Belmont Inn

Welcome to the Belmont Inn

05:50 am

A raucous crowd tottered into the foyer, uncharacteristic giggles escaping the towering, burly men. Donned in variants of heavy metal streetwear, they shuffled into the nearest booth. Sara perceived the bunch openly as she wiped the bar top, the citrus disinfectant lacing her grasp.

She tucked the apparatus as Eddie rose in pique across the counter. "I'll get it." He muttered, languidly assembling menus.

Sara grasped the coffee pot perched upon the counter and gathered four ceramic cups. "No, I'll get it."

The lanky waiter sighed. "Thanks, you're a doll."

A pair of glazed eyes perceived her as she verged on the reclusive booth at the perimeter of the room. The blonde's tresses, perhaps lengthier than her own, lay secured in a haphazard knot. A hulking, booted foot tapped at hardwood erratically as he designated her an unadulterated stare. Across the bench, a lankier fella shoved his drowsy companion off his shoulder. "Sod off, Adam."

Adam tiredly grunted.

Sara plonked the flask atop the oak tabletop with a thud, instigating four confounded glares. "Coffee?"

An unruly thatch of sable waves bopped as the brawny mass besides Man-bun Ken shifted, dilating hazel eyes blinking up at her. "I'll have your finest Scotch on the rocks, thanks."

Sara returned his stare, entranced. "If you'd like alcohol at breakfast, I'm afraid you're going to have to order a mimosa."

A frown marred his sensuous lips, his accent thickening and dimples pursing as he mumbled gruffly. "Mimosas' 're for sissies."

Languidly, Adam contributed. "Orange juice good."

Nearest to her, Man-Bun Ken on steroids grazed the frilly hem of her skirt. Sara veered out of reach.

Tall Dark and Handsome sulked beside him. "I don't want Mimosas."

She tapped the carafe. "Coffee?"

He blinked at her, a wayward curl impeding his gaze. "I don't want coffee."

Sara regarded his bloodshot stare. Her lips twitched. "I think you do."

An inked forearm thwarted his, delineating the bulking form underlaying his leather jacket. "Don't be an ass, Ash." To her right, Man-Bun grinned impishly. "He'll have that coffee, darlin'. So will I."

Sara sedately poured all four dissidents a mug. "Not your darlin'."

The disorientated crew plucked unruly doses of sugar from the central cruet stand. The laden stirring uncorked the nutty aroma of the caffeine, diffusing the group's initial trail of stale beer.

She seized the canteen in endeavour to lift it as a callous palm darted to halt her. "Leave it." Man-Bun chimed smoothly, his sensuous grasp caressing her knuckles. "We'll need the lot of it."

Sara expressly raised a brow and slipped out of his grasp. "Uh huh."

Adam groaned into his mug. "Orange juice?"

His lankier companion blinked. "Breakfast, you said? What time is it?"

Tall Dark and Handsome fleetingly flashed his dimples. "Eggs and bacon?"

Sara blinked, once more enthralled by the sight. "Uh, about ten minutes to six. And yes, I can get that for you."

Collective contended mumbles resounded, each chirping muddled orders in unison. Her stare remained on the sable headed bruiser as he leisurely sipped his caffeine. His gaze encountered hers through the beguiling veil of his overgrown curls.