Rogue’s Property (Savage Knights MC: NW Chapter #8)

Prologue

Izzy

“He’s here.”

Viv casually comes walking around the corner, placing the pitcher of water down at our station. It takes me a moment to register exactly who she’s talking about until I turn and see the smirk on her face as she waits for my reaction.

“He is?” That makes this the fourth day in a row that he’s come in for lunch. So, either he really likes the steak here, or Viv is right and he’s after something else.

“Yep. He requested his ‘usual’ table.”

In my section.

“How do I look? Is my hair sticking up everywhere? And my makeup? Is my lipstick still on?” I slide my tongue across the top of my teeth then bottom, making sure there’s no red that will make me look like a clown when I open my mouth to take his order.

“Relax, Izz. You look obnoxiously perfect, and I secretly hate you for it.” Her eyes teasingly roll as she turns her phone around to show me the camera view.

“You could have no makeup on and still make me envious of your flawless complexion. And I guarantee Dr. Sexy would be more than okay with your hair sticking up everywhere. It’d be a preview of what you’ll look like after sex.

Especially now that your cheeks are all flushed and there’s a sheen of sweat breaking out over your skin. ”

She’s sitting here teasing me, and I’m about to freak out.

“Viv! You’re not funny. And thanks a lot. Now, all I’m thinking about is sex.”

“Good. It’s about time. I can’t remember the last time you even went on a date. Your pussy probably has cobwebs by now.”

That’s because all the guys on campus have an IQ as big as a shot glass and an ego as big as a keg.

Their maturity level is the equivalent of a belching contest at a frat party.

It’s the reason I chose to work here at the steakhouse instead of at any of the places near the university.

This job allows me to interact with intelligent adults—like the hot doctor.

Who’s already been in three times this week and has specifically asked to be seated in my section.

I’d assume he’s adopted a new carnivore diet and thinks I’m an exceptional waitress, especially since he leaves me a hundred-dollar tip on a hundred-dollar check, but Viv and everyone else believe he’s interested.

My dating meter doesn’t function properly—courtesy of my fucked-up past, so I’m not exactly sure what he’s after.

“Deep breaths, Izz.” Viv inhales deep then lets it out slowly, smiling wider when I growl at her. She is so not helping. “He’s obviously really into you. So, just go out there and be yourself. My guess is that today he’ll be ordering dessert after his meal.”

She giggles when my eyes narrow in further. Now, how the hell am I supposed to take his order?

“Ice water, two lemon wedges,” I say, turning to my stand and making him his usual.

He’s ordered the same thing every time he comes in, which is why I think he’s just a creature of habit and not interested in a date.

Besides, I’m twenty-one years old, and from the salt sprinkled throughout his hair, I’m guessing he’s probably in his mid to late thirties.

Not that his age detracts from his good looks; the man is prime for his age.

“Relax, Cinderella.” Viv hands me a basket of rolls. “Your prince charming doesn’t need to end up with that water spilled all over his scrubs.”

The glass in my hand starts to shake and water is about to slosh over the rim. Of course, now that she’s pointed it out, I’m shaking even more.

“Are you going to stand here sweating into his glass all day, or are you going to go take his order?” I wipe my arm across my brow, making sure I’m not actually dripping sweat. If feels like I’m standing next to the grill in the kitchen, being doused in flames.

“You’re fine, Izz. If you spill any on him, just grab a napkin and rub it all over his crotch to dry him off.”

“Viv!”

I need to get away from her before I trip and fall on my ass in front of the man.

“Thanks a lot.” I stick my tongue out at her.

“What are friends for?”

They’re supposed to talk you down from your ledge of panic, not push you over the side of it. I turn and brace my shoulders, ignoring my friend’s cheeky smile.

“Hi!” I squeak, placing the glass down in front of him. Some of the water splashes out onto the tablecloth and a lemon slice plunks into the glass making another splash. Geez, I’m a mess. And for some reason I sound like a mouse. A squeaky, high-pitched mouse.

Sexy, Izz. Now, get it together.

“I guess it’s a compliment to the chef that you’re back again. What does that make this? Four times this week? I’m not sure your cardiologist would approve, Doc. That’s a lot of red meat.”

His smile is butterfly inducing. The little critters are now flapping away inside my stomach.

And when he leans in closer, they lodge themselves up in my throat, trapping the air inside my lungs.

He smells so clean and crisp, like he’s been sterilized in sexiness— and I probably smell like a steakhouse.

“I think it’s more of a compliment to the pretty girl that I just can’t seem to get enough of.

And if you’re worried about my heart, how about you agree to go out on a date with me tonight?

That way I can give my arteries a break.

Though, my blood pressure is sure to be in jeopardy when I’m around you. ”

“That may be the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.”

He lets out a chuckle and I realize I just said that out loud. That was meant to stay locked inside my head. And now, I’m sure my fun little red splotches are breaking out across my neck, revealing my embarrassment.

“Sorry, I’m a little rusty on my flirting skills.” He winks.

I reach back and pull my ponytail forward, trying to cover up the evidence of my nerves. They make me look like I’m diseased.

“You know. I have a cure for those.” He looks to the place I’m trying to hide. “My kisses will make each and every one of those splotches go away.”

And now I can feel them breaking out on my chest and spreading lower. He’s like the McDreamy guy on TV. Smooth and sexy. And way out of my league.

“You don’t need to be nervous around me, Izabelle. I’ve never seen anything I’ve wanted so much.”

Viv was right; he’s definitely interested. There’s no misreading the look in his eyes or what he just said. What am I supposed to say in response? Thank you? Can I take your order now? I want you too?

“So, what do you say, Izabelle? Will you let me take you out tonight? I get off at seven.”

In spite of his rustiness in the pickup line department, I think he’s doing just fine. I find his cheesiness to be charming, and so is his smile.

“Yes, I’ll go out with you. Is there something in particular I should wear for our date?”

It feels like a blowtorch is running across my skin as his eyes travel down my frame.

“What you have on is sexy as hell, but I’m guessing you want to change out of your uniform. How about you wear your pajamas, and I’ll bring a pizza over? We can have a cozy night in. Get you out of those heels.”

I’m guessing he’s noticed my ankles shaking in these heels. Thankfully, the table at my hip is keeping me steady, but I dare not look at the tablecloth around his glass. I may need to refill his water glass before I’m done.

I don’t even know him. Isn’t coming back to my place a little too intimate for a first date?

“Or, if you’d rather go out, I know this great little Italian place on the outskirts of the city. It’s your call, pretty girl. All I care about is getting to know you better. I’m coming for the company, not the food.”

“My place is fine.” It honestly sounds like the perfect date. No frills, the comfort of my own home, no heels to try to walk a straight line in. “I’ll make us a dessert. Do you like cookies, cake, or pie?”

“God, I want to kiss you.”

His tongue runs along his lower lip, moistening it. Drawing me in closer and closer until a clatter of dishes goes off in the background, reminding me that I’m at work. I’ll get fired if I kiss a customer in front of everyone.

“What can I get you for lunch?” I pull out my pad and pencil.

“I’ll take my usual, Izabelle. And I’ll make sure I save room for that sweet treat you’re going to give me later.”

I don’t think the man is referring to chocolate chip cookies.

“Izabelle, table seven is waiting on their drinks.”

And that’s my cue that I have a job to do. I quickly tell Dr. Gorgeous I’ll put his order in then go check on my other tables. Knowing my manager is watching me, I don’t even glance in the doctor’s direction, but I can feel his eyes follow my every move. And my entire body is lit in flames.