#HairyGoats

For several nights, Colbie slept better than she had in . . . well, forever actually. And not just because in the deep, late, quiet hours between midnight and daybreak, Spence always came to her after he was done working, sliding into her bed, pulling her into his strong, warm arms.

That’s when all her problems faded away, replaced by an erotic, sensual hunger and desire for him such as she’d never known.

She always woke up alone, with a smile on her face. She had no idea why he never stayed. Maybe actually sleeping with her was one step too intimate for him. Maybe she snored.

Maybe it was just sex.

She told herself she didn’t care, that he was still the best, most exciting thing that’d ever happened to her.

One morning almost two weeks into her stay, she sat all bundled up on one of the benches in front of the fountain and wrote.

And wrote.

She was painfully aware that the book she was writing wasn’t the next book in her Storm Fever series.

It was something entirely different. But she loved it.

She also knew that Jackson would have a fit. On top of wanting her out there in public supporting the movie in a very visible way, he also wanted her to do what her publisher wished and expand her series.

Problem was, she didn’t want any of that.

She’d closed up the series in her head and her brain just wouldn’t go there. So she let her writing take her where it wanted to go, and she was completely lost in the world when someone plopped down beside her.

“Longest day ever,” Kylie said and slumped on the bench, tilting her head against the wrought-iron to stare up at the sky. “Today alone I messed up a table I’d been working on for four months, said no to a date with a hot customer, and ate my boss’s stash of candy bars. I think I’m going to hell.”

“Why did you say no to the hot customer?”

“Because he’s married.”

“Then you’re not going to hell,” Colbie said.

“But the candy bars —”

“Hey, you did your boss a favor, saved him from getting fat.”

“The top button on my jeans won’t close.” Kylie groaned and closed her eyes. “But thanks. You’re sweet. Got anything for me on the table I messed up?”

“Nothing other than it sucks big-time.”

“Yeah.” Kylie opened her eyes and sat up. “All this crappiness has got me starving. I need sustenance.”

“Did I hear someone mention food?” a twenty-something woman in a white lab coat asked, stopping at their bench.

“This is Haley,” Kylie told Colbie. “She’s an optometrist on the second floor. She’s the one responsible for Spence’s hot geeky glasses, and also for being the voice of calm reason in our group.”

“We’re going for food,” she told Haley. “Coming?”

“Can’t. I’ve got patients waiting. Have some wings for me, would ya?”

“Will do.” Kylie stood and pulled Colbie off the bench, tugging her toward the pub. “Chicken wings. Life won’t be complete until I inhale a platter of Finn’s chicken wings.”

The pub was packed and Finn was pulling out his hair. “Down a waitress,” he called to them. “I’ll get to you soon as I can.”

Colbie watched him and Sean struggle to keep up with the crowd by themselves and stood up.

“What are you doing?” Kylie asked.

“I can’t watch.”

“I can.” Kylie took in Sean bending to pick up a pallet of clean glasses, the muscles of his shoulders and back bunching beneath his T-shirt, not to mention his jeans going taut over a first-class ass.

Colbie waved Finn down, and he came over, looking distracted.

“Let me help you,” she said. She slid behind the bar and pulled on an apron. “I’ve waitressed before.”

Gratitude and worry warred on his face. “Are you sure—”

“Yep. Now go cook . . . whatever it is you’re cooking.” And she hit the tables. Delivering the drinks turned out to be easy. It was remembering to check if the food orders were ready that was a problem. Mostly this was because she found herself busy eavesdropping on conversations, fascinated by the slices of life she heard.

“. . . And so he admitted he had an extra testicle . . .”

“. . . Apparently, doing the boss’s boss is the only way to the top . . .”

“. . . Remember that time we took out the wrong colon?”

Colbie kept stopping to write down notes for herself so she wouldn’t forget anything. Problem was, she was using her order pad and stuffing the notes into her pockets and getting them mixed up with actual orders.

“Hey,” Finn called when she dropped off two new orders in the kitchen. “What’s this?”

“Um . . . two orders of sweet potato fries?” she asked.

“No, it says ‘extra testicle.’ ” He looked up at her, brows raised.

Horrified, Colbie snatched back the note and stuffed it into her pocket while pulling out her other notes to try to find the missing order. A cascade of slips fell from her pocket. “Hairy goats!”

Finn stared at her. The entire kitchen staff stared at her.

And then they all burst out laughing.

“Tell me the truth,” Finn said, grinning. “You’ve never been a waitress a day in your life, have you?”

“Hey, I was so a waitress!” She sighed. “For a while. Before I got fired . . .” She turned to get back out there and came face-to-face with Elle.

Who stood there looking killer in an ice blue dress that outlined her very outline-able curves.

Spence came in behind her and flashed a grin at Colbie. “Waitressing?”

“Helping out Sean and Finn.” She grimaced. “And not doing a really great job of it.”

“Are you kidding?” Sean asked. “You’ve been more entertaining than anything we’ve seen all season. You’re great,” he said, giving her a onearmed hug before moving out to the bar.

“Hey,” Finn called out from behind the grill, waving another order. “Who’s doing the boss’s boss? Is that code for something actually on our menu?”

Colbie grimaced again, snatched the paper back, and headed to the tables. She served Spence and Elle and Kylie, and afterward, when she’d cleared their dishes, Spence stood up and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He tugged her in and gave her a goodbye kiss so hot that she nearly self-combusted on the spot, and while she was trying to remember her name, he walked off, but not before leaving her a tip.

A huge tip.

This gave her a flash of something she hadn’t seen coming—guilt. He’d left her so much cash because he thought she needed the money. Which reminded her that while they’d grown closer over the past two weeks, very close, she’d left out a big piece of herself by not telling him who she was.

But the truth was she’d not intended to tell him. This had started out as a diversion, on both their parts, so it hadn’t been necessary.

But it’d become more for her, much more, and suddenly, she wanted him to know. “Spence?”

He turned and met her gaze.

“Dinner tonight?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll come get you at seven.”

“No, I’ll come get you,” she said. “It’s my turn to cook.”

His mouth curved and the smile was in his voice as well. “I’ll be ready.”

When she was done pitching in, Finn and Sean handed her an envelope of cash.

“Wow,” Colbie said, counting through it. “Can I come work here every day?”

“Hell yeah,” Sean said.

“I’m sorry but hell no,” Finn said. “You’re great to look at and my customers loved you, but please, God, don’t come back to work tomorrow.”