Her Carolinian drawl is on point as she says, “Well, I most certainly won’t turn down the chance to belt out a little Reba.”

“Here we go,” Maren says with a smile. “Last time we had to practically drag her away.”

Lorelai narrows her dark brown eyes, perfectly winged in black liner. “That was nearly three years ago, and I was in my Carrie Underwood stage.”

A bunch of guys dressed in Michigan State colors come in and sit on the other side of Maren, distracting her from any response. It takes them approximately thirty seconds to offer to buy her next round. It’s the closest thing I’ve ever seen to real magic, honestly. Maren attracts attention in a pair of baggy overalls, but in a minidress and espadrilles, she’s irresistible. She looks to me as if to check.

“You’re not driving. Go for it.”

“Wow, that was fast,” Cameron says, impressed.

“That’s Maren,” I reply. “She’s like frat-boy catnip. It’s the heady combination of beauty queen and park ranger. There’s no stopping that train.”

“I think it’s safe to say, it’s all three of you.” He gestures at where Lorelai is flipping through a binder of song choices, two more frat-boy types jumping over themselves to catch her eye. She idly flips her dark waves, revealing a tanned, bare shoulder. I hide my smile. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

I shrug, taking a sip from my straw. “I have hot friends.” I let my eyes linger on his muscular form. “Have I mentioned today how well you’ve grown up, Cameron Riggs?” He reddens under his beard and I continue, teasing. “Like, have we discussed this beard recently? Because”—I make a show fanning myself—“it works for you.”

He shuts his eyes, as if he’s in pain, then shakes his head, raising his voice to Kevin. “Excuse me! I’d like to file a claim for sexual harassment in the workplace!”

Kevin nudges his glasses primly. “You don’t work here.”

“Beth! Help!” Cameron tries.

“Oh no,” Beth apologizes dryly. “Thoughts and prayers.” She passes him a drink. “If it helps, I’ll put it on her tab.”

I grin. “Cheers, Beth.” Turning to Cameron, I pat the stool next to me that Maren left open when one of the guys she was talking to asked her to join them at their table. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

He makes a show of covering his glass with his palm. “Okay, but I’m watching you.”

Fair.

He presses close, his voice low and making the little hairs on my arms stand up. “You look delicious tonight.”

I inhale sharply at his suggestive tone and cross my legs at the knee.