“I’ve done this rodeo before, but I kind of find it hard to work while I talk, especially while I’m still learning the ins and outs of someplace new.” She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.

He cocked his head, the same as Muffin liked to do. “So I need to stop distracting you. Is that what you’re implying?”

“It’s what I’m outright saying… sir.” She added the sign marker of respect after an unnaturally long pause, but it seemed the best way to remind him of their positions. Surely he wouldn’t want to date an employee, especially if O’Brien’s actually needed the extra help as badly as Jolene had claimed.

He crossed his arms over his chest and studied her for a moment without speaking, then he licked his lips and said, “Why don’t you take a few minutes to get acquainted with the menu? Jolene will be here soon, and then she can walk you through the rest.”

She nodded and paced her way back toward the hostess stand to grab one of the oversized menus, then sank into the nearest booth and opened it up.

Nolan watched her every movement until he finally—finally!—returned to the back of the house to work on getting the kitchen ready for breakfast.

Though she did her best to learn the ingredients in each dish, the words blurred before her eyes. The last time a man had paid such close attention to her, it had turned into the stormy relationship that had sent her running straight out of Alabama.

Chapter 15

Pator Adam

When I called Mrs. Clementine this morning to check in on our visitor, she informed me that our girl had found a job working at O’Brien’s. Seeing as I hadn’t treated myself to a meal out in quite some time, I decided to pay her a visit around about eleven o’clock when I knew most of the crowd would be cleared out and she’d have some time to talk.

“Morning, Pastor Adam!” Jolene Brown called with two giant heaps of pancakes stacked high on her tray. “Take a seat and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

I waved hello and then took a seat in a booth toward the back of the restaurant.

Harmony found me not two minutes later. “Virginia told you about my job,” she said, tapping her fingers at the edge of my table before grabbing a little notepad from her apron and a pen from behind her ear. “What can I get you to eat?”

I declined the menu she offered. “Whatever you recommend,” I told her with a smile I hoped she’d find reassuring.

She scrunched her mouth to one side, then said, “I don’t know enough to recommend anything, although judging from the rush today, our French toast seems to be quite well received.”

I laughed. French toast at an Irish restaurant—of all the things! Well, to each their own. “That sounds great,” I told her. “How has your first day been?”