Page 65 of Banter & Blushes

“Cash okay?” The man’s voice jolts me back to reality.

“Yes, sir.” I take his money and deal out the change. “Thank you.”

Colt pushes the cups across the counter. Another guy grabs them.

“Thanks.” The first guy nods, and they scoot along the sand.

“You did good,” I say to Colt once they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah?”

I smile. “You’re naturally friendlier than Genesis.”

“Oh yeah, the girl working in here yesterday.”

“Yes. My friend and only employee.”

“Is that your way of saying you’re not paying me for today?” He twists his mouth in a playful way I find endearing.

“How about free food at the video set?”

He laughs. “All the food there is free.”

“Maybe for you. But somebody better be paying me.” I shake my head.

Colt leans closer to me, making my cheeks flush. “There’s no such thing as a free meal.”

“True,” I whisper.

His lips lift, showcasing his perfect smile. My stomach flips, and I blame it on smelling bacon for well over an hour without eating any.

Deep down, I know it’s not the bacon.

Colt is back, and despite how much has changed and how much time has passed, we’re now flirting. It’s silly of me to even consider starting something with a guy who travels for a living, especially one on the verge of fame. If it were any other guy, the warnings would keep me at bay.

But the same way some people swim in high tides, I choose to ignore the red flags flying when it comes to Colt Harrison.

Or should I say Colt Stallion.

More customers come and go, none of them seeming to recognize him. That’s a good thing, I’m sure, since he never was one for the limelight. He always joked around and sang for us, but never liked being up on stage.

When we’re closing up, I decide to ask him. “How is it getting to live out your dream?”

“You tell me, Chef.”

I blush. “I like it. Now your turn.”

“It has its ups and downs. Putting out my own music is more fun, but scary.”

“How so?” I think I know what he’ll say, but don’t want to put words in his mouth.

“When you do a concert, everyone stares at the lead singer. I don’t know if I’m ready for everyone to stare at me.”

“I’ve heard other singers say they look above the crowd and pretend they’re somewhere else when they’re performing. You need to find what makes you comfortable.”

He focuses on my face for a long while. So long that if we were closer, I’d swear he was going to kiss me. After what seems like forever, he speaks.

“I like that idea.”

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