Chapter 5 Midnight Diner
Midnight Diner
Sadie
Leaning forward, I dragged my finger along the edge of my lip, trying to clean up my red lipstick. It was lighter than the deep burgundy dress hugging my curves. With a grin, I winked at my reflection. I looked like a knockout, and Rowen wouldn’t know what hit him.
On my way to my car, the crotchety old man who ran the motel hollered at me across the asphalt courtyard.
“Missy! Miss Corvin. Hold up, there.”
“Yes?” I said, turning. My nose wrinkled at the way he surveyed my body.
“If you’re going to be staying any longer, I’ll need you to prepay week by week. So you’ll need to come up with that by tomorrow.”
“What?” My fingers squeezed my purse strap hard enough to leave a mark. “That wasn’t what we discussed.”
“Yeah, well, that’s our policy.”
With a huff, I swallowed down the urge to argue. “Sir, my new job hasn’t paid me yet, and it won’t for another week. I’ll pay you two weeks in advance when that happens, plus what I owe for this week. Would that work?”
His eyes glittered at the idea of getting two weeks instead of one. It would take my entire paycheck, if I even got a paycheck, but so be it. This was a temporary struggle. Hopefully after those two weeks, I’d be able to move into an apartment in town.
“Fine,” he snapped, his eyes roving over me again. “Where are you going tonight all dressed up?”
“My new job.”
“Are you some sort of escort or something?”
My teeth ground together, sending an ache through my jaw. I didn’t like anything about his tone or the way he was looking at me.
“It’s none of your business what my job is. But if you want to be paid for my stay, I need to go to work.”
Without waiting for his response, I stalked to my car and slid into the driver’s seat. My heart thudded in my chest, and my skin felt cold and clammy from the confrontation. I needed to get out of there.
My drive into town gave me time to calm down and refocus, and by the time I walked into the bakery, I could smile without it feeling forced.
Seeing Rowen’s expression when he saw my dress made everything better. Time slowed as he turned to face me. His jaw slackened and his pupils dilated. I wanted to walk over to him, frame his jaw with my hands and feel his stubble against my palms. But he wasn’t mine to touch.
But I’d had a taste, and I was dying for more. My fangs ached thinking of our makeout session behind the bar. No matter how badly I wanted more, I needed to focus on my job. That was more important right now. Later, once I made myself indispensable, maybe things could be renegotiated.
“So, what are we doing tonight, Chef?” I asked, smirking at the way his jaw ticked when I called him chef.
“You can do the cookies again, and the quick breads. Let’s go over the recipes together and get started. And I want to show you a few things.”
Rowen shoved another apron at me, and I tied it at the waist before turning so he could tie the neck. A sense of victory swirled in my chest when his breathing stuttered. After a moment’s hesitation, he tied the apron strings, his fingers brushing over my skin and lingering.
I knew what had thrown him off—it was the reason I’d picked that dress. The back had a large heart-shaped cutout that framed my bare back. It was more appropriate for a cocktail party than the kitchen, but I didn’t regret a thing, seeing how dark Rowen’s eyes were when I turned back around.
Rowen showed me how he baked pie crusts before we got into the new recipes. The time sped by, but the quick breads proved more challenging than the cookies. The dough was drier, and flour poofed in white clouds from the mixer every time I added more.
It didn’t take long before frustration was welling up, tearing away my calm facade. Apparently I was less composed than I’d thought.
“This doesn’t look like you said,” I grumbled, peering into the mixer and being rewarded with a puff of flour directly into my face. “Ack! What the hell?”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Rowen said, appearing in front of me. His warm hand closed around my wrist, stopping me from rubbing at my face. I couldn’t see his expression through the tears filling my eyes.
“Stop, Sadie. Let me take care of it.” His low, commanding tone had me instinctively submitting, tilting my head back as my shoulders dropped. He muttered a string of words that were definitely not English, and the flour cleared from my eyes. “Better? Does anything else hurt?”
Sniffling, I shook my head. “Sorry, I’m just a mess.
And I don’t want to fuck anything up, so that makes me more stressed.
It sucks starting over in a new place, hence why I didn’t want to lose the job, and only being able to go out at night makes everything so much harder!
Vampire limitations and all! But I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.
I swear, I normally have my shit together—”
“Sadie,” he blurted, interrupting my monologue. “Are you hungry?”
My stomach leapt at his question. Hungry for food or blood? Because if he was offering, I’d take both. With the long work days, I still hadn’t had any time to find a hookup and feed. I’d also run out of granola bars in my motel room, so my stomach was entirely empty.
“Yeah, I really am,” I admitted.
“Then let’s go. We’re in good shape tonight. Our list is pretty short and easy. We should take a break.” He yanked his apron off and laid it across the counter.
“Seriously?” I stared at him with my jaw hanging open.
“Yeah, come on. Dinner is on me.” He didn’t even look at me, instead draping a towel over the mixer and muttering a quick spell.
“If you insist,” I said, untying my apron and setting it aside.
His throat worked when his eyes flicked back to my dress. “How does breakfast food sound? I’m guessing you still haven’t been to the diner?”
My cheeks warmed at the reminder of our conversation in the bar.
The one right before I bit him and tasted that delicious blood.
When I had his hands all over me and his skin against my lips.
Shaking my head, I cleared the heat building in my stomach and the memories of that night, and followed him out of the bakery.
The street was quiet, but not entirely empty. It was a town of supernaturals, after all. I wasn’t the only vampire here, even if I hadn’t met any of the others yet.
The group of friends walking down the street going the other way could have been werewolves, or perhaps something more rare. I was too busy watching Rowen to study them.
He dragged his hand through his hair and let his breath out in an audible huff. The way his jaw worked and his throat bobbed, he was struggling with himself. I’d give anything to know what was happening in his clever brain.
“What?” he asked, catching me staring. No time like the present to find out.
“You seem deep in thought. I was wondering what great mysteries you were pondering.”
Rowen grunted, and I didn’t expect to get an answer.
The diner loomed ahead of us, chrome reflecting the neon “Open” sign. Rowen held the door open for me before surprising me with an actual answer.
“I was wondering why you dress all pinup style. Are you from the fifties?”
“Don’t you know, asking a lady’s age is rude?” I quipped. A flush rose up my neck. I didn’t want him to know how wrong he was, or how young and clueless I really was. I’d guess he was a few years older than me, but he didn’t know that.
“Sorry.” An adorable flush pinked his cheeks, making the magenta of his hair brighter.
I couldn’t help but think we made a perfect pair, with my formerly blue eyes now a warm red-purple since my vampiric transformation.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, flashing him my most charming smile, now accented with a pair of fangs. “So how old are you?”
“Thirty-two,” he answered without hesitation, his eyes moving to the diner.
It was one of those vintage restaurants with pleather seats in vivid red, and bright white vinyl tabletops trimmed in metal. A middle-aged woman with long brown hair streaked with silver smiled at us from behind the counter.
“Good evening, Rowen. Sit wherever you like.”
Rowen strode directly to a booth a third of the way down the row. I slid into the bench across from him. The server appeared with plastic-covered menus a moment later. She smirked. “I should have known, you always pick the same booth.”
Rowen shrugged. “It’s my spot.”
“I should put up a little sign,” she said, chuckling. “Rowen’s booth.”
My mouth curved into a smile at their banter, but my chest ached at the way Rowen’s shoulders relaxed and how easy his grin came. He didn’t look at me like that. I got tension and grimaces, and suddenly I felt like an idiot for flirting with him. Clearly, I made him uncomfortable.
Folding my hands on the table, I decided I wouldn’t keep flirting. It wasn’t smart if I wanted to keep my job, and it wasn’t fair to Rowen.
The handsome witch looked over the menu for a split second before setting it down. “What do you want?”
I hadn’t even glanced at the options. Pressing my lips into a thin line, I read over the list. It was the standard diner fare. My typical waffles or French toast didn’t sound appealing when I was so hungry for both food and blood.
“I dunno. I think I’ll do the number three.” Two runny eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns.
Rowen nodded, and when the server returned, he ordered for both of us. He finished by asking, “Hey Liz, do you have any vampire drinks yet?”
The server tucked the menus under her arm. “Yeah, we just got some in.”
My eyes widened. They had blood here? I’d been told it was only available from certain mail services that were wildly expensive.
“Can you make something for Sadie, please?”
“Of course, but it’s gonna be pricey.”
He shrugged. “That’s fine. No worries.”
“Rowen, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to cost you any more.” My hands curled into fists, wrinkling the fabric of my dress at the hem.
“Sadie, it’s fine, I promise. Do you want it? I should have asked.”