Page 8 of Long Shot

They all turn to me, and even though three decidedly masculine pairs of eyes are focused on me, I’m really only aware of one—Cade’s.

“Marco and Carrie got engaged last night,” he says, grinning.

“Oh!” I turn to Marco. “Congratulations!” I like Marco’s girlfriend, er, fiancée. Carrie earned my respect the day she stepped in to help when things were extra busy in the bar. I also admire Carrie for the work she’s doing for disadvantaged kids.

“Thanks.” Marco beams.

“So when’s the wedding?” Beck asks.

Marco shrugs. “We didn’t talk about that at all yet.”

“We just went through this.” Cade shakes his head, still smiling. “Now another wedding.”

Marco grimaces. “Yeah. Maybe I can convince her to elope.”

Beck shakes his head. “Somehow I doubt that. Carrie had too much fun helping Hayden plan our wedding.”

I know that Beck and Hayden had just gotten married when I started working here.

“True.” Marco shrugs. “Well, there’s no rush. Not like for you two.”

“Fuck, we rushed the wedding because Carrie was moving to Spain,” Beck says. “And then she didn’t.”

“Uh, yeah.” Marco rubs his jaw. “Oops.”

“Ha-ha.” Beck claps his friend on the back. “No worries. It’s probably better than dragging everything out for a year.”

“Carrie’s having lunch with Hayden right now, showing off the ring,” Marco says.

“She liked it?”

“Yeah, thank Christ. Spent a fucking fortune on it.”

“She’s worth it, though, right?” Cade leans against the bar.

“Absolutely.”

I smile. Seeing all three men happy and relaxed is nice. Especially Cade. He never shows much emotion, so watching him smile and laugh with his friends, who he obviously cares about, always takes me aback.

I head back to put my stuff away before starting my shift, then pause at the kitchen where everyone is busy preparing for the lunch crowd. I frown at the bags of tortilla chips and jars of purchased salsa.

“Let’s make some chips today,” I suggest to Sid.

He frowns at me. “Why?”

“Because freshly made chips are so much better than bought. We should try a new salsa recipe, too.”

“We have salsa.”

I swallow a sigh. “I know, but as with the chips, something fresh and made here might be something people really enjoy.”

“You don’t work in the kitchen.” He’s not pushing back too hard, so I keep going.

“I know.” I shrug. “But it’s fun.”

He frowns at me as I get out a bunch of tortillas and start cutting them up.

“I’ll help.” Jenn, the prep cook, moves to one of the fryers to check the oil.

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