Page 41 of The Bartender Special

“Really?” she asked Jack.

Benny applied light pressure to Jack’s hand.

“It was Jack's idea, but I turned it down at first,” Benny continued. “I thought for sure we'd get caught as a new couple if we hosted together, but now? Well, now everyone knows about us, so why not?”

“That would be even better,” Arnesha chimed in, face pinching like she was running mental math. “Even more opportunity for publicity for the town and from a group of people we might not usually get—Arbor Bay’s night life.”

Marcus seconded the sentiment.

“Not to mention, it would be nice to have an option to drink after spending, I'm sure, a ridiculous amount of hours on a parade float we all know is going to lose against Carol and her gardening club anyways.”

The queen bee, lying low since her mother had taken over, didn't look amused with where the conversation had gone again.

“We usually have drinks here at the greenhouse the night before the festival,” she said. “It's an unofficial event, of course, but a lot of the people participating in the parade show up.”

“But that's unofficial, dear.” Mrs. Robertson looked at Jack this time, something she hadn't done much since they'd sat down, what with Benny being the focus. “We could make Cassidy's Place the official kickoff party spot for the festival. Hosted by the internet's new favorite couple! My goodness, that sounds so much fun already! What do you say?”

Benny pumped his hand twice.

Jack, once again, gave a Robertson woman an answer he didn’t want to give.

“Sounds like it'll be one hell of a time.”

* * *

Benny was walking fast. There was no watching his footing on the stone path or trying to keep from looking like a wild animal scurrying away to hide. He was charging full speed ahead to Jack's truck, his date trailing behind.

Benny had already decided that once the food was eaten and the drinks were drained, he was going to get out of the Robertson garden with an excuse and a prayer. No lingering looks, laughs, or small talk. Just smiles and waves and a confirmation or two of when the next time they'd see each other might be. Simple, polite, and sanity-saving. Then, when he and Jack were alone in the truck, they'd get loud and complicated about everything they'd learned and all that had happened during the lunch.

For a moment, Benny thought that this plan would work out for him. He was so close to the truck that he was already mentally opening his door and sliding into the passenger's seat. Yet, there was a saying about being close.

It only counted in horseshoes and hand grenades.

Barely a step off of the stone path, and Benny heard laughter behind them. It was the same laughter they'd heard throughout their shared frill-covered social nightmare in the greenhouse.

Felicity and Marcus. In tandem, laughing, totally and annoyingly in sync.

All while Benny and Jack had been silently sparring with their eyes when no one was looking their way.

At least Benny had.

Out of all of the things he’d had to worry about reacting to when he woke up that morning, Felicity Fairchild hadn’t even remotely been one of them.

Benny slowed his pace so Jack could walk beside him, trying for in sync. Or, at least, covering for the image of him trying to flee.

Jack matched his stride and then lowered his voice so only Benny could hear him.

“Let me open your door.”

His hand landed on the small of Benny’s back seconds after his low voice thrummed against his ear.

Benny, who was smart, capable, and proficient in several kinds of customer service-worthy responses after dealing with panicked brides, overbearing mothers of grooms, and the odd drunk uncle or two, lost all of his common-sense marbles at the request.

Had Jack’s hand always been that big?

It felt like it clear stretched across Benny’s lower back, almost reaching both sides of his hips.

Surely the hand he had held earlier hadn’t been that…expansive?