“Oh yes,” I reply in a dreamy voice. “Yes, he is.Very.”
Laura clicks her tongue. “Sounds like my type.”
“I heard that,” Drew bellows from the kitchen at her back.
We both laugh, and I shake my head as I carry the dishes through the swinging doors. I love their heckling. When it comes to married couples, I consider them#goals.
In the back, I hand the dishes off to Jake, Laura and Drew’s nephew. He’s in his late teens and has been helping the couple out at the diner since he was tall enough to look over the counter.
Laura and Drew don’t have any kids of their own. The two met when he was hired as the new cook way back in theday, then they took over the family business together after Laura’s father passed away ten years ago.
“So… a date, huh?” Jake prompts with a nod, his chest puffed like he’s trying to make himself appear bigger.
It doesn’t work. He’s a scrawny kid, despite matching my height.
“Yep.” I avert his eyes, wiping my hands on my apron.
“That’s cool.” He shrugs and puts the dishes into the huge sink, trying to act casual, but I see the disappointment behind his demeanor.
I mean, he’s cute, but a good ten years too young for me.
“Then you better not keep him waiting, girl,” Laura urges me on. “A good guy is hard to find.”
“True that. You might’ve snatched up the last one,” I call back, winking at Drew.
His head does a little bob, and I catch a bashful smile stretching his lips as he turns to clean the grill.
I pull my apron over my head and hang it on the hook in the kitchen before I clock out.
When I slip through the back door, my heart gives a jolt. Asher is waiting for me across the alley, one foot braced against the wall, thumbs hooked into his pocket. Shadows tease over his dark tattoos where the ink is not covered by his T-shirt.
Hot indeed.
His hair is tousled again, and I have the urge to run my fingers through it.
His teeth tug on his bottom lip as his gaze drinks me in from top to bottom. I think the feeling is mutual. I noticethe flexing of his bare forearms like he’s itching to touch me too.
He told me he works at a custom auto body shop, so I already know he’s good with his hands.
My skin flushes with the thought of them exploring me. “Hi,” I say, my voice a little breathless.
He drops his foot to the ground and meets me as I descend the two steps toward him. “Hi.”
The light above the door gives his green eyes a luster, and my knees go weak. He’s so gorgeous I can’t stop staring.
“How was your night?” he asks, breaking me from his spell.
I blink. My eyes flick to the graphic tee stretching across his well-defined chest. He’s lean, not bulky, but I don’t underestimate the strength and endurance weaved into every cell of his body.
“Good,” I reply. “Busy. Makes the time go by faster.”Because I’ve been looking forward to seeing you,I add in my head. “How was yours?”
His face has a few days’ worth of a shadow now, giving the impression he only shaves every other. “Eh, work was alright.”
He pivots down the alley, and I fall in beside him. I don’t even look over my shoulder for my stalker. His presence calms me.
“Put a new engine into this sweet ’54 Chevy Pickup,” he says as we start walking. “It had a badass paint job, too.”
That familiar quirky grin twists his features, and I can tell by his inflection how much he loves what he does.