Chloe glanced around and shook her head, and my guess was that she was worried about who she might run into. It was a fair enough worry, as half our clientele were people we’d known all our lives, and some of those were on Chloe’s list of people she thought didn’t like her. I was confident that most of the people who’d given her trouble over the years had matured and would treat her fairly now, but that would take time for her to believe.

While my head was still close to hers, she caught my arm and said, so no one else could hear, “Should we act engaged?”

“You tell me,” I said.

Instead of telling me, she kissed me, a quick hello kiss that ended up lingering for a couple of extra seconds. I was pretty sure that was her doing, not mine, and it had that curiosity from last night rearing its head again.

I didn’t have time to ruminate on it, because Dakota hollered out, “Bossy Boss,” irreverently, as she often did, and nodded to Kona’s drink, which she’d put in the servers’ area at the other end.

As I nodded at the bartender, I noticed Lucy Whitmore at one of the high-top tables, eyeing me—us—speculatively. Let the rumor mill begin.

“Duty calls,” I told Chloe as I stood. “I’ll be done in half an hour or so. Take your time and enjoy your food.”

“Impossible not to,” she said, her cheeks slightly flushed, maybe from the kiss, maybe from all the bodies and the warmth of the room and the top-notch food.

Cash might have asshole tendencies, but he produced magic in the kitchen on a daily basis. I was man enough to acknowledge that he was the reason Henry’s was becoming a destination restaurant. Seth was our business manager, our eight-to-fiver, in charge of operations, paying the bills, keeping the lights on, that kind of thing, and that was his strength. The marketing that helped spread the word about Cash’s high-caliber food was also thanks to our cerebral middle brother.

The three of us had strengths to complement each other, or so that’s what everyone said. With Cash and Seth, I could see it. All I did was hire, fire, schedule staff, make sure things ran smoothly outside of the kitchen. I didn’t consider it a particular skill set, though Seth insisted it was, that my social skills were invaluable. To me, that sounded like bullshit to make the youngest brother want to keep contributing and not feel like a loser.

I was all about contributing, but I wanted to do more. I believed I could help continue to build Henry’s reputation as being worth the drive from miles around with the addition of a brewery. Someday. I was tired of being the guy who didn’t add anything unique, didn’t pull his weight in running the place.