Take the Bait (Beach Babes)

Chapter 1

1

H anna’s finger hovered over the “delete” button.

Without hesitating, she removed the dating app from her phone.

Underneath the table.

Unseen by her date—who was 15 minutes into explaining why crypto was the future of finance.

Barf.

She wanted a life partner as much as the next person, but there was only so much a girl could go through.

Dating apps helped some people find their happily ever after.

But not Hanna.

Her dating history was a mosaic of men who left her wondering if she was being punked.

There was Scott, the good-looking real estate agent with too-white teeth, who never asked her a single question about herself.

Then there was Cooper, the software engineer, who was ?somewhere around 5’7” but insisted he was 6’?.

And who could forget Seth—the dog groomer who invited her back to his van for sex and told her they could use the extra collars he had to make things “spicy.”

Then there were the dozens of disgusting messages she got from men every day.

“Do you have a breeding kink? Maybe we can find out together.”

“Are you a nice girl? I’m not trying to date anymore bitches.”

“I can’t tell if you’re hot or not. Your photos aren’t ?giving me the full picture.”

And then there was Josh—the idiot she was out with now—who had not stopped talking since they sat down. She didn’t know a person could string that many words together without pause. At least Hanna was learning something today.

Where her phone still sat under the table, she pulled up the group chat with her sister, Bella, and best friend, Madi, entitled breadstick broads —so named because the last time they were together they ate so many Olive Garden breadsticks that their waiter thought they were stashing them in their purses.

Hanna: Remind me again why I let y’all convince me to download a dating app?

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Madi: Because you have needs

Hanna: My needs certainly aren’t being met on the date from hell

Bella: That bad?

Hanna: Worse

Bella : Sorry Han. Call us later if you want

Madi: Get a free meal first though.

Grinning, Hanna looked back up at Josh, who was still blabbing on as if he had a captive audience and not a miserable date.

She’d started entertaining herself by doing more and more ridiculous things, just to see if it would get him to stop talking. She began by using a straw to blow bubbles into her drink— something one of her kindergartners might do. Harmless, but weird for an adult to do on a first date. She got no reaction from him. He just kept talking.

“If you’re not investing in crypto, you’re ?leaving money on the table,” Josh droned on. “I mean, have I seen a return on my investment yet? No, but it’s about playing the long game. I mean, a guy like me knows how to be patient.”

He raised his eyebrows suggestively. Hanna grimaced.

Dear God, make it stop , Hanna thought.

She heaved a deep, over dramatic sigh, wondering if that would ?elicit a response from Josh. But he barreled on, telling her in great detail about his investment portfolio and how a friend of his followed his lead and they’d be rolling in the dough?.

It was time for Hanna to up her game.

Get really unhinged.

She picked up her silverware setup and grabbed where the napkin enclosed it, then unceremoniously dumped all her cutlery out. Her fork, knife, and spoon hit the table with loud clinks, startling the people one table over, their heads snapping in her direction.

Still, Josh kept talking.

Hanna grabbed her phone from her pocket, not caring about being discreet this time. She opened up her camera, held it up high, and took a selfie—making a duck face like it was 2009.

“And, erm,” Josh spluttered for a moment, eyes briefly darting to her phone. Then he got back to it. “Anyway, like I was saying, blockchain technology is the future…”

Another failed attempt to shut him up.

It was time to bring out the big guns.

Hanna was going to burp.

She’d been able to burp on command for most of her life, which was her father’s crowning accomplishment and her mother’s deepest shame. She’d often entertained her dad by burping the alphabet on road trips, and once burped the Pledge of Allegiance in her homeschool co-op’s talent show.

But if she was really going to throw him off, she needed this burp to be a doozy. She picked up her Shirley Temple and started to chug as Josh droned on, now having moved onto talking about his latest golf game.

Hanna’s throat started burning with how fast she was drinking the soda, but she pushed through. This burp was going to be massive.

Shrek-level massive.

She felt absolutely diabolical.

Their appetizer was placed in front of them, set down by a man in a tight, black shirt with an impressive sleeve of tattoos and a kind smile.

She felt her cheeks redden just looking at him.

Hanna’s plan started to feel a little ridiculous.

Hold it in, she told herself.

She was absolutely not going to embarrass herself in front of their waiter—who probably was also a model—by releasing the beastly burp inside her.

Nope. No way.

Even if she exploded because of all the gas inside her begging to be let out.

Even if it was the last thing she did, Hanna would hold this burp in until he left.

Josh picked up a shrimp and dipped it in the sauce, then scowled.

“What is this?” Josh asked, disdain dripping from his voice.

“It’s our shrimp cocktail, sir,” the sexy waiter responded, his brown eyes crinkling into a patient smile.

“This is not shrimp cocktail. I’d like to speak to the chef.”

Hanna’s jaw dropped, then she snapped it shut so the burp didn’t accidentally sneak out.

What an asshole. Yep, this was definitely in the top five worst dates she’d ever been on.

“I’m the chef, sir.”

Hanna’s eyes panned back to where the waiter was standing.

Okay, so he was a sexy chef now.

That definitely didn’t help matters.

“ You’re the chef?” Josh asked.

“The chef, the owner, your waiter,” he responded. “Small business life, you know. I wear many hats.”

Hanna felt like her chest was expanding with the belch she was holding back as her eyes ping-ponged between the two men.

“Then you should know this isn’t shrimp cocktail,” Josh said, his tone laced with condescension.

“You’re right, it’s not a traditional shrimp cocktail,” the chef/owner/waiter responded, biting back a smile in a way that made his sharp jawline tighten. “It’s our special shrimp cocktail. Instead of your classic cocktail sauce, it has our famous awesome sauce. Takes kind of a fun twist on cocktail sauce.”

Don’t burp. Don’t burp. Don’t burp.

Conspiratorially to Hanna, he added, “Old family recipe. Promised Granny on her deathbed I’d never tell anyone what’s in it. So don’t try to get it out of me, shortcake.”

She grinned at him, bemused that he seemed to be taking none of this very seriously.

And that he was bold enough to poke fun at her height, which must’ve been extremely obvious if he could tell she was five-foot-nothing just by looking at her sitting at a table.

Maybe it was the way her feet barely touched the floor that tipped him off.

Certainly wasn’t the first time she’d been called shortcake.

Despite the amusement, the urge to burp was only growing stronger. Her throat constricted, and her eyes started burning.

You. Will. Not. Burp.

Josh scoffed. “This isn’t Granny’s kitchen. If you have shrimp cocktail on the menu, people will expect cocktail sauce.”

Her date shook his head and rolled his eyes, locking contact with Hanna for a brief moment as if to say, Can you believe this guy?

She raised her eyebrows at him.

He thought she was on his side? Seriously?

“We actually haven’t run into that problem,” Sexy Chef quipped. “The menu says that we use awesome sauce instead of cocktail sauce, but people can always ask for cocktail sauce if that’s what they prefer. Maybe you missed that note on the menu. Regardless, I’d be happy to bring you some cocktail sauce.”

Hanna bit her lip and covered her mouth with her hand—partly to wipe away the smile, but mostly as added defense against the belch building within her.

Of course Josh hadn’t reviewed the menu thoroughly enough to realize what exactly he was ordering. He’d barely shut up long enough for her to order her drink. Hadn’t even commented on the fact that she’d ordered a Shirley Temple, of all things, in a desperate attempt to get him to ask a question about her.

Josh’s cheeks reddened. “That’s not necessary. I think we’ll just pay for our check and head back to my place.”

He waggled his eyebrows at Hanna meaningfully.

Hold it in, hold it in, hold it ? —

She busted out laughing.

She couldn’t help it.

This man had talked for the last 30 minutes straight. He hadn’t even bought her dinner or given her the chance to have a bite of the shrimp cocktail he ordered.

And now he thought she was heading back to his place?

Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her stomach.

“Oh my god, I’m getting a cramp,” she said breathily between laughs.

The chef was staring at her, an amused grin playing on his lips.

Josh looked confused and frustrated. “Well, if you stop laughing, we can head back now.”

This started another round of laughter for Hanna. “Oh my god, stop it, I’m gonna pee my pants.”

“What’s so funny?

“You—think—I’m—” Hanna lost it again, unable to recover and find her words.

“I can’t understand you.” Josh sighed.

“I’ll take a stab at it,” Sexy Chef chimed in. “I think this woman seems to find it hilarious that you think she’s going home with you. Am I right?”

Sexy Chef looked at her with a quirked brow, and Hanna started nodding and pointing at him, still laughing too hard to say anything. She looked back at Josh, who appeared hurt.

She started feeling bad, her giggles dwindling, until he said, “I thought we had a nice connection.”

Hanna wailed with laughter, even harder than before.

And then, the unthinkable happened.

She burped.

She burped.

It was a burp that spanned across time zones, across planes, across dimensions.

A burp so loud—so legendary —that people throughout the restaurant stopped their talking to see what the commotion was.

Part of her wished her dad was there to see it.

But only a small part.

Because most of her was mortified within an inch of her life.

As the last stretches of the belch exited her body, she covered her mouth with her hands and felt her eyes widen.

Josh and Sexy Chef stared at her, jaws hanging loose.

“Ugh, disgusting,” Josh finally said. “I can’t believe I ever wanted to introduce you to my mom.”

He got up and left the table.

And then, Sexy Chef tipped his head back and laughed—almost as hard as Hanna had been laughing earlier.

So she did the only rational thing one could do in this situation.

She took her wallet out, tossed a $20 on the table, and ran.