"He's the owner?"
Lucas nodded and picked up his water to take a long sip. "He's owned this place for twenty years."
"I've never been here before," I admitted, scanning the room and admiring the decorating talent.
"My brother makes the best spaghetti in Midnight Cove."
I didn't like spaghetti. "Oh, wonderful," I said and began to skim the menu while also trying to figure out how to skip ordering spaghetti.
A few minutes later we were spared from continuing to make awkward conversation when a large blond man with startling green eyes stopped in front of the table and stared at Lucas like he'd grown three heads.
"The hell?" was all he said. He skimmed Lucas' ridiculous attire, then sensing there was another person there, he slowly turned his head to me. His eyes widened.
"Lucas? Would you like to explain this?"
I didn't give them a chance. "He showed up at my door looking like a hillbilly hipster, so I was forced to change clothes."
He blinked at me, but after a second a slow grin began to form on his face. "And what were you wearing before then, if I may be so bold?"
"Heels," I said. "A dress. I'd even hot rolled my hair. But then this fool rolled up."
His brother's shoulders shook with laughter. "I see."
Lucas had the grace to redden in color. "It wasn't that bad," he insisted.
"And then he played terrible heavy metal music all the way to Pete's."
His brother's eyebrows went straight up to his hairline. "Pete's?" he echoed. "When Mom finds out about this she is going to murder you."
"Please don't tell her, Frank," Lucas pled while also managing to give me a blistering glare.
"And why are you still here?" his brother asked me.
I gave him a sweet smile. "Because I called him on his bullshit and I demanded to be provided with a meal at a place I wouldn't be poisoned at."
Frank's bright gaze turned thoughtful. "Even with your ridiculous attire, you are quite fetching." He held out his hand and I placed mine in it. He bestowed a light, skin tingling kiss on the back of my hand. "I apologize for my brother's idiotic behavior. I can assure you, beneath all of that offensive facial hair and garage sale clothing, there beats the heart of a chivalrous lion."
I gently pulled my hand away. "Forgive me if I don't believe you right away. I'm just here for the meal now. I think any chances of a second date are pretty slim to none."
His gaze sharpened with interest, but he turned back to his brother when Lucas cleared his throat none too gently.
"If you're done flirting with my date, I'd like to order, please."
"Well, someone needed to do it, bro." He leaned closer. "And you should have let her keep the dress on. I bet her legs are incredible."
Heat flushed my neck and crept up to my cheeks.
"Go. Away." Lucas glared at his brother but was rewarded with an unrepentant grin as Frank flipped out his pad and asked what we wanted.
"We'll both have the spaghetti," Lucas said and closed his menu.
I wanted to wail with despair, but I pressed my lips together to keep from saying a word.
Frank gave his brother a look that told me if I hadn't been there, there would be violence. "I apologize, sir," Frank said, going into both waiter and gentleman mode, "I don't recall hearing you ask the lady what she wanted."
A look of both surprise and anger floated onto Lucas’ face. He had the chance to save face, but chose not to. "I told you she wanted spaghetti."
Frank looked to me. "Do you really want spaghetti? Your face says you'd like to flay my brother alive, so I'm guessing not." He shrugged, took the menu from me, and opened it up to the pasta section. He pointed to an item on the menu. "This is one of the best things we offer, in spite of what my spaghetti obsessed brother told you."
