Not Quite Dating (Page 3)

Not Quite Dating (Not Quite #1)(3)
Author: Catherine Bybee

A quick assessment told Jessie that the yahoos at the table were definitely coming off a night of drinking. Maybe even a couple nights from the state of their five o’clock shadows.

Dishwater flashed his white teeth and a little-boy smile. The man to his left elbowed him in his side. “Pay no attention to Dean. He hasn’t been sober for three days.”

“You’re one to talk, Mikey.” These words came from a robust man wearing a baseball cap and at least two days of stubble on his chin.

“Jack is the only one remotely sober,” Mikey said.

Yep, definitely a party crowd.

The one they called Jack took his time lowering his menu before acknowledging Jessie. His dark brown hair, topped with a Stetson, tilted as he moved his head. The stubble on his chin held the perfect amount of sexy. The slow, steady soaking in of his stare settled on her from the most unusual gray eyes Jessie had ever seen. Those smoky eyes took their ever-lovin’ time as his gaze slid over her hair, her face. After looking his fill, he caught her eyes again and held them. As if calculated for effect, Jack allowed a slow and delicious smile, complete with dimples, to spread over his face. A smile meant only for her.

Smiles like that should come with a warning label. His staunch attention did a number on her belly and raised gooseflesh on her bare arms. She swallowed hard, and her skin tingled as if he’d caressed her.

Jessie blinked a few times, broke eye contact, and asked, “How about some coffee?”

“That would be great,” Jack replied with an accent that matched his cowboy hat.

The Texan accent pulled a warm and fuzzy blanket over her insides. Southern California natives didn’t have any discernible accent at all, so when she heard one, she remembered it.

Pivoting, Jessie shoved her notepad into her apron and walked to the coffeepot.

“Isn’t she something to look at?” one of the party boys said.

Jessie knew she wasn’t ugly, but she didn’t see all that much when she looked into the mirror. Her light brown hair sat twisted into a knot at the base of her neck; her dull hazel eyes had dark smudges beneath them indicating a lack of sleep, and it was hard to be fat when all her money went to bills and care for her son, Danny.

The four men…no, make that boys…at table twelve probably didn’t have one decent responsibility to scrape together if they combined them. They were all wearing jeans and T-shirts, and two of them smelled like beer.

Frat boys who never grew up. Heck, maybe they were all still in school. Jessie guessed their ages to all be about the same, around twenty-eight or so.

Returning to the table, Jessie set down coffee cups and filled them. “Thank you…Jessica,” Jack with the mysterious gray eyes said after a quick glance at her name tag.

“Jessie, actually. Where are you boys coming from?” she asked, making conversation.

“Weekend in Vegas,” the one named Mikey told her.

She should have guessed.

“Our buddy Dean here is tying the knot in a few weeks, so we decided to send him off in style.”

“Vegas can be a dangerous place to have a bachelor party,” she said.

“See, that’s what I said,” the man sitting next to Jack told them. “But does anyone listen to Tom? Heck no. You think everything went great and next thing you know your drunk ass is dancing naked on YouTube with some chick you don’t even remember.”

“I didn’t dance naked with some chick…did I?” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and frowned.

Jack shot a dimpled grin at his friend. “You were pretty wasted.”

“I still don’t remember any naked dancing.”

“Oh, chill,” Mikey told him. “No one was taping you dancing naked.”

Jessie had to smile. The boys were giving their friend a hard time, and it was fun to watch. From the look on Dean’s face, he wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t danced in the buff.

“You guys know what you want, or should I give you a few more minutes to decide?” Jessie asked.

“I know what I want,” Tom said, setting his menu on the table.

The others chimed in the same. After taking their orders, Jessie left.

Leanne smiled her way once Jessie gave the cook the order. “Looks like a handful over there. Cute times four,” she sighed with a smile.

“Two of ’em have accents, too.”

“Lookie you, checking them out.”

“I’m not checking anyone out. The last thing I need is another playboy messing up my life.”

Jessie turned around and refilled the coffee cup of one of her night-owl customers sitting at the counter. “How are the pancakes, Mr. Richman?”

“Fine, just fine,” he replied.

When Jessie turned back to Leanne, the other waitress continued talking. “Who’s to say they’re a bunch of playboys?”

“Frat boys who never grew up, most likely.”

“Playboys, frat boys, whatever. One of ’em could be the rich guy of your dreams.”

Jessie raised an eyebrow. “Right.” Grabbing Leanne’s hand, Jessie led her to a far window overlooking the parking lot. “Take a look, sister. See any crazy-expensive cars out there?” Actually, the only cars in the lot belonged to the employees and Mr. Richman. Except for one lone pickup that was new sometime in the mid-1990s. That seemed about the right speed for the cowboys at table twelve.

“That doesn’t mean nothing.” Leanne pulled away and frowned. “Besides, dating means free meals and a movie. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Dinner and a movie in my world consist of McDonald’s and SpongeBob on TV. Dating and Danny don’t mix.”

“Your sister will watch him for you.”

“Yeah, but why waste my time on someone dreaming of the future instead of living it? You know my mom isn’t the wisest woman in the bunch, but she told me once that it is just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it is to fall in love with a poor one.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So don’t date poor men.”

Across the restaurant, Jack with the gray eyes and the Stetson was watching her over his coffee cup. When he caught her gaze, his lips pulled into a grin, dimples and all. Then, without any provocation, he winked.

“Oh boy.” Jessie lowered her eyes and tried to ignore the flirting frat playboy and the way his attention made her insides squirm.

“Mr. Cowboy is sexy.” Leanna giggled when she spoke.

“I’ll bet Mr. Cowboy mooches off one of his friends for the bill.”