Page 14 of Heart Stopping
It seemed he'd made up his mind. I had to respect that. I liked people who were decisive. Usually.
"Right." I backed up a couple of steps before turning and heading back into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, I put together a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs and gestured for Gina to take it over to Cass for me.
"You don't want to keep talking to him yourself?" she teased.
"It's getting busier," I said, which was the truth. Another two tables looked ready to order and a couple more people came in through the door.
“Okay, chef." She gave me a wink and carried the food over to Cass, her hips swinging while she walked.
I busied myself preparing meals as they came in, and carefully didn't watch him eat.
CHAPTER 6
HARLOW
"That was amazing." Cass stood beside his table, his book held against his chest, hair fallen over one eye as usual. He didn't seem to notice. If I didn't know better, I'd think he just got out of bed. He had that tousled look, wild and careless.
Gina and Erin both hurried around, packing up tables and taking dishes into the kitchen. Both pretending they weren't listening.
Both were listening.
"Yeah?" I placed his empty glass in the bowl, holding them carefully.
If there was something I disliked, it was dishes broken unnecessarily. It happened. Occupational hazard. I didn't want to be the one doing the breaking. Not when the replacement was coming out of my pocket.
"Yeah," he echoed. "It got so busy in here, but you didn't look like you broke a sweat."
Right, it was about me, not the meatballs. I should be relieved. It wasn’t about the milkshake either. Shame, it was a particularly good milkshake, if I said so myself.
"I've had lots of practice," I said modestly. "You should see it here on a Saturday night."
"Is that an invitation?" he asked. "Do I need to make a reservation?"
He looked eager, like a puppy responding to a hint of cheese. Waiting and hoping to find some tossed his way. Ready to gobble it down in half a second flat and beg for more.
"No, and no," I said, frowning. "I mean, you can eat here if you want. We usually have a table or two spare if you're here early."
I spoke without thinking, blunt as ever. New Yorker, born and bred. It was who I was. I wasn't going to apologize for it, but sometimes I made myself cringe. For a moment.
Especially now, when he looked like I poked my toe into the side of his puppy. For the record, I'd never hurt an animal. I'd even been known to feed the ducks in Central Park once in a while. Proof I wasn't completely jaded, right?
"I'll make sure you get some garlic bread," I added, without knowing why.
I usually wasn't inclined to soothe a guy's ego, but Cass seemed genuinely nice. I wasn't used to genuinely nice. That had to be it. He had me on the wrong foot. Speaking without thinking. I'd have to watch myself around him. A guy like this could bring down carefully constructed walls if I let him.
In fact, he seemed like the kind of guy who would drag over a ladder, set it up against those walls and climb right on over. Maybe hide behind them with me. Maybe take them down from the inside.
I couldn't let any of that happen.
He perked up.
"I love garlic bread." He hesitated, glancing down at the floor. Without looking up, he cleared his throat and said, "When I was in college, I might have gone into restaurants for the free garlic bread and then bolted. I was kinda…broke."
He looked regretful now, like he might march into every last of them and offer to pay a couple of dollars for bread. I had a feeling he'd do it too. He'd get some funny looks if he tried. Bread was my loss-leader, the smell bringing in customers to buy more food.
If I relied on it alone to pay the rent, I'd go broke in a day.
"You and plenty of other college students," I said.
