Kickstart My Heart (Burgers and Brew Crue #1) - Lacey Black Page 0,42

and Lizzie sitting on the floor, both wearing princess tiaras and matching grins. Isaac looks to be wearing a sash, while Lizzie holds a wand.

Me: Wow, good thing she doesn’t have any princess makeup yet.

Isaac: I’d make that look good too.

Just as I giggle, I feel a presence behind me. I startle when two hands wrap around my hips and hold me steady. “Everything okay?” Walker whispers, his voice a gravelly, deep whisper.

“Fine,” I reply in somewhat of a squeak. “I was just checking on Lizzie and got this,” I say, holding my phone out so he can see the photo of his friend.

“I’m a little jealous right now,” he says, beaming at the image on the screen. He looks at it for a few more seconds before stepping back and glancing down at me.

“Jealous? Why?” I ask, slipping the phone into my apron.

“I’d be smiling like that too if I had a cute little princess sitting on my leg,” he says, swiping a wisp of hair from my cheek and placing it behind my ear.

“You enjoy playing princess and dress-up?” I ask, teasing.

He shrugs. “For the right woman,” he says with a wink.

I swallow over the lump in my throat. “I need to get back in there. We’re super busy, and I only wanted to take a quick second to check on Lizzie.”

“I saw you head off and thought I’d just check on you.”

I can’t help but grin. “Stalking me, are you, Meyer?”

Again, he shrugs and leans against the wall. “Protective, Sargant. Very protective.”

A shiver sweeps down my spine. Something tells me that’s a very accurate description. “Anyway,” I say, pointing over my shoulder to where I came from.

“Go.” He doesn’t move until I do, and I can feel his eyes on me.

I spend the next three hours hopping from table to table, running to the bar for drinks, and basically working harder than a normal lunch rush. Wow, there’s something to be said about an evening shift at Burgers and Brew.

Each time I text Isaac, he replies right away, assuring me they’re fine. At eight, he made sure she was in bed, having read two princess stories before lights out, and now, he says he’s working at the kitchen table on some stuff for the business.

At nine, the dining room starts to clear out, but some of them just move over to the bar. Duke pulls the rope across the doorway, separating the two large rooms. It ensures no one comes over from the bar side while we close down the restaurant. I go through my normal routine of stocking silverware and napkins and making sure the tables are cleared off. Duke puts the chairs on the tables, while the other server, Shannon, runs the noiseless vacuum.

My eyes are drawn to the bar, as the noise level carries over. Everyone is clearly having a good time, laughing and talking. I can’t see one seat left open, at the bar or the pub tables around the perimeter.

Suddenly, the entire room goes quiet. So quiet, it catches my attention and I wonder if something’s happened. The silence is replaced with the sound of a guitar, the music soft and seductive. My feet carry me toward the doorway, my eyes searching for the source. There, sitting on the small stage, is Jameson, strumming a guitar. I find myself completely pulled in, drawn to the melody like a moth to a flame. I lean against the doorway and just watch as he plays. It’s soothing, cathartic almost, and he hasn’t even opened his mouth yet.

I can feel eyes on me. When I look to my left, I find Walker behind the bar, his gaze the only one not cast toward the stage. No, his is on me. At first, I wonder if I’m in trouble. I’m supposed to be working, right? But here I am, caught up in Jameson’s smooth spell. Yet, I realize the intensity in his eyes has nothing to do with work and everything to do with desire. I can feel it burning, practically see the smolder of want from across the room. Honestly, it makes me a little uneasy. I’ve never had a man look at me the way Walker does, with such raw yearning and lust.

“He’s pretty good, huh?” Duke asks, coming up beside me.

“He is,” I reply, my gaze returning back to Jameson.

“He plays Friday and Saturday nights from nine to eleven. This place is always packed.”

Jameson starts singing, and my mouth falls open. This big,