The Runaway (Barrett Boys #1) - Jordan Ford Page 0,12
eyes at Franks and sounding like a teen groupie. “Oh my gosh, he’s so cute.”
“Right?” Franks laughs. “You go get ’im, Annie Bird. Get your flirt on.”
“I’m not flirtin’ with him.” I pull my shoulders back, grappling for a little dignity, but it seems to have gone into hiding, because a high-pitched giggle pops out of me. I bite my bottom lip to stop it, my cheeks catching on fire.
Franks laughs again and pats my butt. “Go on now. He needs some cute waitress to show him to a table.”
Another one of those ridiculous giggles pops out of me before I can catch it. Billy rolls his eyes, helping me back down to earth. I clear my throat and turn toward Mr. Drool-Worthy, trying to think casual as I make my way over to him.
“More flirt!” Franks calls behind me. “Work those hips, girl!”
I whip around and mouth for her to shut up. Billy starts laughing and nibbles her cheek, which distracts her long enough for me to approach the guy without getting unhelpfully cheered on by my best friend.
“Hey.” The word comes out as a whisper and I clear my throat, wishing I could slap myself up the side of my head.
Pull it together, Annie!
“Table for one?”
“Yes, please.” His voice is soft, his gentle, deep-set gaze making me smile.
“Right this way.”
I lead him to the end booth, figuring it’s better than eating alone in the middle of the diner. He slides into it, the right side of his face jerking like the movement hurts.
“Are you o—”
“I’m great. Thank you.” His full lips pull into a closed-mouth smile that makes my knees want to fold.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He’s a human being, Annie. That’s all. He might be a freaking gorgeous one, but that doesn’t make him better than anybody else.
The reminder pops a few of the giddy crush bubbles rising in my stomach, but not all of them.
My voice still pitches funny when I hand him the menu. “Here you go. I’ll be back in just a minute to take your order.”
And then I scoot.
Making a beeline for the kitchen, I slap down Franks and Billy’s order before heading out to clear the Yateses’ table. My eyes, of course, dart to the guy in the end booth, my insides stirring with something insane.
Geez Louise, this is crazy. I don’t know one thing about the man… except the fact that he’s hotter than the sun.
Aw, man, this is gonna be the longest night in history.
8
A Sweet Rose
The menu feels heavy in my slick hands.
My head feels like a boulder on my shoestring neck.
Man, I hope some food and drink will give me a second wind. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to make it through the night. I could always sleep in the car. It’s well hidden. But gaining ground through the night is only going to help me. I need to get as far from Sloan as I can.
My mind darts to the backpack. I hid it, plus the Audi’s car key, behind the garage at the back of the diner. It’s a scrappy, barn-shaped building that looks like it could use some care. There were no security lights around the back, which was perfect. The shadows hid me as I tucked the bag behind a pile of wood and covered it up with a few loose logs. It should stay safe until I leave this place.
The property dips down to a rusted fence. I leaned against it as I shuffled past a skinny creek, keeping my eye on the field beyond. All was quiet, and I managed to sneak through a loose part of the fence. It brought me out to the back of the garage, and I quickly got the impression that I was walking in a place that didn’t get used very often. It was perfect. I wasn’t about to stumble down Main Street, catching a bunch of unwanted attention.
I could hear the music from the bar wafting back to me, and it was easy to orient myself after that. I snuck around the side of the garage to find a small parking lot. Enough spaces for maybe five cars. They were all filled. Staying against the wall, I assessed my surroundings, measuring the distance to the diner’s back door, memorizing where the dark patches were. I could dodge the feeble security lights and escape quickly into the darkness if I needed to.