Wanted

Chapter 1

As far as Zac Newport was concerned, Denny’s was the best place on earth.

Not because of the coffee.

Not because of the twenty-four-hour service.

Not because of the Grand Slam or the Three-Egg Ultimate Omelet.

It was because of the African American woman in the suit who arrived every day at precisely 7:30 for breakfast and sat two tables away. Zac could have set his watch to her.

He loved watching her set out two bags of sugar to go with her morning espresso. Once her healthy Ultimate Omelet arrived, she’d shake out four shakes of the ketchup bottle, never spilling a drop.

Then she’d meticulously cut her omelet into small bite-sized pieces and feed herself in careful, ordered fashion. Each forkful got dipped one time in the ketchup, and the napkin stayed on her lap, lest she ruin the conservative and ubiquitous skirt-suit.

Even her colors were muted, as the suit was always paired with a white button-down shirt. The only rebellious part of her was her heels.

Now Zac was no expert, but the heels were something special. He’d been here about sixteen times on his month of nights in the MetroGen ER, and she’d never worn the same pair twice. The pairs ranged from sparkling silver to fire engine red. He’d nurse his cup of post-shift decaf to watch her click by on four-inch heels that showed her legs and ass to great effect.

It should have been illegal for her to wear such drab clothing and hint at what lay beneath. Because, yes, Zac had checked out her legs, and her ass, and her boobs. She was probably a couple years older than him, and a few inches shorter, but that wasn’t a barrier to him knowing she had to be spectacular naked.

They’d never spoken. She’d seen him watching her, yet she said nothing. Or at least until this weekend when he sat down across from her.

The waitress came up and stopped in confusion. He said, “I’ll have the LumberJack Slam with scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, hash browns, and wheat toast. She’ll have the Ultimate Omelet with avocado and red peppers. Hold the Hash Browns and bag the English muffin. It’s on me today.”

After the waitress departed, the object of his affection pursed her lips and flipped a strand of straightened toffee-colored hair over her ear. “That’s not necessary. I can move somewhere else if you want this table.”

“Nah, I just felt like sitting here today.” Zac stretched his legs away from her, letting her notice how his green scrubs fit around his flat abs. “I’m Zac, third-year resident, MetroGen Emergency Medicine.”

She darted her eyes from his body to the light skin of his arms and the silver of his hair. “Why did you feel like sitting here today, Zac, the doctor-in-training?”

“I’m not a doctor-in-training. I’m a doctor, just an ER-doctor-in-training.”

“Right.” She neatened her silverware. “And you are here because?”

“Today was my last night shift in the ER for a few months. It’s a weekend, and you aren’t in a suit today. I decided to not to miss my chance to get the name and number of Ms. New Heels Every Day and likes four squirts of ketchup.”

“If your next words are my social security number, I’m filing a restraining order.”

“A woman who can navigate the justice system. Smart.” Zac let his gaze under his horn rimmed glasses drift over the pink shirt dress she’d worn today. So unlike her weekday clothing—except for heeled sandals.

“I work in the city courthouse.”

“That explains the suits but not those heels.” Zac suppressed his urge to lay a hand on her knee and follow it down to the strap of her sandal. She must have been a lawyer based on her work clothing.

“I like heels.”

“So do I, counselor. Especially on beautiful women like you. Legs for days.” He wouldn’t hesitate in pushing his case hard here.

“If this is a segue into your shoe fetish, you can eat that Lumberjack Slam elsewhere.”

“Nope. Just checking if you were as fun as your shoes hint you are.” Zac carefully placed his hand on the table near hers.

“And?”

“And, can the thing that is perfect become more perfect? A more perfect union?” He moved his hand a little closer.

She shook her head. “That’s the preamble of the Constitution.”

“Sure, I’m from Colorado, and we take a loose interpretation of the Constitution when we’re not smoking pot.” Zac wouldn’t hesitate to make jokes about his home state now that he had been transplanted to Ohio for emergency medicine residency.

“That part is the introduction. It’s not actually law. The same way the Declaration of Independence isn’t a law. It’s an essay in a letter.” She was obviously a lawyer.

“Guess I should have paid a lot more attention in high school civics class. You might be smarter than me.”

“If I’m smarter than you, I’m rather concerned about the emergency rooms in our city.” She glanced down at his hand almost atop of hers.

“I do know a lot about the human body. You can test my knowledge at any point. I’m easy like that.” Zac gave her his best grin.

“Are you? How easy?” Now her hand was on his.

“Pretty easy.” Zac’s smile didn’t falter.

“How reassuring,” she said sarcastically and waved down the waitress who had arrived with their food. “Can you box everything up? We’re going.”

“We are?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard that right, but her knee bumping into his wasn’t a mistake.

She whipped out a platinum card to pay. “We are. You said you were easy.”

Ms. Heels had caught him off guard. “I’m usually not that easy.”

“We can talk about it over breakfast at my place. You aren’t the only one who’s been watching for a month.”

“Guess we’re not watching anymore.” Zac’s heart sped up and pupils dilated as the primal urge to carry her off over his shoulder made itself known.

She jotted info on her napkin. “Here’s my number and my address—just in case you get lost, because you don’t act that smart.”

The waitress handed them bags of food and coffee, which Zac automatically picked up and followed her out to her car. They stopped by a deep purple late model Mustang.

“Those are mine.” She took her coffee and omelet.

“Let me help you.” He took the bags, set them down, and pulled her toward him. Her ample curves brushed his chest, and they shared a solid kiss.

Zac reassessed because he’d under describe the kiss. It wasn’t solid. It was scorching, and raised his temperature so much he might have had a fever. They could catch fire in the parking lot. He’d have kept kissing her, but her warm hand was under his shirt.

Now he was thankful that he kept up his snowboard training because he tightened his abs for her questing hand. That wasn’t the only hard part of him. Just to prove that, he gripped her butt, pushing her backward, loving how her body softened into him.

Sexy, heels, and melting with passion. Better than anything on the menu.

Somehow, she ended up straddling him and sitting on the hood of her car. Zac caught his breath. “Crap. We’d better stop now or we’re getting arrested at the Denny’s.”

She licked her mussed lipstick. “You have to be actually naked for public indecency. And you usually get a ticket.”

“Whose name will be on the ticket if I get you naked right here?”

“Danika.” She hopped off the hood of her car, grabbed the food, and strapped in. “Better keep up.”

“Not a problem, Danika.”