“It’s that good, eh?”
I licked my lips and felt heat creep up on my face. Not realizing I had closed my eyes, I tentatively opened them and glanced at the bartender, who was looking at me more intensely than before. “Oh, I didn’t mean to do that aloud.” Picking up my napkin, I dabbed the corner of my mouth. “Give my complements to the chef. It’s incredible. I’d love to get the recipe.”
He leaned on the counter. “I’ll let the chef know. I know him pretty well, and I’d say if he could get that type of reaction out of every beautiful woman who ate the stew, he’d serve it all the time versus only on special occasions.”
The bartender moved a little closer to me and I smiled at his playful face while wanting to reach out and trace that devastatingly handsome jaw line. Conspiringly, he whispered, “I’ve heard that the recipe is a family secret. You’d have to marry the chef in order to get it.”
I giggled as he winked at me. “Okay, if I get that desperate to have it, I’ll know to bring a ring and my bended knee.”
He chuckled and stood. “So, what brings you to Savannah?”
“Is this where I lay all my troubles on the line for the bartender to listen and give advice?” I teased with him as I cocked my head.
He shrugged as he mixed a drink. The bar was otherwise vacated except one person at the end who nursed a beer. “I happen to listen and give advice free on Wednesday’s.”
My smile was wide. There was something magnetic about this man and I didn’t want our conversation to end. “Well, it’s a good thing it’s Wednesday.”
“Yes, it is.”
A waitress got his attention at the other end of the bar. I finished my stew as he walked over and handed the woman three beers. When he returned, a margarita was set in front of me. “Drink up while you tell me what brought you here.”
Taking a sip, allowing the sweet to mix with the salt, I thought about what to say. This felt like the typical cliché I saw in movies where you spill your guts to a guy you didn’t even know. “Well, my life has turned upside down in the last week. My Aunt Leelyn died of a heart attack and I broke up with my boyfriend the day of the funeral. It’s been an adjustment, but I think I’m now headed in the right direction. For almost the last year, my life hasn’t felt like my own.”
His hand reached out and touched the top of m
ine. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know how difficult it can be. I lost my grandfather last year.” The bartender’s voice was sincere.
The contact of his hand caused tingles and warmth to spread through my veins. I swallowed hard and looked up, wanting to keep the touch, but not wanting to seem overly anxious, and let’s face it … crazy.
After a few seconds, I responded, “Thank you. We were close. She was a historian and loved family history. I’m living in her place on Oglethorpe until I decide what to do, since breaking up with my boyfriend essentially left me homeless. But, the breakup was a long time coming. We had different ambitions. He wanted success, I wanted love.” I shrugged.
“Well, I’d say he was a fool to not realize having love wasn’t the greatest success of all.”
He removed his hand and I wished he would put it back. Instead, I took my fingers and tucked my escaped golden-blonde hair behind my ears. “What’s your name? If I’m pouring my heart out, I should at least know your name. I’m Ashlin.”
He extended his hand. “Hey, Ashlin. I’m Gael.”
I looked down and tried to calm the butterflies in my stomach. “Are you the same Gael that this fine establishment is named after?”
“I am. I’m also the chef. We were shorthanded today, so once I got things rolling in the kitchen, I became the bartender.” Gael’s handshake elicited those warm tingles again. I loved how strong he felt.
Shaking my head in amusement and smiling, I responded, “So, if I want that recipe for the stew, I need to come to you with a ring?”
“And a bended knee. Don’t forget the bended knee. That recipe has been in my family for generations and my mother would kill me if I didn’t keep it a secret. I thought I was going to have to pledge my firstborn to get permission to serve it here at the restaurant.” The man at the end of the bar signaled Gael. “I’ll be right back.”
I watched how he moved with an easy confidence. My heart had never felt this jittery before. He’s only giving you advice. I just broke up with Harris. My aunt just died. This was too soon to be checking out a guy. My subconscious felt guilty and I tamped it down at the thought of how crazy I was acting. Gael returned.
“So, let me know if you want my ring size.”
My grin involuntarily stretched across my face and he returned the gesture. I loved Gael’s smile. It reached his eyes.
“I will. With my Aunt Leelyn being a historian, I get preserving things like your recipe. My Aunt Leelyn found a journal from my great-great-great-grandmother, Sophia. I read part of it before I came down here. It’s what prompted me to order the beef stew. Sophia had eaten something similar. Strange, I know. Anyway, I’m rambling now. But, I think it’s special you guys have kept the recipe a family tradition all these years. I bet you’ve been offered money for your recipe.”
Gael watched me keenly. “I like when you ramble.”
And I like that he likes that I ramble. More so than I should.
He kept staring at me and looked like he was going to say something else when someone called his name from the other side of the restaurant. Gael let out a breath. “It was nice meeting you, Ashlin. The bartender for the next shift just arrived, and duty calls in the kitchen. Consider this meal on the house. Comes with the listening ear. I hope to see you around sometime soon.”