Page 2 of Just a Distraction

I didn’t have a chance to grab the ring out of my work locker today, though, because I was late for my shift and Blaine had already started accosting me with texts before I’d arrived.

He even lit into me when I was in the kitchen grabbing some extra menus. He was so loud the customers probably heard him shouting.

He needs to just calm down. I’m always on time . . . well, almost always. And I’ve worked here for over a year, so that should count for something.

“You need another minute to look over the menu?” I ask my handsome customer.

“No, uh, I’m ready,” he says, before ordering the risotto with mushrooms and sardines.

Huh. I have to warn him. With the way our eyes keep meeting, I’ve already sort of been feeling like it’s him and me against the world. Or at least him and me against Blaine and the rest of Casa del Cibo.

“Is this your first time at Casa del Cibo’s?” I ask, taking the menu from him. I brush a strand of hair out of my face. I know he’s been in here before, but maybe he’s had the good sense not to order this particular dish.

“I’ve been here a few times.”

I step to him, bending closer as I lower my voice. “I’m just asking because the dish you ordered?” I hesitate, check over myshoulder, and then turn back to face him. I pull a face, crossing my eyes and sticking my tongue out the side of my mouth.

He snorts a laugh. “What should I have instead?”

“Do you trust me? Because I have something I think you’ll really, really like.”

“I trust you,” he says, a smile easing across his mouth. “Bring me your favorite.”

“Prepare to be amazed.” My gaze lingers.

And I don’t know. There’s something about his expression that’s so open that I do something I never do. I become the teensiest bit vulnerable with a customer.

“Can you keep a secret?” I ask. It comes out of me before I can stop it.

At his sweet, slow grin, I still, tossing another look behind me. I have two secrets begging to be released from me, but I’m not going to mention the fact that my chest area is bursting and if I don’t hurry and change out my breast pads, I’m going to have circular stains on the front of my work uniform.

So, I choose the slightly less embarrassing option. Not that there’s anything wrong with breastfeeding! It’s just that I’m not going to tell a complete stranger, the guy I’m serving, that I’m having trouble with my body.

“My boss has been bothering me for a long while and I’m cooking up a plan . . .”

His brows go sky high. “Is that who was yelling? Was he yelling at you?”

My face burns and I clamp my lips tight.

“I only heard when the door swung open for a second,” he assures me. “Look, if he’s harassing you, I’ll gladly give him a piece of my mind.”

Honestly, it could be considered harassment, but I can’t jump into that idea with this guy. “No. It’s not that extreme.” I laughhim off. I lower my voice and cup my hand beside my mouth. “I’m hoping to take a can of whipped cream to his ride out back.”

I regret it instantly. How unprofessional of me to admit something like that.

“That’s your plan?” His eyes narrow as his eyebrows knit together. “Whipped cream?”

I straighten. “I know. I shouldn’t—”

“No, I’m saying we can totally come up with a better plan. Come on, Rose.”

I absently fiddle with my nametag. I sort of like how my name sounds on his tongue. “You’re quite the fussy customer, aren’t you?”

I make a show of leaning nearer to him with my finger on the menu, pretending like we’re innocently discussing his order. “What’s a better plan than messing with his ride?” I whisper. “He would marry his ride if he could.”

“Maybe we should come at him with something more embarrassing.”

My smile bursts open. “Like what?”

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