Too bad her little heart always desired things that were not good for her. Like flirting with Levi.
“Sorry, no can do. I’m picking up a to-go order for the Harpers.” Which she would deliver on her way to the movies with Bruce. He was easy that way.
“The Crow’s Nest doesn’t do to-go orders anymore.”
“Sure you do.” She stretched her arm across the bar, hand inches from his face, and pointed to the ink scribbles on her palm. “Crab cakes. Two bowls of chowder. Salmon burger.” She mimicked the bouncing ball over the words as she read. “To go. It’s all right there.”
A tiny grin played at the side of his mouth.
“Oh, and Mrs. Harper says to go heavy on the fries. I guess last time the portions were a little stingy.”
“Gus shouldn’t be taking to-go orders,” Levi said, referring to his chef. “We are an in-dining establishment only.”
“Gus and I have an arrangement.” She winked.
“How did you manage that?”
“A month or so back, Annie was working a double at the hospital. Emmitt was in New York and wanted to make sure she had a hot meal, so he called me.” Annie was not only Emmitt’s new fiancée; she was also Beckett’s best friend. “It became a thing. Whenever he was out of town, he’d place an order; I’d deliver it to the hospital. What can I say—love makes people do crazy things.”
“Yeah, like completely ignore bro code,” he mumbled. “And Gus went along with this?”
“Gus is an excellent head chef. Accommodating and pleasant, which is why I decided to offer the service to all my clients. Gus thought it was a great idea and we formed a system. Customer calls me, I call Gus, Dean meets me at the back door.”
He ran a hand down his face. “You have my waitstaff in on this?”
“Just Dean.”
“Why am I not surprised?” He groaned.
“He thinks I should make an app. You know, really streamline the process. I’m considering it.”
“An app,” he repeated, but he didn’t sound angry. Oh no, the laid-back bartender grinned as if he found this entire thing amusing. “What am I going to do with you?”
Beckett could think of one million and one delicious things he could do to her. Since all but one landed in the “inside thoughts only” category, she said, “How about some crab cakes, two bowls of chowder, and a salmon burger to go? Pretty please.”
“Not even with sugar on top. No matter how appealing that might sound coming out of your mouth,” he said, and Beckett froze. When it came to Levi’s opinion of her mouth, appealing was never a word he’d used. Smart, loud, dirty at times, but never appealing. “Last time you had an arrangement with my restaurant, I spent my first night off in months serving two hundred mini crab cakes and six seafood platters at the fire chief’s retirement party. Not to mention the identical order we had to trash because it went bad waiting for pickup.”
“That was an unfortunate situation.” Which only managed to reconfirm Levi’s—totally bogus—opinion that Beckett was a flake.
Oh, she’d provided him with a dozen reasons to fuel that belief—and that was just in the past few months. But the old saying about withholding judgment until walking a mile in someone’s shoes? People would rather dance barefoot over glass shards and rusty fishhooks than even put on one of Beckett’s shoes. But she’d learned long ago that she didn’t have to justify her reality to anyone—no matter how sexy he might be.
“And it won’t ever happen again. I promise.” She almost cringed, because she’d also learned long ago never to make promises she couldn’t keep—even if she meant them in the moment.
“Can’t happen again, since we no longer do to-go orders,” he repeated. “And before you remind me how ludicrous, futile, and shortsighted my rules are, know that I’m not in the mood.”
She leaned on the bar, which brought her way past up close and personal. “You forgot moronic, asinine, and a bad business decision.”
He smiled. “My decision to make. In fact, if I wasn’t already overbooked and short-staffed, Gus would be looking for a new job. He’s struggling to keep up with the volume of orders from the bar and dining area. He doesn’t have time to be running orders for takeout. And don’t even get me started on Dean.”
“No running involved, because lucky for you, I was a state champion sprinter.” Which would come in handy, since she’d given herself four months to transform her