Page 2 of Silent Heart

I didn’t know what to say to that.

The other man simply watched in silence.

“Okay, so one craft brew—because the shandy sounds too fruity—and one iced tea,” the pretty one continued. He leaned over the table, addressing the silent one. “But I am tasting that beer.”

“Alright, ID please,” I breathed, ignoring the twist in my gut that I had other tables waiting for me.

Twinkle eyes threw back his head and laughed. “Miss, I’m as old as you are.”

“And I’m twenty,” I lied. “ID please, until you’re forty—which you’re clearly not—I check. It’s my job.”

“Ah, damn that collagen shit I’ve been taking. Keeping my baby face soft.” As he spoke, he dragged out his ID and presented it to me, wedding band flashing in the light.

Someone caught him already? No matter, it wasn’t him that called to me.

It was the other, who hadn’t spoken a single syllable. I was hyper aware of him.

Lucas Williams and Kole Williams. Both were from Chicago, and both were over thirty, although pretty one was barely that. It was unfair how nicely men aged.

“Brothers?” I handed the identification cards back, secretly loving that it gave me the ability to satisfy my curiosity.

“That’s what our parents say,” twinkle-eyed Lucas beamed. “How are the cheese curds?”

Kole took the ID back, and the pad of his thumb brushed against my skin. Electricity crackled through me, leaving a chill skittering over me.

Oh, my lanta!What the hell was that?

“They’re delicious.” Unfortunately, my voice came out as a squeak. “Want some?”

“Absolutely.”

I scooted away, snatching the booklet and ignoring the peeved looks of the guests at table four, while gracing Abbi, one of the bartenders, a grateful smile for her help with the spilt root beer.

By the time I circled back with the drinks for the two-top, it was just Kole at the table. He was silent, staring into space across the table. But to think he wasn’t aware of me would be incredibly naïve. He tracked my movement as I hurried over.

Determined not to be intimidated by his good looks and strange energy, I flashed a winning smile. “So the beer for you, huh?”

His voice was rough. Ifeltit brush over me. “Yes, ma’am.”

I blinked. That was…hot. “Well, let me go grab the curds and then I’ll get you two something for dinner.”

Thankfully the beer didn’t slosh as I set it on the cocktail napkin.

“Did they tip you?” His abrupt question made me falter, my body stopping and twitching like a video tape stuck on rewind.

“Excuse me?” I clarified.

Those steady eyes watched me for a moment, before the man jerked his chin toward the vacated table four. “They were rude.”

They were. But…. “It’s my job. Part of the joys of table waiting. We’re understaffed tonight because of the weekend, and—”

The man leaned forward, grabbing my wrist. If it was static electricity before, itzappedme this time, making the hair on my arms stand on end. I sucked in a sharp breath. Through the sudden buzz in my brain, I noticed smaller details like the fact that his hands were large—very, very large—and they were rough. Working hands.Stronghands.

His voice was melted chocolate. “I’m sorry, Harley.”

My brain completely bypassed the fact that he was apologizing to me for the rudeness of the customers and focused solely on the fact that he knew my name.

How did he know my name?

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