Page 17 of Small Town Swoo
“Positive.”
“Okay.” I swung the door open wide enough for him to enter, then locked it behind him. “It’s not the most glamorous job in the world, but if you can pour coffee and take breakfast orders, I can use you.”
Dash turned in a circle, looking around the diner. “I haven’t been here in a while. Looks the same.”
“Nothing ever changes at Moe’s.”
His eyes scanned the photos on the wall, and he laughed. “What happened there?”
I followed his line of sight to his headshot. “Oh, that. Uh, someone broke in and vandalized your picture.”
“Justmypicture?”
I nodded, pressing my lips together.
“And why didn’t you clean it off?”
“I just think you look better that way. It makes your face more interesting.”
He laughed. “My face wasn’t interesting before?”
“Not really. Average at best.” Grinning, I moved past him toward the counter. “So first thing, we?—”
“Hey, wait.” He caught up to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “You’re not zipped all the way.”
I went still as he finished the task, heat rising within me. “Thanks. I couldn’t reach it this morning.”
“All good.” His hand lingered at the top of my spine.
Move, Ari,I told myself. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“I’d pay many Bulge Bucks for some coffee.”
“What are Bulge Bucks?” I grabbed the pot and filled a thick white mug for him.
“It’s what my siblings call the money I made fromMalibu Splash.”
I laughed. “Sounds like them. Cream and sugar?”
“Nope. This is perfect.” He picked up the cup and sipped. “So do I get a cute little uniform like you have?”
“No. But I’ll get you an apron,” I said, heading for the kitchen. “Then I’ll go over the specials with you.”
From a closet in the back, I grabbed a clean white apron that said Moe’s on the front and brought it to him, watching with amusement as he removed his hoodie, slipped the loop over his head, and tied the string around his waist. Beneath it he wore jeans and a black T-shirt, the sleeves of which hugged his biceps.
“How do I look?” he asked, holding his arms out.
“Like Bulge in season two, episode six, when he worked at the soup kitchen. Or maybe the Halloween episode from season four—the slasher parody—when you played the scary butcher and walked around with that cleaver.” I shivered.
“You watched my show?”
I cringed. “I’d like to say no, but I think you’d call my bluff.”
“At this point, I might.”
“I especially like the musical episodes. But the Christmas special was fun too. You looked great in the Santa suit.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You’ve watched every episode, haven’t you?”
