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“Three margaritas for the girls at table twelve,” Annie called out to the new-to-town bartender, Vikki, who balked through her copper bangs.
“Seriously? Where do they think they are, Cabo?”
Lexie felt for her. She’d only started working at Rusty’s a week ago. Minimal experience and no references, but Wade gave her the job anyway, promising a fair wage and to only have her work Mondays through Thursdays until she was confident enough to tackle busier nights. All things considered, she was handling it well.
As Wade began showing Vikki how the drink was made, Annie came around the bar to whisper in Lexie’s ear, “Okay, so, I know I’m probably just being paranoid, but I have to tell you something before I drive myself crazy.”
“Okay.”
“Honestly, I’m sure it’s nothing. I mean, you know how I am, always overthinking things and freaking out for no reason just like my mom does. Like remember that time she thought I was doing drugs when she found your cigarette in my backpack?”
“Pretty sure it was your cigarette,” Lexie said. “And a joint.”
“Ugh, you’re so not helping.” Annie followed Lexie through the kitchen, past Tobias—their overweight, middle-aged cook with an attitude—and into the walk-in refrigerator. “I have a serious problem, and I need you to tell me what to do.”
“Well, I can’t do that until you tell me what it is,” Lexie said, grabbing an apple pie and walking back toward the restaurant. “So, come on, spit it out.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Annie hissed, “I think Paul is cheating on me!”
“What?” Lexie stopped beside the grill where Tobias was frying one of his famous steaks. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know,” Annie whined, slumping on a nearby chair. “He’s just been acting weird lately. He’s distant. Irritable. Sometimes he’s great, you know, super affectionate, just like he was in the beginning, but other times he can just be so . . . cold. I’m just . . .”—she shrugged—“I’m worried.”
“Have you tried talking to him?”
“No,” she admitted. “I guess I’m afraid of what he might say.”
“Babe.” Lexie put her hand on Annie’s arm. “He loves you. Everyone knows it just by the way he looks at you. I’m sure it’s just work stressing him out or something.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Before Lexie could say more, Wade called out for some help. “Do me a favor and find a table for the newcomers, would you?” he said once Lexie had stowed the pie in the display case.
Her gaze followed the incline of his head to the two men who’d walked through the door. “Sure.”
She grabbed a couple of menus from the stand and made her way over. As she neared, she recognized the shorter of the two. “In for dinner, Frank?”
“Evening, Lex. Have you got room?”
“I’ll find you something.”
His companion was younger, closer to her own age. He was tall and sturdy, wearing a snug maroon t-shirt atop faded jeans and boots, leaving little doubt of the fit build beneath. No uniform, but the same official badge that Frank wore on his chest dangled from a thin chain around his neck.
“You must be the new lieutenant,” she said. “We heard you were coming.”
He didn’t answer. Honey-brown eyes stared at her from beneath dark brows. His lips twitched like he was caught somewhere between a smile and a sentence, yet no sound escaped. He seemed mesmerized. His hands fisted nervously at his sides.
“I’m Lexie. Can I get you something to . . .” She trailed off, looking back at him—really looking.
No. Was it . . . ?
That face. She knew that face. Had dreamed about it.
She hesitated, then stepped closer. Olive skin grew the beginnings of a dark beard across a strong jawline. Dusky brown hair, short but scruffy, fell above a jagged scar on his forehead. None of it familiar. And yet . . .
Was it really . . . ?
He cleared his throat, offering her an uncertain smile. “Hi. I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m—”
