Page 7 of Rockstar Baby

“Now that you mention it, yes, I do hear the Irish. I didn’t at first. I meant because you accused me of being a model. I lost one of my false eyelashes in my margarita.” She pointed to her naked eye and it made me laugh, because somehow I hadn’t noticed she was missing one.

I’d been too busy noticing all the rest of her.

“A night out with your girlfriends, was it? Or your boyfriend?” I wasn’t sure why my voice deepened when I said that, or why my hands tightened where I’d tucked them under my arms.

She snorted at that. “You’re kidding, right? In this town? All the men are married or dating or old enough to be my grandfather. I have to widen my net.” She licked her lips, probably a nervous habit. But that quick flash of tongue combined with her lush mouth had my muscles locking as if I was a predator in the woods, scenting my mate.

“How old are you?”

She let out a laugh. “Old enough. Would you like a seat? You must be hungry.”

“Oh, I am.” I just hadn’t expected to be hungry forhermore than I was for food. “You didn’t answer the question.”

She tucked her tongue in her cheek. “Neither did you.”

“Yes, I’d like a seat. Usually when women don’t share their age either they’re too young or too—”

“Old?”

“Too tired of bullshit.”

“Oh, well, I’m definitely tired of that. Booth or table?”

“Whatever you’d like to give me.”

Her eyes flashed, and it annoyed me that without my glasses I couldn’t as easily make out their color. I hadn’t expected to need them for any fine details at the diner. Sometimes it was better if you couldn’t see too clearly at a greasy spoon.

But here, I’d miscalculated. In more ways than one.

Silently, she led me to a booth. She leaned across the table to grab a laminated menu out of the rack and opened it in front of me. “We serve our full menu all night long, so whatever you’d like is available.”

“Not sure about that,” I said under my breath as I scanned the offerings. “Black coffee and the big boy breakfast with bacon, please.” I winced and closed the menu. “Unfortunate name.”

“Are you?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

She was scribbling so furiously on her pad I was almost certain I’d imagined the cheeky question—if not for the telltale twitch of her bedroom mouth. “I’ll let management know you’re displeased with the name of your food.”

“Appreciate it. While you’re at it, let them know I’m happy to compensate them for cutting your shift short.” I met her shocked stare straight on. “And I’ll answer that question of yours in private.”

Three

I tookthe menu from him and tucked it back behind the condiments. Something I did a million times a day. Except everything inside me was jangling in a whole new way.

The jukebox kicked over to the next song. The Zombies and their groovy 60’s rhythm filled the space between us.

He didn’t mean what he’d just said. That was ridiculous.

“Do you need glasses?”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

“First, you thought I was a model. Then you think it would be okay to blatantly proposition me.”

“If you’re offended, I apologize. I misread.”

My lips twitched again. “You didn’t.”