Don't Go Away Mad (Burgers and Brew Crüe Book 2) Read online

  “I’m getting hungry,” Dustin announces, putting the last of the clean dishes away on the shelves.

  “Me too,” I reply, realizing my stomach has been growling for a while, but my nerves got the best of me today.

  We wrapped up training with Daisy, who is eager to start Monday morning when Sugar Rush opens its doors for the first time. We kept our focus on the front end of the business, which, fortunately, she picked up quickly. She’ll be in charge of the cash register and filling orders, with the help of Dustin. Together, they’ll serve coffee, tea, or any of the other bottled drinks we’ll carry. Eventually, I’d love to add more specialty drinks like lattes and espressos, but it’s just not in the budget right now.

  Also today, the front door and windows were done, complete with a new Sugar Rush logo front and center. I opted to include our hours on a sign positioned by the front door instead of having them added beneath the logo on the door, mostly because they may change once we get going. It all depends on how busy we are.

  Or aren’t.

  But I won’t think of that right now. My anxiety is already through the roof, and the last thing I need to focus on is the what-ifs.

  The health inspector also made his final inspection, giving us full approval to open our doors. Holding that piece of paper was probably the proudest moment I’ve had since beginning this venture. It means we’ve met all of the criteria for health and safety to serve food to the public. The moment he left, Dustin helped me frame the certificate and position it on one of the shelves near the front door.

  Now, as we finish cleaning the kitchen for the night, I’m finally able to let go of the stresses of the day and focus on putting some food in my stomach.

  “Can we still order burgers from across the street?” he asks, his face lighting up with excitement.

  “Sure,” I mumble, tossing my washcloth in the bin I’ll take home tonight with dirty towels and rags.

  At the mention of burgers, my mind instantly goes to Jasper. I haven’t seen him since he stormed out of here Tuesday morning, which suits me just fine. He has this uncanny ability to easily get under my skin, and the last thing I want or need this week is added anxiety. Plus, though I’d never admit to this out loud, I’ve thought of him plenty throughout the last several days and have been struggling to evict him from my daydreams. His handsome face. Those dark, alluring eyes. Big hands that promise amazing skills in the kitchen and dirtier ones in the bedroom.

  Seeing him would only make those images worse.

  I walk up front, double-check the lock on the front door, and flip out the lights, leaving only one strip on, over the counter. Isaac’s the one who actually suggested it when he stopped by yesterday to see the progress. They’re directly over the cash register, plus shine just a touch in the kitchen. If someone was inside, they would be easy to spot from the road. Makes complete sense, and I’m incredibly grateful for the suggestion.

  Before I head back to the kitchen, I can’t help but stop and stare at the name on the window. I can’t believe it’s finally here. All the planning, the tears, the apprehension. The late evenings, early mornings, and sleepless nights. Worrying and wondering if it would ever come together, and now it’s time. In just three short days, the doors will be open, and I’ll be selling my own baked goods to the residents of Stewart Grove.

  I catch movement across the street and turn my focus to the couple walking into Burgers and Brew. There’s a group of people standing by the door, clearly waiting on a table. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll eventually have the same kind of success. Customers lining up, waiting for their chance to have a table. Only my customers will be vying for one of my gooey cinnamon rolls or a slice of my famous pecan pie. They’ll be lined up to the door, spilling onto the sidewalk out front.

  Hey, a girl can dream, right?

  “I check their social media page, and tonight’s hamburger special is called the Panty Melter. It’s loaded with four kinds of cheeses. Can we eat there?” Dustin asks, his brown eyes full of anticipation.

  “They look pretty busy, Dust. It may be easier to take it to-go,” I suggest, but the moment I see disappointment in his eyes, I wish I could recant my statement.

  “Oh, yeah, you’re probably right. It’s seven on a Friday,” he concedes, turning to grab his coat off the hook by the back door. I can tell by the way he’s walking he overdid it today. Dustin worked hard and only took breaks when I forced him to sit. Now, he’s relying on his walker more and could probably use his wheelchair.

  “Well,” I start, glancing across the street through the front window. “We could see how busy they are. If there’s only a short wait, we can stay.”

  He offers me a big smile. “Deal.”

  “But I think you should take the chair, Dust. You busted ass today.”

  He opens his mouth to argue, but I can tell he sees merit in my suggestion. “Yeah, all right,” he replies, reaching for his chair and getting himself settled. He wheels himself to the door and waits for me.

  I button up my peacoat and wrap a scarf around my neck, grateful for the touch of warmth it provides. After slipping my gloves on my hands, I open the door so Dustin can exit and make sure it’s locked behind me.

  We head down the alley to the sidewalk. Fortunately, there’s no snow or slush left, just bitter cold temperatures. There’s little traffic, so we’re able to cut across the street quickly. I pull open the heavy wooden door and am greeted with warmth, laughter, and an amazing aroma.

  I step aside, making sure Dustin gets in with his chair. The couple I watched walk in earlier moves a little, allowing my brother to easily maneuver the entry.

  “May I help you?” the hostess asks with a friendly smile.

  “How long for a table for two?” I ask, glancing around the room.

  “Not long at all,” she replies, glancing at her computer screen. “I have a handicap accessible table being cleaned now. Five minutes?” she offers, earning me a nod in reply.

  The couple waiting is taken to a booth, leaving just my brother and I at the front. “Only a few minutes,” I tell Dustin, earning me a smile in return.

  I take in the ambiance and the fast pace of the restaurant. Dark woodwork, with a combination of booths and tables. There are three or four servers taking care of them, most of which are filled with happy customers. The food, from what I can see from here, looks amazing and smells even better, causing my stomach to growl loudly.

  This burger joint is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

  “If you’ll follow me,” the hostess suggests, grabbing two menus and making her way down the wide main aisle. She leads us to a small table for two along the wall, one of the chairs already removed. It’s near the wide doorway that leads to the bar, so there’s plenty of room for my brother’s wheelchair at the table, and we don’t have to worry about anyone sitting behind him. “Tonight’s special is the Panty Melter burger, hand pressed and grilled to order, topped with cheddar, Monterey Jack, colby, and smoked Gouda, served with freshly cut steak fries. Your server will be with you shortly.”

  The moment she leaves us, I moan in pure pleasure. “That sounds amazing,” I mumble, praying no one else heard my excited little noise.

  “That’s what I’m getting,” Dustin informs, but peruses the menu to be sure. After only a few seconds, he busts out laughing. “Lyn, check out the names of the burgers.”

  I open my menu and gasp. They’re so…sexy. Strip and Go Naked, Ride A Cowboy, and “Up All Night” are the first three on the list, and I find them fascinating. “Holy shit,” I whisper, scanning the rest of the selections and taking in their ridiculous names.

  “Right? What a brilliant marketing plan,” Dustin boasts.

  “Thank you.”

  Startled, I look up into Jameson’s hard, dark eyes. Though, once I give him a slow smile, he seems to relax those stress lines. There’s something different about this man. You can tell he’s gruffer, and quite possibly had a rougher life than most. He wears
his no-bullshit demeaner like a protective shield, one that tells people to stay back and leave him alone, but I don’t think that’s who he really is, what he’s really about. Of course, I have only two small encounters to base my opinion off of, but I really don’t think he’s as bad as he leads people to believe.

  “Though, I can’t take credit for the names. It was actually Jasper’s demented mind that came up with them. Numbers was afraid they were too risqué, but turns out, we live in a town with a bunch of dirty bastards,” he adds with a crooked smile.

  Dustin and I both chuckle. I also notice the use of the nickname they gave Isaac years ago. Jameson told me about it after they helped us move the furniture at the bakery. Over a chocolate scone, he informed us about Isaac’s passion for numbers, which ultimately led them to giving him the nicknames Numbers or Newton, for Isaac Newton.

  “They’re definitely clever and unforgettable,” I agree, closing my menu and setting it aside.

  Just then, our server arrives at the table. “Hey, guys. Welcome to Burgers and Brew. Can I get you a drink?” she asks politely, giving Jameson a quick nervous grin.

  “I’ll have an ice water, no lemon,” I tell her.

  “And for you?” she asks my brother.

  “Bud Light, please.” He glances up at me. “You sure you don’t want a drink? One won’t hurt, especially this early.” I know he means well, but his suggestion slices at my heart.

  Dustin and I have gone round and round about this in the past. When we go out somewhere, I don’t drink. I refuse to get behind the wheel, even after having just one sip. I won’t risk him or anyone else on the road for a beer or a glass of wine. Not when my whole world was shattered by someone who thought it was okay to drink and drive. That will never be me.

  “I’m okay, thank you,” I reply politely, hating the way my heart thunders in my chest.

  “Okay, I’ll be back with your drinks,” she states, turning to head away.

  “Bring them some of the curds, will ya, Jani?” Jameson suggests to the server.

  “I’ll put in the order, Tank.” Then she disappears toward the back of the restaurant.

  “Tank?” I ask, a hint of a smile on my lips.

  He shakes his head. “Nickname. My last name is Tankersley. Everyone calls me Tank but the guys. Oh, and don’t worry about the curds. Those are my treat.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I argue, but am cut off.

  “My treat,” he replies with a little more authority. “They’re my favorite, and I don’t just buy curds for anyone, you know. They’re Wisconsin cheese curds with a zesty ranch dipping sauce. Way better than that wing franchise has,” he states with a grin. “You don’t drink?” he asks casually, leaning against the doorway behind my brother.

  “Oh, uh, I do,” I reply softly. “Our mom, she, well, she died four years ago from a drunk driver. I only drink at home.”

  He nods in understanding. “I get that and totally respect it. Sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, my eyes locked on Dustin’s. Neither of us are big drinkers, but my brother does enjoy a beer every now and again. Since he can’t drive, he has a little more liberty to do so than I do, which suits me just fine.

  “Hey, have you met Walker yet?” Jameson asks, standing up straight and turning toward the bar. “Yo, Walk, come here a second.”

  I glance around his big frame to see another man get up from a pub table and head our way. He’s tall, dark, and quite handsome, really, but what catches my attention is the woman and small girl still sitting at the table.

  “Walk, this is Lyndee and Dustin from the bakery across the street,” Jameson says. “This is Walker Meyer, the fourth owner we told you about. He runs the bar side of the business.”

  Walker steps forward and holds out a hand. “You made that basket of goodies? I had to tackle this guy just to get my hands on an éclair,” he says with a laugh.

  I shake his big, warm hand and return his chuckle. “Well, thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Definitely. Jameson and Numbers raved about them when they returned. Sorry I couldn’t help that morning. Lizzie had a dentist appointment and was nervous, so I went along,” he says, pointing over his shoulder to the little blonde with curly pigtails. She’s dipping fries in ketchup and offers a wave. “I’ll introduce you to Mal and Lou before they leave. Mal has been dying for you to open since I told her about your bakery.”

  Before I can respond, inviting them all over for free pastries whenever they want, as a thank you, another shadow falls on our table. “Hey, I thought that was you two. Welcome to Burgers and Brew,” Isaac says, squeezing my brother on the shoulder.

  “Thanks!” Dustin replies eagerly. “We’re excited to be here.”

  Our server returns with our drinks, but it’s a tight fit. She has to carefully maneuver her way through the growing crowd around our small table of two. But even though there are people standing around us, it’s not overly crowded. They’re not overshadowing the tables around us, making anyone uncomfortable with their presence. “Are you ready to order?” she asks.

  “We are,” I state. “I’ll have the Panty Melter.” My cheeks blush under the watchful eyes of the owners.

  “Me too,” Dustin adds, handing off our menus.

  “I’ll get those right in. And your appetizer will be out any moment.”

  We chat for a few minutes, the guys falling into an easy teasing as they tell my brother and me more about opening the business. Jameson even elaborates with greater details about the brewery next door. Their excitement and energy are contagious, and as someone who’s been embarking on the exact same journey, I feel a kinship to these men. They understand.

  Just as they start to tell a horribly embarrassing Jasper story from college, a fourth shadow falls over the table. “Well, I should have known I’d find you all standing around, not working.”

  My wide eyes fly upward and slam into dark, mesmerizing ones. They’re narrowed into slits and radiating enough annoyance to power a submarine. Yet, when my heartbeat kicks up, it’s in elation, not displeasure. Plus, my breathing does that weird little hitch it only does when he’s near. Everyone around the table says something, but I don’t hear their words. All I can do is focus on the imposing, gorgeous man standing beside me.

  Jasper’s here.

  Chapter Seven

  Jasper

  When Jani came back to retrieve the cheese curds, I overheard her mention to my dinner shift assistant chef, Doug, that she had to deliver them to a table where all the other owners are standing, talking to a young couple. She wondered if it was a sibling to one of them, but something told me it wasn’t. Call it my Spidey-sense, or my Lyndee-sense.

  Everything started tingling.

  I told her I’d deliver the order, barely gave Doug a backward glance when I said, “Watch the grill for a minute,” and bolted for the door, despite the fact we were stacked up with tons of dinner orders and he has his own job to do.

  I press through the doorway, dodge a surprised server, and head for my friends. The first thing I spot is the wheelchair, confirming my suspicions of who’s here. As I approach, I hear laughter, particularly Lyndee’s. It’s like an angel’s call, beckoning me to the Promised Land.

  “I swear to God, I’ve never seen his bare ass move that quickly from a bedroom window before in my life,” Walker says, causing a ruckus from the entire group and me to stop in my tracks.

  I know that story.

  Bastards!

  “Hey, man. Whatcha doing out here?” Jameson asks, pulling everyone’s attention my way.

  “Delivering appetizers,” I reply, grinding my teeth so hard I swear I crack a molar.

  I step forward and set the curds down on the table, taking in everyone’s positions. Walker is standing beside Isaac, behind where Dustin sits, and Jameson stands directly beside Lyndee. His arm dangles mere centimeters away from her arm.

  I almost growl.

  He
r stunning brown eyes widen, and Jameson snorts a laugh, letting me know I may not have actually contained the possessive noise.

  I give Lyndee a quick smile and turn to her brother. “Good to see you.”

  “You too. We’re excited to be here,” Dustin replies, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

  “What did you order?” I ask, giving him my complete attention.

  “Lyn and I both got the Panty Melter,” he states, reaching for his beer.

  “Excellent choice. I’ll make sure they’re extra gooey,” I retort, turning a cocky grin Lyndee’s way.

  “And Jameson ordered us these cheese curds. He said they were his favorite,” she replies innocently, taking one of the pieces of breaded cheese and popping it in her mouth.

  My eyes instantly narrow and zero in on my friend. “Did he?” I comment, staring down Jameson.

  He only laughs, clearly not fazed by my annoyed glare. “They are my favorite,” he declares with a shrug and a wicked grin.

  “Well, as fun as this is, I’m going back over to Mal and Lizzie to finish our dinner. Lyndee, we’ll stop by on their way out and I’ll introduce you,” Walker states, turning and making his way back to where his girls are waiting.

  “I’m going to check on the reservation list. Lyndee, Dustin, enjoy your meal. It’s on the house tonight,” Isaac announces.

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. We’re happy to support another local business,” Lyndee insists.

  “No way, not after those goodies you sent us. Tonight, it’s on the house,” he states before giving them a wave and walking off.

  Jameson, the asshole he is, seems to just get comfortable. The fucker just smirks, overlaps his left foot over his right, and relaxes into his stance, arms crossed over his chest.

  “Well, I should get back to the kitchen.” Before I turn, my gaze catches hers and I swear the entire room can hear the thunder of my heart trying to beat out of my chest. I’m certain Lyndee can, maybe even feel the heavy thump from three feet away. “Enjoy your dinner.”