Cocky By Association (Cocker Brothers, The Cocky Series Book 14) by Faleena Hopkins

Author:Faleena Hopkins [Hopkins, Faleena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hop Hop Productions
Published: 2017-11-08T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 39

ERIC

Since it’s swamped, she’s got a lot to type in, so I skim a curious glance around the service station. In the darkness of walnut shelves lie unopened boxes of straws beside stacks of empty trays that could use a cleaning. And that’s a lot of fuckin’ drinks to take to the floor. How many orders are waiting to be delivered? No room for any more, that’s for damn sure.

Craning my neck I search the place to see if she’s got backup out there. Is she the only waitress working this crazy shift today?

Now that I think about it, nobody’s served us since we arrived but her. The staff here wears jeans and t-shirts, so maybe I didn’t notice another girl working the floor besides Sweet Tits. Right over there is a bar-back doubling as bus boy. Look at him sweat, poor kid. Other than them, I think it’s just the bartender, Mike. And he’s just one skilled guy handling her drinks, plus all the locals sitting at a crowded counter, plus the impatient excess.

That’s nuts.

Suddenly feeling like a jerk for barging in on her when she’s clearly overwhelmed, I ask, “Hey, how many waitresses are on today?” just so I can get some clarity and apologize.

A quick glance over her shoulder and we lock eyes. First good look I’ve had at the copper beauties. She’s got what I call laughing eyes, like she knows a secret she’ll never tell. Without missing a beat she says, “We’re servers, not waitresses. Get it right,” and turns back around, swiping a paper napkin from her tray with words scrawled on it, stuffing it in her pocket.

Chuckling I repeat the question my way, “How many waitresses are on today?”

For another hot second we lock eyes before hers drop to rake down my body. She gives me the once over like I’m handsome but a total asshole she wishes would go away. Turning away from me, she stacks her tray so full I’m sure something’s going to topple, telling me while she works, “I’ll get to your team of jackasses when I can. Or you can order from the bar. Kinda busy here, Cocker.”

My thumbs hook into my pockets as I lift an eyebrow. “Oh, so you know who I am.”

“Yep,” she mutters, tucking cocktail napkins in her short apron. “Now ask me if I care.”

Laughter ripples through my muscles. “Do you care?”

Lifting the tray like the pro that she is, those dancing coppers sparkle like wild. “You know how big an ant’s foot is? That’s how little I give a shit. Bye bye.” Maneuvering around me with the skill of a running back dodging the opposing team, she disappears into a throng of bodies and leaves me staring after her with a nagging urge to make her care.

And that nagging is all in my cock.

Fuck is that waitress sexy.

Have to get on that a.s.a.p.

With this in my head I glance back to my team and discover them laughing their butts off. The sound gets louder, surfing over both the playlist and the mob of indiscernible conversations.

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