Page 393 of One More Kiss

“I’m not known for my patience, Norris. But if you keep me company while I wait for Broken Vows to get their heads out of their asses, I might be willing to make an exception.”

A light laugh escapes me. “I think I can do that. Give me two minutes to make sure everyone is taken care of, then I’ll be back with your drink. What would you like?”

“Surprise me.”

It takes me a minute to fill everyone else’s orders before I set a short glass filled with two cubes of ice floating in amber liquid in front of him. “Order up.”

His gaze holds mine as he lifts the glass to his nose and sniffs softly. “Whiskey?”

“Top shelf. On the rocks. Seems like you’re a man with expensive taste.”

“And yet you offered to buy it for me.”

“Maybe,” I quip. “Depends if you still plan on sticking around or not.”

He smiles, making my stomach tighten. “Depends on if you’re gonna keep ignoring me or not.”

I laugh. “Ignoring you and working are two different things.”

“Toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe. So tell me, Sammie, do you treat all your customers with this much hospitality?”

“Well, it is my father’s bar, after all,” I point out.

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm,” I hum.

“Then I assume you know the band pretty well since they’re regulars.”

“Maybe.”

“Would you care to explain why Gibson Hayes is currently forcing that pretty waitress onto the stage?”

Brows pinched, I scan the buzzing crowd before finding Gibson guiding Dove, one of the waitresses and his total crush though he refuses to admit it, toward the stage.

“Um…” my voice trails off as I watch her stumble up the steps before giving the audience her back while facing the other two members of the band. They’re talking in hushed voices, though I have no idea what they’re saying, and I’m left lost and confused.

“Um?” he challenges.

Gibson, I’m gonna kill you for making me lie to this guy!

With a grimace, I turn back to Hawthorne and ask, “So, what’s your first name?”

The guy sees right through me and shakes his head. “Nice try, but I’m not gonna let you off the hook. Are you stalling for Gibson?”

Tucking my thumbs into the back pockets of my jean shorts, I rock back on my heels and shrug my shoulders. “I’m sorry. Stalling for who?”

“You’re cute, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you’re not stupid. Were you told to play me?”

I bite the inside of my cheek but stay quiet.

“Why is there a woman on stage instead of the lead singer, Fender Hayes?”

The beginning chords of one of their bigger songs echo throughout the room as the bassist, Stoker, begins strumming.

“Sammie,” he prods, his gaze still focused on me.

“Sh… It’s rude to talk during a performance.”

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