Hennessey's Handler (Protect and Serve #4) - Pandora Pine Page 0,16
dark wood and was shined to a high gloss. Only a few customers were inside. A couple looking at menus in a back booth and what looked like a regular at the bar. Hennessey was nowhere to be found.
I approached the bar. Taking my time to admire the ambiance, I couldn’t understand why Nate and I had never been in here before. I suppose it’s because I was a creature of habit. When we went to Mike’s, we sat at the same high-top table we were at the nights the Sox won all four games of their World Series championship. I ordered the same food. Wings and a Sam Addams on game days and steak tips with garlic mashed potatoes and a Bud when we went for dinner.
“See you next week, Chet!” a familiar voice called from the kitchen door. Hennessey turned to survey the bar. His eyes widened when he saw me standing there. “Hey, Morrison.” His lips quirked into an all-too-brief smile.
“I had an opening in my schedule and thought I’d stop in for lunch.” An opening in my schedule? Christ, I sounded like a snob, fitting Hennessey in.
“Would you like a table, booth, or a seat at the bar?” He grabbed a menu, but his blue eyes never met mine as he strode toward me.
“Whichever one gives us a place to talk.” I hadn’t meant to say that aloud but didn’t regret my words either.
“Why don’t we sit in the back booth?” Hennessey pointed to the one farthest from the bar. “Seth loves working out front. I’ll go grab him. In the meantime, here’s the menu.”
“Thanks. See you in a few.” When I took the menu, my thumb grazed his. My entire body tingled over the all-too-brief contact between us. Maybe it was my imagination. I brushed against men all the time and none of them made me feel electrified.
I couldn’t have cared less about what was on the menu. I just wanted Hennessey to touch me again. How ridiculous was that? I’d only known him for two days. I was touch-starved. There was no doubt about it, but Hennessey didn’t need to know that.
“Here we go.” Hennessey set two glasses of iced tea on the table. “This is new for the summer. Tell me what you think. If you don’t like it, I can bring you anything else you like.”
I sniffed the glass before taking a sip. “It smells tropical.” The first sip was heavenly. “Oh, this is good. Papaya?”
“Passion fruit,” Hennessey said with a grin. “I thought it was delicious, but sometimes it’s hard to gauge how customers will react.”
“It’s a winner. I’ll order it from now on.” I took another sip. It was the perfect blend of sweet and tart.
“Does that mean you’re going to be a repeat customer?” Hennessey’s blue eyes glittered as he spoke.
I laughed. If I hadn’t, I would have gotten lost in those azure depths. “That all depends on how good the fish tacos are.”
“They’re to die for. My personal favorite.” Hennessey was out of his seat and heading back toward the bar. He stopped along the way to greet a couple who’d just walked in before spending a few minutes with the man I’d seen day-drinking when I arrived.
Hennessey had a kind word for everyone he came in contact with. I supposed it was necessary to keep customers coming back for more. I had to admit, this side of the bar owner was very attractive. He’d been a bit of a pill the other day when his niece was missing, but after seeing him with Lola after she’d been found, I knew he’d just been anxious and worried.
While he was gone, I shifted my view toward the harbor. Several lobster boats were moored, their catches being offloaded. I’d never been out on a boat in my life. Sure, I’d been to the beach, but with my father owning the kennel and the animals needing constant care and attention, there hadn’t been a lot of time for leisure activities.
“Like what you see?” Hennessey asked. He was carrying two plates. He set one in front of me and kept the second for himself.
“Yes,” I said before understanding what he meant. Did I like the harbor and the boats? Yes. The killer lunch he’d set in front of me? Yes. Him? Also, yes. “I mean, I love the boats, and these fish tacos look amazing.”
“Do you fish?” Hennessey asked just as I was taking a bite of my taco.