Free Rough Ride by Keri Ford

sexy thing like Flora and Tonya insisted she aim for. She was just her. The widow in town. She never realized how rarely she flirted. How rarely people flirted with her.
    “Well?” Flora asked at the drink stations.
    “He just keeps staring at me.”
    “Good!”
    “No, I don’t think it’s good. He looks confused.”
    Flora patted the top of her head. “Confused staring is good. Trust me.”
    “That’s what you said when you claimed he’d be easy!”
    Someone ahem’d and Gretchen glanced over her shoulder to see one of the regular waitresses waiting. She filled up her last coke pitcher and got out of the way. “I am ready for this night to be over. Love helping Tonya out for busy nights like this, but this one might kill me.”
    “I already saw the pitcher of sangria cooling in the big refrigerator. Just keeping thinking sangria.”
    “Bless, Tonya.” Gretchen turned and slid away from the machine, and marched through the tables, putting down refill pitchers and picking up empties as she moved. Through the corner of her eye…the one she kept looking out…there was no missing Lane staring her way.
    She swept through the kitchen. Dumped the empty pitchers in the sink for a wash and waited by the fryers as her cheese sticks for the Iverson Brothers were finished. She glanced down the ticket line and saw another table’s food was being wrapped and plated.
    Jimmy, the old fryer cook, shook one of the fryer baskets. “Halfway there, now!”
    She laughed. “Only halfway?”
    He slid the two baskets of cheese sticks on her tray and two plates of fries. “Take those down for me?”
    “Sure, I think they’re mine anyway.” She looked for plates with her personal blue tickets, noted their table numbers and loaded up her tray and headed out for another pass through the room. She unloaded as she moved and finally came back across Lane’s table and dropped down the piping hot cheese sticks. “Everything all right here?”
    She was met with nods and moans by the table. By everyone except Lane, who was still staring at her. She couldn’t help it. “Is there a problem with your dip? Or drink?”
    He shook his head. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
    “Dear God, no. I’d die if I had to do this every night. I fill in for Tonya when she’s short on wait staff, or on nights like this.”
    Trent grinned. “I bet you’re going to be exhausted.”
    She smiled. “My bed is already calling for me.”
    She spun and hurried off, Trent’s snicker chasing after her. She checked her other tables as she returned to the kitchen. Short. Quick. Flirty. Utterly stupid. Oh my, God, what had she been thinking to mention a bed in front of Lane? She’d said bed.
    And so it continued.
    A constant near running pace of filling drinks, checking orders, delivering and smiling like she loved it the whole time. Not that she didn’t enjoy parts of helping Tonya out. She got to see a lot of people she only ran across on occasion. She enjoyed the quick chats and the many laughs, but she’d never had to do this with Lane staring. There was a constant itch in the middle of her back, knowing she was being watched. This kind of thing was exhausting enough, but with him there just watching, slowly nursing a beer, it was pure murder.
    Another pass through the kitchen and finally the tickets were starting to slow down to manageable. Lane’s table was out next and she hooked her hand through Flora’s. Help me with the next one?”
    “Sure. A big order?”
    Oh, yes. A big, dark muscly hot order. Plated orders slid across the bar and she picked up blue tickets, Flora doing the same. She exited the kitchen and noted a few tables were finally emptying. “Looks like we’re almost done.”
    “Thank God. I stole that strawberry pie out of your refrigerator to go with the sangria and I’m ready to dig in.”
    “You stole my pie?” Gretchen glanced back. “I’d hid it in the back!”
    “I know. And you did a good job, too.” Flora