Page 58 of That Kind of Guy

Emmett gestured at himself. “I’m a customer, and I want you to take a break, sit down, and eat lunch with us.”

Holden nodded. “Join us, Avery. I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you yet.” He paused, thinking. “Congratulations.”

I smiled at him. “Thanks, Holden.” A man of few words and absolutely no pretense. If only Emmett could be more like him. I would never,everadmit this out loud, but I actually thought Emmett was a bit better looking than Holden. Holden was a big guy, tall and broad. Emmett was a bit slimmer, still tall but he had a swimmer’s body, all long, lean muscle. Long, lean muscle that looked pretty good in a white t-shirt. Too bad his insides didn’t match his outsides. Holden had him there.

“Why can’t you be more like Holden?” I asked Emmett, gesturing to his brother. “Men should be seen and not heard.” My gaze snagged on where his t-shirt stretched across this shoulders.

The corner of Holden’s mouth kicked up. Emmett stretched out in his chair, taking up as much space as he could. He cocked an eyebrow at me with a little smile on his face. “Yeah? And do you like what you see, Adams?”

My face heated. I did, and he knew I did, and somehow, that made it worse.

Something in my expression made Emmett laugh, and he dropped the teasing tone. “Sit with us and have lunch.”

“Avery, take a break,” Max urged me, behind me. “I can take the bar.”

It was three against one, and my stomach was rumbling with hunger, so I dropped the notepad and pen on the counter, and walked around the other side.

Max pulled a pen and paper out of his apron. “Alright, lunch orders.”

“Go ahead.” Emmett placed his hand on my arm and I ignored the spike of awareness at the contact.

“Salmon burger, please.” My voice was tight.

“Holden?” Emmett asked.

“Roast beef sandwich.” He nodded once at Max. “Thank you.”

Max looked up with his pen poised. “Fries on the side?”

“Yes—"

“He’ll have a salad on the side.” Emmett glanced at Holden with a raised eyebrow. “You don’t eat enough vegetables, and the salads are really good here.”

Max looked to Holden, who rolled his eyes and grunted an acknowledgment.

“And I’ll have the salmon burger with a side salad,” Emmett told Max with a smile. “Thanks, Max.”

“Thanks, Max,” I called after him as he dropped the orders off with the kitchen. “Do you always order for your brother?” I asked Emmett.

Holden stood suddenly, his phone buzzing. “Be right back.”

Emmett watched Holden walk out the front door with his phone to his ear. “I didn’t order for him, I made a few adjustments.” He turned toward me, letting his gaze rake over my face.

My mouth hitched up. “Right. Adjustments.”

“The guy barely cooks for himself, and when he does, it’s something sad like Mr. Noodle.”

My mouth fell open. “Hey, what’s wrong with Mr. Noodle?”

He gave me a look. “Do not tell anyone you eat Mr. Noodle or our whole cover will be blown. No one would believe I’d marry a woman who ate Mr. Noodle.”

A laugh bubbled out of me just as the door opened and a familiar nasally voice cut through my thoughts.

“Max,” Chuck called, snapping his fingers to get Max’s attention, who was currently taking a customer’s order at another table. “Get me a club sandwich to go, extra mayo.”

Max grimaced and held up a finger to Chuck to signal he’d be there in a moment.

Chuck looked over to me and raised his hands. “Hello? Can I get some service over here? Jeeze.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

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