders and he filled them. No casual banter. No snide insults. No harmless teasing. Something had changed between them. As if a switch were thrown and a cloud of sexual tension fogged up his brain.
He’d like to think the same cloud fogged Sid’s brain, but then he hadn’t taken anything off (something he’d be willing to correct) and her face gave nothing away. The woman was operating like a robot. No facial expression, unless you counted that crease between her brows and stubborn set of her chin to be a facial expression.
“Looks like the place is still standing. That’s a good sign,” said Joe, joining Lucas behind the bar. “Everything go okay?”
Lucas was tempted to say no, then d
emand to know why Joe hadn’t warned him about Sid and her best-kept secret. Or secrets, in this case. But then Joe wouldn’t notice a glacier unless it landed on his boat. He never did have much of a radar for hot women. Until Lucas had put his fiancée in Joe’s path. Then the radar zoomed right in.
“What’d you think, that I’d ruin the business in one day?”
“Forget I asked.” Joe dropped his keys in a drawer below the register. “Let me grab some rags, then I’ll take over so you can count your drawer.”
A simple “thanks” should have been his response. Instead Lucas said, “You do that.” Six weeks of acting like a douche was not in his plans, but he needed another day or two to adjust his attitude. He’d prefer to make the adjustment himself rather than force Joe to take matters into his own hands.
Lucas had been ready for a brawl six weeks ago, but that night he’d been running on anger and hurt. Both emotions remained, but neither would be quelled with his fists. The fact Joe worked out with a punching bag on a regular basis put the odds squarely in his brother’s favor anyway. Lucas preferred litigation over pugilism.
“I’m heading to the office to count my tips,” Sid said, dropping her tray with the other spares under the bar. “I’ll take your jar with me so you can’t add to it while I’m gone.”
“You don’t trust me?” Lucas asked, struggling to keep his eyes above her neck.
“You’re a lawyer.”
“And you’re a mechanic.”
“So what?”
“So mechanics are notorious for telling people they need shit fixed when they don’t.” The line between Sid’s eyes deepened at his words. “If we’re going by occupation, you’re more likely to cheat.”
“You piece of sh—”
“Hey guys,” Beth said, stepping between them. “How did it go today?”
Lucas raised his brows at Sid, giving her the chance to answer first.
“Fine,” Sid said, making it sound like a totally different four-letter word.
Beth glanced his way as if waiting for his agreement. He nodded. Whatever war waged between him and Sid was their own business.
“Good.” Beth returned her eyes to Sid and must have noticed the steam coming out of her ears. “Are you sure? This feels a little … tense.”