Three
Loretta
The ring of the bell over the door causes me to turn from talking to Dawson to greet the new customer.
When I see who is coming through the door, I drop the coffee carafe I’m holding.
It hits the floor and shatters, splashing coffee all over everything.
My hands start to shake as Mr. Pretty walks through the door, smiling widely.
“What the hell, Loretta?” Lottie gasps, rushing over to me.
I break eye contact with the man and bend down quickly to help her clean up the mess, refusing to answer because I have no idea why I reacted the way I just did.
I get the glass cleaned up about the same time she makes it over with the mop.
When I look around, I find him sitting at a booth just watching me.
Swallowing hard and chastising myself because there is no way that he is here for me or followed me here.
“I’m so sorry, Lottie,” I whisper, fighting back tears.
Lottie must hear in my voice because she looks at me with the same soft smile she always does and pats my hand. “It’s alright, my dear. There ain’t no use crying over spilled coffee. You go welcome that man, and I’ll finish up here.”
Giving her a tentative grin, I go to get him a menu and some silverware.
Slowly, I make my way over to the man, taking deep breaths so as not to lose my shit on this man.
I’m about three feet from him when he looks up and a bright smile spreads across his face.
Plastering on my flawlessly perfected professional face, I take the last steps to him, laying the menu and silverware down like I’ve done a thousand times before.
“Welcome, I’m Loretta, and I’ll be your server this evening. What can I start you off with to drink?” I rush out.
He leans back against the booth, looking me up and down before bringing his eyes back to mine with a satisfied smile on his face. “It looks like I finally get to learn your name.”
A blush covers my cheeks. “I guess it was awfully rude of me not to give you my name earlier.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “It was mighty rude, but I’ll forgive you if you go out on a date with me.”
“I don’t know about that. How about I get you something to drink to start with and then see how it all goes,” I state, trying my best not to break down right here and now.
The light in his eyes gleam in the same way my stepdad’s would right before he lost patience with my mother. And things didn’t end well for her or for me.
I shuffle back from him, fighting my need to run, and slam right into a very hard chest. Large, strong hands land on my hips, holding me upright as the scent of a very expensive cologne wraps around me.
Inhaling deeply, a memory long blurred tries to creep up.
Something about that smell is familiar to me.
“Careful there, Blood Rose,” the brick wall behind me purrs into my ear. “Wouldn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself now, would we?”
I open my mouth to speak, only nothing comes out, so I just settle for shaking my head.
A low rumble of what I can assume is supposed to be a laugh vibrates against my back, causing a shiver to travel down my spine.
Mr. Pretty clears his throat, breaking whatever trance I was in, so I step away from the wall toward the table.
He growls at this movement, causing me to glance in his direction, and I gasp because I know those eyes.
I saw them at the edge of the woods. He gives me a studdle shake of his head and, for reasons I am in no shape to scrutinize, I understand the command he is giving me.
Finding my wits about me, I step further away from him but to the right so that I’m not stepping nearer to Mr. Pretty. “I am so sorry I bumped into you. You can take a seat anywhere, and we’ll be right with you.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “No worries are all.”
When he finally lets me go and walks over to a table tucked into the corner, I can’t stop myself from following his every movement.
He slides into the booth like a panther, gracefully and as if he owns the space, and is in complete control of everyone and everything.
Movement to my left finally breaks the trance this man seems to hold over me.
Turning to Mr. Pretty, I blush so hard that I give the sun a run for its money. “Ummm, I am so sorry. It appears as if I’m losing my mind today.”
He is once again eyeing me like I’ve done him wrong in some way before he snarls low, “Maybe you would like to take care of your other customer first.”
I straighten my spine, glaring at the man over his shitty attitude before placing my professional mask in place.
“I apologize for any inconvenience I have caused you. If you would like to give me your drink order, I can get that in right now. Since there seems to be a problem here, I will be happy to turn the rest of your service over to Mrs. Lottie to handle from there.”
The asshole finally seems to understand that he has fucked up.
“Oh, no, no. I am so sorry if I have made you feel like you’ve done something wrong.
” He seems to force himself to relax and return to the kind man I met on the trail.
“I would like you to continue to be my server. I’m just having a shitty day and seem to be taking it out on you.
Why don’t you let me take you out to make up for it? ”
Giving my sweetest practiced smile, I respond, “How about that drink order first?”
His eyes flash for just a moment. “I’ll have a Coke with light ice.”
“Awesome, I’ll have that right out for you!” I chirp, barely holding the smile.
As I go to fix his drink, I can’t stop myself from eyeing the newcomer out of the corner of my eye.
To my surprise, he has his phone out, looking at it and typing something.
His eyes snap up to mine almost instantly, as if he can sense me watching him.
The predatory look in his eyes makes me shiver.
I will not admit that it’s from want and not fear.
When I make it back behind the counter without incident, I sag at having a moment of reprieve.
I steady myself and get back to work, refusing to let anyone mess up what I have here.
Lottie took a big risk by letting me work for her, and the last thing I’m going to do is make her regret it.
I make sure to add very little ice in Mr. Pretty’s Coke and grab a menu and silverware for the newcomer as I make my way back around the counter to them.
I follow my gut and take the Coke over to the table first, then I’ll drop off the menu to the other.
He looks up at me with a wide smile when I place it there. “Thank you, sweetheart. You know I’m sorry for being an ass, right? Please let me make it up to you.”
I make the choice to ignore his questions. “Do you know what you would like to order?”
His smile slips just slightly before he answers me, “Yeah, I’ll have a burger with fries.”
“Anything special about it?” I question him.
“Oh yeah, just meat and cheese,” he tells me smugly.
“Alrighty, I’ll get that right in. I’ll be back to check on you in a few moments,” I fake-smile widely as I turn and leave, putting as much space between him and myself as possible.
Before going to put his order in, I go over to the stranger that stirs something deep inside me.
I refuse to look into myself and figure out whatever it is right now.
When I make it to his table, he looks up at me with an intensity that makes me want to do exactly what he tells me to and make sure his gaze is always that intense while on me.