Page 30 of Falling for the Wrong Guy

“It looks scary, especially on an arm this size, but Aria, I promise, I’m just a guy trying to survive, a guy who wants a simple life, a guy who lost a bet when he was on leave with his army buddies. They wanted me to get a snake, but I negotiated my way to a lion.”

“Not sure if that was the more wholesome choice,” she said with a laugh. “That thing looks so real I’m waiting for it to roar and take a bite out of me.”

“Frankie?” I tapped the lion’s nose. “Nah, he’s as harmless as?—”

“As Gus?” she asked wryly.

“Right. Probably shouldn’t make too many promises about my pets, real and ink.” I clapped my hands together once. “Now, let’s get these griddles and grills ready. How many should we expect this morning for breakfast?”

Aria smiled coyly. “Thirty to forty.”

“For the breakfast hour?” I asked.

“For the day. It’s off-season and midweek. Slow day. It really is a popular café, especially in summer.” She shook her head. “That sounds pathetic.”

“Thirty is a great number to start with.” I was temporarily caught off guard as she reached back and swept her lush copper hair up off her shoulders to pin it in a bun behind her head. Her neck was long and elegant like the rest of her. I pulled my gaze away.

There was a knock at the door.

“Overanxious customer?” I asked.

“We do get our share of them, but that’s Isla with the bread and baked goods.” She hurried out to answer the door. There was some heavy whispering before Aria returned with her sister and boxes of baked goods.

Like her sister, Isla had an incredible smile. “I’m glad you’re here, and I hope this works out.” She leaned in closer to whisper. “I really, really hope this works out because she’s been so grumpy?—”

“All right, all right,” Aria said. “If we don’t let Dex get to work, then it won’t work out, and I’ll be extra grumpy.”

Isla winked at me, then followed Aria to the door. They stood outside, and Isla peered back inside a few times before walking away.

Aria returned. She paused and her shoulders lifted with a deep breath. “Let’s give this a try. No more judging on size or ink or choice of pets—I promise.” Aria handed me an apron. “Follow me to the fridge, and we’ll get things going.”

ChapterTwenty

Aria

Just a few minutes with Dex made me feel more comfortable about my decision to give him a chance. Admittedly, I’d misjudged him many times since the gull incident. I’d immediately formed a negative opinion about him, and that was long before I knew he was Kellan’s brother. I wasn’t sure if it was his heart-tugging speech this morning or if knowing he was Kellan’s brother that helped change my mind about giving him a chance. It might have been both. Nonna would have such a laugh knowing her bonny Arrie, the girl intrigued by mysterious men, was shaken by the arrival of a man with an imposing shoulder span, a devilish grin and a handful of secrets swirling around him. I supposed rakes and rogues were far more dashing and easier to like in Nonna’s tales than in real life.

After watching those same imposing shoulders bunch and relax as he flipped pumpkin pancakes on a griddle, Dex’s dangerous edge had faded, but there was something about him—he was hiding a secret. It had something to do with his friend, Quinn, and it was causing him a great deal of stress. But he hadn’t let that get in the way of his job. He’d prepared my pickiest customers, Seymour and Betty Marshall, a frittata that they were still singing praises about as they walked out of the café. I heard nothing but compliments about the food, and he’d cooked it all quickly and, aside from a milk spill, without any problems.

When the last lunch customer walked out, we had our first chance to chat about the morning. Dex was fixing himself a sandwich plate. It was the first break he’d taken all day. He looked so entirely out of place standing in the small kitchen, I couldn’t hold back a laugh. He looked up from his plate.

“Too much food?”

“Not at all. Please, take as much as you like. And I’ve got a tub of tuna salad I put aside just for Gus. And maybe you could deliver a plate to Oscar.”

“Absolutely. That’s kind of you. Gus will appreciate it. I’d like to add that it’ll make him feel extra guilty about what he did, but I think we both know that would be a lie.”

I fixed myself a plate, and we sat at the work counter. We’d been working side by side all day. Linda, my server, had stopped me a few times to ask about the new cook. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him, and I couldn’t really blame her. He was a sight to see, even standing over a hot stove and wrapped in an apron.

“Do you want me to fill salt and pepper shakers?” Linda directed the question to me, I assumed, but she stared at Dex as she asked it. She was in her mid-twenties, fresh out of college and completely unsure what to do with her anthropology degree. She also changed boyfriends as often as I changed socks.

“That would be great, Linda. Thanks.”

She left the kitchen hesitantly.

“Well, first let me say—I’m impressed.” I picked up my sandwich. “The customers practically gave you a standing ovation as they walked out.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Dex said. “I can do any prep you need after the lunch break.”

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