Page 6 of Adrift

“Ahem.” He clears his throat as his dark, stormy green eyes catch mine.

Shit. I’m supposed to be serving him.

“Um. Hiya. Can I get you anything?” I manage to stutter.

Thank fuck I’m too flustered to add, the way I usually would,Anything you want. Anything at all.

“A table?”

His voice is warm, deep, smooth as honey on my ears. He’s got an accent like he’s from around here, but I’ve never seen him before. I know for a fact I’d remember.

Ohhh, fuck.

This guy spells trouble. And I do love getting myself into trouble. Or should I say, getting trouble into me?

“Yeah. A table. Sure. Anywhere you like,” I tell him with a bright smile. He picks a table by the window, but within easy eyeshot of the bar.

Phew. No pretending to wipe down tables to spy on him.

He tosses a thin notepad and a thick yellow envelope onto the table, pulling out the chair to arrange all his limbs into it. It looks kind of ridiculous, “And lunch, if it’s going?”

“I’ll grab you a menu?—”

“No need,” he tells me, just as I’m coming around the end of the bar, menu in hand. “I’m here for the fish and chips.” Then he pauses and looks at me, his brow furrowing even deeper. “If you have it.”

I shouldn’t say it, but that’s never stopped me before.

“Don’t worry. If we don’t have fish, I’ll get my rod out,” I tell him, popping a hip as I lean against the side of the bar.

His brow creeps up. He’s not exactly smiling at me, but the downward curve of his scowl is gone. “Talk about service with a smile.”

“The potatoes might take longer,” I tell him. I’m giving him an easy opening, so I brace myself for the Irish joke… but it doesn’t come.

He just gives me a crooked smile that makes him look devilishly handsome.

He’s the strong, silent type. Of course. I needed more reasons to be wildly distracted.

“Anything to drink?”

“Orange soda would be great.”

He doesn’t look away from me. He’s smiling slightly, like he knows everything I’m thinking, and it’s only making me more flustered.

After I serve his lunch, I retreat behind the bar and hunch over my phone.

Who the hellisthis guy?

It’s time to consult the Sunrise Island whisper network.

Chapter

Three

KIERAN

31 unread messages on WhatsApp?I might be in luck.

I start by tapping on the Social Committee message thread. These sweet, mischievous older ladies—and my friend Felix—always know what’s up.

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