Page 67 of Third Time Lucky

I glance at him, watching his grin widen, becoming almost ridiculous, and realize he’s messing with me. With a burst of laughter, I play along with his game.

I nudge him with my elbow. ‘Wow, Mr Popular! Can’t blame a girl, though; who could possibly resist your charming personality and incredibly addictive cooking skills?’

He lifts a single eyebrow.

‘Or perhaps she’s fallen for your handsome face?’

His gaze is tied to mine, and his face holds a captivating heat, like embers waiting to burst into flames, which adds a dangerous allure to his already striking features. There is no doubt we’ve crossed into ‘I like you and you like me, let’s flirt,’ phase of this new old friendship.

‘Flattery will get you everywhere,’ he teases, winking at me.

‘Is that so?’ My words dance like a butterfly, teasing and light.

Flirting with Ash feels right, amazing even. But deep inside there’s a voice screaming,what are ya doing?!Here I am, partially still brokenhearted, on a man ban, fighting off memories of my past yet succumbing to his charm so effortlessly.

We’re silent as we load the groceries into his car. As we drive back to Mitzi’s, a Sirius Radio station plays softly in the background, but my mind is on our flirtatious grocery trip. Perhaps, I should change the subject to lift the tricky fog surrounding us.

‘Um— I’ve been considering your menu design and had a few questions,’ I mention.

He side-eyes me, flashing a slight smile. ‘Ask me anything,’ he says, before returning his focus to the road ahead.

‘What type of restaurant will it be?’

His eyes glint with excitement. He really loves his job, and it shows. ‘Fusion meets comfort,’ he says. ‘I like melding different flavors together to create something entirely unique.’

I nod in agreement. ‘And you do it well. Will there be a bar?’

‘Yes, but with custom drinks. We won’t be serving something you can grab anywhere.’

‘If someone falls in love with a specialty cocktail, they’ll keep coming back. I’ve done that myself. Genius.’

And it’s true – those irresistible bourbon balls always manage to find their way into my life.

‘Will it be an all-day-service restaurant or dinner only?’

‘Five to midnight. Dinner, desserts, drinks.’

‘Dress code?’

‘No shoes, no shirt, no service,’ he jokes, cracking a smile my way.

‘Funny.’

‘Seriously, upscale casual.’

‘OK… dinner party attire. Nice. Music vibe?’

He tilts his head to the side, pondering my question. ‘Nothing too loud but enough to set the mood. Maybe something upbeat and happy? I’d want to make everyone feel welcome, so a mix of genres and songs from different years might be wise. I dunno; I’m picturing a lively atmosphere with diners chatting and enjoying themselves without a care in the world. Does that make sense?’

‘It sounds absolutely lovely. I would love for the menu to reflect that vision.’

‘Do you want to see the place?’ he offers.

‘Your restaurant?’

He nods. ‘We’re one exit away. I usually stop by once a week to check out the progress. It could be fun to get an outside perspective.’

‘Yes,’ I reply with a smile I can’t contain. ‘I would love to see it.’

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