Page 82 of Falling for Grace

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I just don’t want to talk about Brandon,” I say honestly.

“Do you want another drink?”

I look at my watch: it’s almost seven. In response my stomach rumbles.

“I’m kinda hungry. Wanna go grab some food?”

Chapter 30

We end up in another bar that serves steak and burgers. Which is perfect because I could eat my weight in cow about now. Ben is sitting across from me, and he has the most adorable frown line as he’s reading his menu.

“Can’t decide?” I ask.

“No. I sometimes wish they just did three dishes, and then indecisive people like me could pick a meal.”

I laugh and look back at my menu just as the waitress comes over.

“Hi, I’m Sarah, and I’m going to be your server for the evening. Can I get you some drinks?”

“Can we get a pitcher of beer?” Ben asks.

I am going to need to be rolled out of here at this rate.

“Certainly.”

“I think we’re ready to order,” I add, and Sarah looks down at me smiling politely, her blonde hair scraped back, she had a girl next door vibe about her, that’s until I caught how tight her white shirt was, the buttons straining across her chest to keep the girls at bay. Her attention quickly turning back to Ben, her eyes lighting up. Sarah, it would seem, is appreciating the goodness that is Ben.

“I would like,” I pipe up, forcing Sarah to turn back to me, “to have the fillet steak, medium rare, with sweet potato fries.” Sarah jots it down and then swings back to Ben, who is entirely oblivious to Sarah and her blatant swooning. I mean, seriously, this woman is eye-fucking him on an epic scale.

“Can I get…” Ben pauses.

“I can come back, sir,” Sarah suggests, smiling at Ben as he makes eye contact. Oh, Christ, seriously? Just pick some food. I can see his eyes moving around the menu again, and my stomach grumbles so loudly I’m surprised he didn’t hear it.

“He’ll have the rib eye,” I say, and Ben raises his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, but I’m starving.”

He laughs and folds his menu.

“You heard the lady, I’ll have the rib eye. Oh, and some sweet potato fries, they look good.”

Sarah nods and lingers a little longer than entirely necessary, but eventually she leaves and I get the giggles.

“All right there, chuckles?” he asks, amused.

“She so clearly fancied you,” I say, wiping my eyes.

“She did not.” He folds his arms over his chest, pretending to sulk. My eyes move to the bulge of his bicep and back up to his protruding lip.

“Wanna put your money where your mouth is?” I ask, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table. He does the same.

“I feel like someone is getting cocky because she’s had a few beers,” he says, attempting to look serious, but there is sparkle behind his eyes.

“I have had three beers, and I’m not cocky, I’m confident.”

“What’s it worth?”

“Dinner.”

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