Page 34 of The Princess

Nash frowned and got in his car. Any other day, he might have turned around and gone home, but today he found himself driving over to the Bennett’s diner. He didn’t know why he hadn’t set up shop there before. Ethan wouldn’t mind. Other customers had been known to sit and drink coffee and work for hours on their laptops.

But other customers didn’t also show up on random Sundays for brunch, or at Ethan’s house for fire nights. Nash had worried about wearing out his welcome, he supposed.

At this time of day, the diner was surprisingly quiet. Nash walked in and took a seat at the family table. He was pulling his laptop out of the bag when Ethan appeared with a coffee pot.

“It’s good to see you, Nash. Looks like you brought your office with you.”

“I hope that’s okay,” he said, knowing it was. “The cafe I usually work at is closed for an emergency.”

“You are more than welcome to work here whenever you want.” Ethan filled a cup for Nash. “Did you want anything to eat?”

“I’d love a BLT, no mayo.”

“You got it,” Ethan said, going back behind the counter, then disappearing into the kitchen. Sometimes Nash wished the diner’s kitchen wasn’t closed off from the rest of the restaurant, but it was an old building and it had been that way for as long as the Bennetts had owned the business.

But maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t see Taylor from where he sat. Nash had the feeling he might spend too much time making eyes at him like Colby had been doing to Milo at the gym.

Nash opened his laptop and got to work. Ethan appeared with the sandwich a few minutes later and Nash thanked him politely before diving in, eating with one hand and typing—slowly—with the other.

He’d feared the diner might be too distracting, but it was almost like working at home. Sure, it was noisier, but Nash didn’t mind. He finished his meal and Ethan refilled his coffee, and it wasn’t until Taylor came out some time later that Nash finally looked up from his work.

Taylor dropped into the seat across from him with a plate of fries. “You can have some if you want. You’ve been here for hours.”

Nash looked at the time and realized that he had indeed been there for almost four hours, barely moving in that whole time. He made sure his work was saved before shutting his laptop.

“I didn’t mean that you had to stop working.”

“I know, but I didn’t expect to get as much done as I did.” Nash grabbed a fry off Taylor’s plate and crunched it. It was salty and hot and perfect, and Nash was suddenly starving. But for more than just the food. Taylor looked hot as hell, even sweaty from work. His cheeks were rosy from the heat of the kitchen, or maybe he was wearing makeup. Nash could never tell.

He clocked Ethan’s location and grabbed another fry. “You look incredible.”

“Oh, my God, shut up,” Taylor whispered, his blush deepening. “I’m disgusting from frying food all day.”

“Still hot.” Nash shrugged.

“You’re impossible.”

“I am. What are you doing later?”

“I have a few plants to water, but that doesn’t take long.”

“Only a few?”

“I used to do them all at once, but do you know how much time that takes?” Taylor laughed.

“How many plants do you have now?” Nash was almost afraid to ask.

“I don’t keep track anymore.”

“Anyway, if you’re free, we could do something later. Maybe a movie at my place. I’ll buy us dinner.”

“I don’t mind cooking.”

“I know you don’t, but maybe I want to do something nice for you.”

Taylor shoved a couple of fries in his mouth and nodded. “Fine,” he said eventually. “I’ll be there at seven.”

He got up from his seat and nudged the rest of the fries toward Nash. “I have to get back to the kitchen. Finish my fries for me. See you later.”

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