He turned to the younger married woman. “And for you, ma’am?”
“I’ll have a dirty martini,” she blurted out as she attempted to calm two of the kids, then shot him an exasperated smile. “Make it stiff.”
Nick chuckled politely. “Of course. For you, sir?”
“IPA,” the other man muttered from behind the menu.
Nick tipped his head toward the other young woman, mentally noting the lack of a ring on her left hand. “And you, miss?”
The young woman met his gaze and opened her mouth to answer, only to be cut off by the other woman.
“Do you have lemonade or something?”
“We do.”
“Can I get three of those in cups with lids?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you! Sorry, Samantha. Go ahead.”
Samantha.
“I’ll have a … um … I don’t know. Some kind of white wine,” she stammered as she skimmed the wine list, then looked back up at him through big brown eyes and long eyelashes. Her brows lifted as she appeared to get a good look at him, and he pretended to read her mind.
Yes, I am that hot,he thought.And so are you.
“Uh…” she stammered again as she quickly turned her gaze back to the list. “What’s a good white wine?”
“Sauvignon blanc is quite nice. Domaine Vacheron 2012 is one of my favorites,” he answered, managing to avoid a smirk.
“I’ll have that, thank you,” she sputtered and handed the list to him, flicking a glance at his face again and then sipping her water.
“You’ll enjoy it, I promise,” he assured her. “I’ll have these out for you right away.”
Nick stepped away from the table and eased up to the bar to put in the order. He leaned against it and looked back at the table to discover Samantha staring at him. He blatantly held her gaze for a moment and smiled before turning back to retrieve the tray of drinks.
The group was heavily engulfed in conversation when he returned so he silently placed the drinks on the table. When he set down the white wine, he darted a glance at Samantha’s face, who looked at him intensely with slightly narrowed eyes and an arched brow. He returned the gaze in a less discreet fashion than was probably appropriate and they sort of stared at each other for a moment.
“Thank you,” she said in a low voice.
“Enjoy.”
Damn.That was—by far—the most blatant eye-fuck he’d ever seen. Maybe he didn’t have to write off this opportunity completely.
The stare held for another second before he jolted himself back to reality and addressed the table.
“So, ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s special is Redfish with Maitake mushroom, Cipollini in Beurre Rouge—”
“I’ll have that,” Samantha piped up, still holding his gaze.
He offered a half smile. “Lovely choice. Sides include herb roasted zucchini, asparagus in lemon and brown butter, or spinach with hazelnut and Brazos Eden Brie.”
“Uh…” She paused to fan her face. “The zucchini.”
He gave a subtle lift of his eyebrow. “Beautiful.” He paused to check his peripheral vision then winked discreetly. Samantha handed the menu to him and he intentionally grazed his fingertips over hers. She sat back in her chair and appeared to gulp some wine.
“I’ll have the rib eye,” the older gentleman cut in, glancing at the menu. “Medium rare. I’ll have the asparagus.”
