Pleasure Train by Christelle Mirin

Chapter One
     
    “You look like you either got laid last night or you desperately need to,” Sue whispered in Willow’s ear.
    Sue sure had a way with words. Willow turned away from the counter and yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. It was almost nine in the morning, and she was still having trouble waking up.
    “Willow, what is wrong with you? Didn’t you sleep?” Sue leaned past her, placing a cup of coffee in front of Stu, the mechanic from across the street.
    “Thanks, Sue,” he said, his voice like gravel.
    “You’re welcome, hon.”
    “I slept, but not much, and no, I did not get laid,” Willow said, turning back around to face the counter when she heard the bell above the door ring. Someone had just walked in, and that someone was the hunky, military-looking guy that had been coming in for breakfast five days a week for the past month. He always took a booth in the back. She was sure his two friends would be joining him within fifteen minutes, as usual.
    Sue nudged her arm. “You getting them today?”
    Willow chuckled. “If I could get them, I’d be sleeping better.” She reached for three coffee cups and placed them on a serving tray. “But to answer your question, yeah. These boys are mine.” She filled all three cups with black regular and started for the booth.
    The other two came through the door together. Willow stopped at the end of the counter, letting them pass her on the way to the booth. “Mornin’, boys,” she said, adding a Southern spin to her words.
    The one with the AC/DC T-shirt turned and grinned at her before sliding into the booth beside military man.
    “Wonder what in the world those three have in common,” Sue said from behind her. “They sure look completely different, like too different to be friends.”
    “Funny, isn’t it?” Willow walked around the edge of the counter. “They say variety is the spice of life, though,” she said over her shoulder, throwing Sue a wink.
    Over the past few weeks, all Willow had learned about them were their first names. The hunky military man was Josh. The rock-band T-shirt with the bed-head curls was Mikey. And the nerdy Johnny Depp look-alike was Jack. Three unlikely friends who came in the café every morning for breakfast who, by the time they were gone every day, had her fantasizing about one, two, or all three of them at the same time. It was driving her nuts. What was it about the mysterious threesome that sparked her libido?
    “Here’s your coffee, guys.” She placed the three cups in front of them one by one. “Black and strong, just like you like it.” She pulled her order pad out of her apron pocket and laid it on the tray. Grabbing her pen from behind her ear, she poised it above the pad. “What can I get you this bright and shiny Friday morning?”
    Jack looked up at her, shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with an index finger. “I’ll have French toast with strawberries and whipped cream.” He smiled, his bottom lip trembling slightly, as if he was nervous about talking to her at all.
    Willow wrote down his order, wondering what he would look like if she could get him out of those dress pants, white button-down, and glasses. Sitting there as he was, he looked a little nerdy and acted nervous. What was he like outside in the real world?
    Josh, her military man with the close-cropped blond hair and deep-green, Clint Eastwood squint, cleared his throat. “I’ll have three eggs, hard, with bacon and hash browns.”
    She jotted down his order. “What kind of toast would you like?”
    “Wheat.” He laid his menu on the table.
    “Wheat it is. You sure you wouldn’t like some juice, just to sweeten up that frown wrinkling your forehead?”
    He quickly touched his forehead then realized what he had just done. He let out a small chuckle and dropped his hand back to the table. “A small one.”
    “A little sweet is better than none,” she said, giving him a wink. She turned to