Page 94 of Voyeur Café

“Heels may have been a poor choice,” I say, brushing my hands over the ruffled hem of my short dress and assessing my look in my office mirror. I look hot as fuck in tan, chunky heels and a fitted yellow cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline, but I’m about to be on my feet behind a bar for eight to ten hours.

Luke stands behind me, hands coming around my waist. “I do like how easy it is to kiss you when you’re up here,” he says, dropping a soft kiss on my lips. “But I put a pair of your Vans in the truck, in case you change your mind.”

“I knew I liked you,” I smile up at him. He’s dressed up too, in his own way. His hair is combed back, beard freshly trimmed, and he has on dark wash jeans, and a dark gray button up shirt. He still smells like steel and soap, though—just the way I likehim.

Devon opens the office door, statuesque in a navy column dress, nude matte lip, and platinum hair smoothed back into a low bun. Her brows are defined in their usual dark espresso color, as if to say,Yeah, I bleach my hair. Mind your business. “You two planning to make an appearance?”

“We still have three minutes,” Luke says. “You can trust me to get her out there on time.”

“Huh.” Devon’s blue eyes turn thoughtful for a flash of a second as she tilts her head to the side. “I do trust you. Didn’t see that coming.” And then her face is back to its usual mix of RBF and otherworldly beauty, and she’s on her way back out my office door.

“You know, Lucas Pine, I’m really happy you came to Palm Springs and stole my dream, because now I’m living a new one with you, and it’s better than I could have imagined.”

“I love you,” he whispers in my ear.

“I love you too,” I whisper back.

Then he pinches my ass cheek. “But I can’t let you be late. Let’s get out there.”

He follows me, and we take up a place behind the bar, the place already filling with friends and family.

Marisol is here with all three of her kids. I promoted her toTurbine’s GM. First, because she deserved it, and second, because Luke insisted I loosen the reins a bit saying, “No one needs Allie Walker working twenty hours a day, every day.”Whatever.We even hired two more baristas, so I don’t have to open anymore. Although, I’ll miss my not-so-solo morning dance parties.

Daisy is in her usual spot, wearing a dress the exact shade of her pink hair, and she has a handsome older gentleman on her arm she’s never brought in before. We share a conspiratorialsmile.

Bea’s sitting at the bar, wearing an orange striped dress that has to be vintage, more jewelry than I could pull off, and sipping on a honey whiskey cocktail from Luke’s custom menu. Turns out, he knows what the fuck he’s doing behind a bar, and those flexing forearms look just as good with a drink shaker as they do with a wrench.

Bea, Devon, and Skye have been here every day this week after hustling to pull the design together to turnTurbine’s space intoVoyeur Caféin record time. Devon even let me pay her for once, saying that Luke doesn’t get the best friend discount.Yet.

Hector and Brian sit on the barstools closest to Luke and me, both looking extra dapper for the occasion.

“Can I get a Cookie Explosion?” Hector asks, teasingly ordering the coffee drink I hate and will never escape.

“Absolutely not.” My hands go to my hips, emphasizing my authority. “The blenders are busy making margaritas. Would you like one of those?”

Brian holds up the cocktail menu, adjusting his black-framed glasses as he studies each drink intensely.

“He’s picking out the only thing he’ll ever order here, so don’t rush him.” Hector pats Brian on the shoulder.

“I appreciate a man who knows what he likes,” Luke says.

I roll my eyes. “One of these days, I’ll get you away from black coffee.”

“I drink Americanos now. It’s an entirely different experience,” He scoffs.

Cam drapes himself casually into the seat next to Hector, spinning the stool around backwards so he can rest his arm and chest on the backrest. “I want one of those Cookie Explosion things, too. That sounded good.”

Luke puts a draught beer down in front of him. “You’ll drinkthis.”

“Sure, but I’m having a Cookie Explosion for breakfast.”

“Fine by me. I won’t be here,” I laugh, shifting my weight between my feet.

“You want me to get your Vans?” Luke whispers in my ear.

“Not yet.” I smile up at him.

Cam pauses the swiveling of his barstool, staring slack-jawed at the front door. “Which one of your friends has pink hair?”

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