For the Ozarks being a big geographic area, it has some serious hometown feels. When I walk into my restaurant, I’m greeted by the same faces. I’ve hired each of the waitstaff specifically because they know how to be friendly.
This is a tourist spot, after all. We thrive on tourism and our reviews. We cannot have a bad experience.
So when I see Patty chatting up an older couple in one of the wooden booths, I smile as I walk past, giving her a happy nod. Then I grin at Silvia as she helps out a family with two young kids who will, no doubt, give her a run for her money.
I’m about to head into the kitchen to check on the cooks when the front door opens and my attention is totally stolen. Two people walk in with bright smiles on their faces and laughing as they tease each other.
The girl wears a pair of shorts overalls and a tank top, her hair in a ponytail with orange sneakers. But it’s the guy who catches my attention. He looks straight off the farm in tight jeans, a muscle shirt with the sleeves cut off, and a backward black baseball cap.
His brown eyes are full of wonder and mischief and are set into the prettiest face I’ve ever seen on a man, and I’ve seen a lot of beautiful men in my day. I’ve owned this barbecue restaurant for five years now. Hot tourists come through here every summer, looking for a good time, but this one has me in a trance.
Instead of letting Patty seat them at a table, I swoop in, telling her I’ve got it. She looks suspicious but then shakes her head at me with a knowing smile. “Sure thing, boss.”
I ignore her teasing tone and look back at the strangers. “Booth or table?”
The guy appears frozen for a moment, his dark eyes locked on mine, kicking my smile up into a smirk. I think he likes what he sees.
Hopefully, this will be easy.
“Booth,” the girl answers for him, and he startles a little, then nods in agreement.
“Right this way,” I say, motioning for them to follow, not missing the way his eyes lock on my bicep as it flexes with the movement.
Yeah. Totally easy.
I get them settled in a booth with a menu in front of each of them. “Here for vacation?” I ask, trying to sound casual and friendly, when really my stomach is dancing with nerves. I don’t think they’re together. They have more of a brother and sister vibe than a dating one, and if they are, he has some explaining to do with the way his eyes have been roaming over my body since he got here.
“Nope. We’re new residents,” the girl supplies, and my smile instantly fades.
Oh.Not tourists.
I force a smile back on my face and try to be polite. I look over at Mr. Hottie, mourning all the things I could have done with that sweet body. But it wasn’t meant to be. I never fool around with locals.
It’s just not smart.
“Well, welcome. I’m Owen. Owner of this fine establishment.” I wave my hand, sweeping it out to show the restaurant.
“Nice to meet you, Owen. I’m Sarah.” The girl motions to herself and then points at the man across from her. “This is Mason.”
Mason.
God, he’s hot. His cheeks blush slightly as his big brown eyes look up and meet mine. “Hi. Yeah, nice to meet you.”
Damn it. We could have had so much fun.
“What can I get you guys to drink while I give you some time with the menu?” I gotta get moving because his smile does things to me I don’t completely understand.
They give me their order, and I head over to grab their drinks as Patty joins me, a smile on her face. “Is he going to be the next notch in your bedpost, boss?”
She waggles her eyebrows at me, and I grumble, “You know I really am your boss, right? And I can fire you.”
She doesn’t look concerned at all. “You would never, and what’s wrong? You looked totally smitten.”
“I’m never smitten,” I argue instantly, and she just scoffs. “He moved here. He’s a local.”
Her eyes roll so hard at that, and she huffs at me, “Sooooo?”
“So you know I don’t do that.” I hand her the cups for Sarah and Mason. “Can you take over for me? I have some stuff to do.”
