Page 84 of Delicious Surrender
Brynne wished she had more time to enjoy the tranquility of the cottage. The last few months had been frenetic, and she was glad to be off the treadmill. Unfortunately, it made her realize she was bone weary and adrift at sea without a rudder. Friday came too damn fast, and she was due at the restaurant in less than two hours.
The place was cozy and casual, with sage green walls and dark wood tables. The bar lined one end, a stage for live music at the other. Myrna showed her around and explained how the POS system worked.
“Our slang is the hardest thing to learn. It can be a wee bit hard to hear when the music is blaring. Cook will do a couple of specials for lunch and dinner, and you’ll get used to it in notime.”
The kitchen staff was friendly, and Brynne was secretly relieved to be around regular folks. They were not likely to get any stuck-up billionaires demanding forty-year-old whisky. She looked forward to brushing up her bartending skills on Monday night.
Two men came in after the lunch crowd had thinned. One of them was too handsome for his own good. He had a full beard and wore his blonde hair tied back in a man bun. She never thought that look was sexy—until now. He was a cross between a sun-kissed surfer and a biker fromSons of Anarchy.
Myrna went over and took their order while Brynne finished clearing dishes. Soon after, Myrna announced she had put thecoinneach’sfish and chips order in and she was going to take her break. At Brynne’s questioning look, she said, “It’s Gaelic for cute hunks.” Myrna winked conspiratorially.
The cook’s bell signaled their food order was up. Up close, surfer boy had a deep tan that showed off his baby blues, and those superhero muscles were hard to miss.
“Is there anything else I can get you, gentlemen?”
The dark-haired man shook his head and started popping chips into his mouth. The blond turned his gaze on her. “You must be new around here, Red?”
She froze. When she finally spoke, her voice had a serrated edge. “Yes, I am new around here. And my name is not Red.”
She could tell her hostile reaction surprised him. Undaunted, he asked, “Well, sweetheart, tell me your name, so I know what to call you?”
Right, she didn’t have a name tag yet. She didn’t want anyone to connect her to the article. “Bree. My name is Bree.”
He took his time studying her. “Nice to meet you, Bree. I’m Logan, and this is Fergus.” He winked. “I’d like another Caledonian, please.”
She nodded and hurried to the bar, berating herself on the way. His name was Logan. Knowing her luck, he was probablythatLogan. How many hot handymen could there be in this small town?
She delivered the beer and pasted on a smile. “Are you Logan Mitchell, by chance?”
“The one and only.” He grinned, clearly pleased to be recognized.
“Declan referred you to me—you agreed to come and look at my pipes tomorrow.”
His friend Fergus made a strangled sound. The man’s face was beet red, and she thought he was choking, so she pounded his back until he raised his hands in surrender. She didn’t get the joke until she looked at Logan, who was desperately trying not to laugh.
He tried to look serious and failed. “I’ll be over to inspect the, um, pipes.”
They couldn’t stop laughing. She shook her head and walked away in disgust.
Myrna returned and asked what had her so flustered. “Those two infantile twats are laughing at my expense.”
She made a tsking sound. “My dear lass, that one is as cuteas a dumplin’ in a hankie. If I were your age, I’d be wheedling and fawning for his favor. He’s single, built nice and burly, and they say he’s quite a braw lover.”
“They say that, do they?” Brynne made an unladylike sound. “I don’t go for pretty boys. Besides, my last relationship recently came to a screeching halt, so I’m not interested in sampling the town’s tastiest tomcat with a tool belt.”
Myrna burst out laughing. “We’ll see how you feel in a few months when the weather is dreich and you’re needing something warm and muscley in your bed!”
Brynne tried not to laugh but couldn’t stop herself. She would get on well with Myrna. She reminded her of Aunt Josie.
Myrna collected their payment, and when they got to the door, they waved and blew kisses to them both. The flirting gave her a fleeting lift, but the reality of going home alone to the cottage brought her back down with a depressing thud. She never minded being on her own—she was used to it from an early age. It was more the absence ofhim. She missed the angst-ridden anticipation she felt before seeing Gage, the excitement of their furtive attraction, and the thrill of playing with danger. She’d fallen unwittingly into his thrall.
Declan came in as they were setting up for dinner. He reminded her to order a meal from the kitchen to take home. She agreed to work again tomorrow for karaoke night, which was always wildly busy. She gave him a hug and thanked him for looking out for her, staving off the stupid tears that threatened to spill.
Before she left, she asked him to make her name tag Bree, not Brynne. “New name, new hairdo, and new beginning.”
“Right! We’ll see you tomorrow, Bree.” He winked.
Brynne stopped at the market for a bottle of wine to go with her takeout spaghetti. She came out with two bottles of wine, a bottle of Glayva liqueur, one apple crumble, and a can of whipped cream. At this rate, she would find all the pounds she lost last week. She scoffed at her reflection in the rear view mirror. “Do you give a flying fuck? Nope! ’Cause nobody’s going to see you naked!” She put the car in gear and headed home in a dark mood.