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Send Lawyers, Guns, and Roses
Max said, “Orfeo’s making breakfast. Waffles for you. Tofu for us, unless you’d like some?”
Hunter suppressed a shudder. Tofu, yuck. “Waffles sound perfect.” He sniffed at the coffee smell and headed to the do-it-yourself station set up with carafes, lighteners, sweeteners, and cups. He liked it black, nice and simple, and took a careful hot sip. “Oh, my God, this is so good.”
“Jamaican Blue Mountain,” Max said. “It’s the best.”
Max came out from behind the bar with four full juice glasses on a tray, and Hunter stared for a moment before looking away. Long tanned legs covered in dark hair, navy blue short-shorts, and a thin white Kashmir shirt with long sleeves. Dark-haired, doe-eyed Max appeared more subdued than when they had first met, but he was definitively as attractive as his sister. More, for his masculine grace. No jewelry today, except for a beaded rainbow ankle bracelet above one sneaker. Hunter stepped aside as Max moved two little bar tables together and deftly set for four with silverware, napkins, and plates.
“We’ve got the bar to ourselves this morning,” Max said.
“We really appreciate this. Every day here has been fantastic. It’s a beautiful place.”
“Hey, Max!” Alex walked in cocky and smiling, two pairs of sunglasses perched on top of his head, two hats in his hand. He handed Hunter his hat and sunglasses and made for the coffee carafes. Max watched him, eyes a little wide. He looked away. Hunter suppressed a smile. Alex was still the sexiest man in the room.