Chapter 6
Taryn
I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I’m having another rough day.
I didn’t wake up feeling hungover today, which is a relief, and my stomach has settled down.
Today, I’ve been dealing with the overwhelming sensation that someone is watching me.
If that wasn’t bad enough, I’m also weirdly aroused for no reason at all.
I mean, it’s been a while, but that’s just the story of my life.
“Order up!” Joe calls out. “Table six!”
“Got it!” I say, hurrying to the counter.
Joe asked me out this morning and I turned him down. He’s been staring at me more than usual ever since. That’s definitely not the reason I’m aroused. Yuck! The thought of going out with him is almost enough to turn my stomach. The thought of him actually touching me is even worse.
The worst part is that Frank encouraged it. He said Joe and I flirt all the time, which isn’t true. I guess Frank really doesn’t care who I end up with, just as long as I’m not his problem anymore. I get it. I’m an unwanted basement guest and I’ve overstayed my welcome.
It’s not the first time he’s acted like I should be grateful for male attention, no matter where it comes from. Regulars. Delivery guys. A guy from Frank’s church asked me if I’d ever considered becoming a stepmother before he asked my last name. Frank thought that guy deserved a chance too.
But I’m basically free labor, so I’m pretty sure I’m earning my keep. He barely pays me anything because he thinks my real money should come from tips. I wish the customers felt the same way he does.
I approach table six and put a smile on my face. “Alright, I’ve got your burger and fries, ma’am,” I say, putting the plate down in front of her before turning to the man across the table. “And a ham sandwich with tater tots for you, sir.”
“I asked for ketchup,” the man snaps, looking at his plate.
“Yes, sir, right over there,” I respond, gesturing to the ketchup bottle on his table.
“I like my ketchup cold. Got any ketchup in the fridge?” he asks.
“Um, we may have a bottle, yes. I’ll be right back,” I say, turning toward the kitchen.
I hurry into the kitchen and open the fridge. There are a few bottles of ketchup, so I grab one. When I turn around, Joe is so close I can smell his breath, which hasn’t gotten any better since this morning.
“We need to talk. I think we got off on the wrong foot this morning,” he says.
“Joe, look, you’re nice… really, I’m sure there’s someone for you, but it’s not me. You’re old enough to be my grandfather.”
“Which is exactly what Frank says you need,” he assures me with undeserved confidence. “An experienced man.”
“Frank said that?” I ask, shocked. I shake it off. “It doesn’t matter. This just isn’t going to happen. I need to take this ketchup to table six.”
“We’ll talk later,” Joe says, walking back to the grill.
Hopefully, I can avoid that conversation.
Joe always works a double shift, so I’ll be out of here before he gets off work.
I just need to avoid him until then. Maybe that’s why it feels like someone is watching me.
I’m so creeped out by Joe it’s messing with my head.
Still doesn’t explain the arousal, though.
I take the ketchup to table six and notice there’s a man at table ten with his back to me. He must have slipped in while I was in the kitchen. Joe had me so rattled I didn’t even hear the bell on the front door.
I grab my coffeepot and a glass of water before I start walking toward table ten.
Even from behind, I can tell the man has a powerful, muscular frame.
You don’t see many guys around here built like this guy.
He has broad shoulders and biceps that stretch the sleeves on the black T-shirt he’s wearing.
His hair is charcoal black and hangs almost to his shoulders.
Every step I take seems to make the arousal worse.
It’s a lot stronger now. Surely my body isn’t reacting to Joe’s unwanted attention.
No, that still makes my stomach churn uncomfortably, so that isn’t it.
I guess it’s just been so long since I’ve had a man in my life that the sight of a muscular guy is enough, even if I haven’t seen his face yet.
“Hello, sir. Welcome to Covington Diner,” I say as I get to the table.
The man looks up, and he’s got the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen.
I get lost in them for a moment, like I don’t know how to look away.
They’re almost black, but not empty. There’s something burning in them.
Something focused. Something that makes every nerve in my body tingle with the same confusing arousal I’ve been dealing with all morning.
“Coffee?” I ask, my hand trembling when I put his water down and flip his coffee cup over.
“Sure,” he rumbles, his voice so thick and sexy it makes my core clench.
He’s definitely attractive. There’s no denying that. He’s the kind of attractive that makes women forget their coffee order and men suddenly remember they need to stand up straighter.
His jaw is sharp, covered in just enough dark stubble to make him look dangerous instead of lazy.
His nose looks like it’s been broken at least once, but somehow that only makes his face more striking.
He has full lips, which seems unfair, because a man this attractive and intimidating shouldn’t also have a mouth that makes stupid thoughts sneak into my head.
Heat creeps up my neck when I lean over and pour his coffee. He watches my movements like he’s studying them. Memorizing them. Even the way my hand trembles. I have to stabilize it with my other hand so I don’t splatter his coffee while I’m pouring it.
“Would you like to hear the specials today, or do you just want to look over the menu?”
“I already know what I want,” he replies, his deep voice and dark gaze mesmerizing.
Suddenly, I understand why deer freeze when they’re caught in the headlights of a car. I can’t move. I’m not sure I can breathe. I’m just frozen here, waiting for him to say something. Waiting for my lips to move enough to form words.
A bead of sweat runs down my back, but I finally regain my composure and pull out my order pad.
“Two burgers, double fries,” he says, not looking away.
“You… must be really hungry today,” I go for a quip but I’m afraid I sound like I’m choking and swallow hard as I write down his order.
He keeps my eyes hostage as he growls, “You have no fucking idea.”
The way he says it. The look in his eyes.
That doesn’t look like hunger for burgers, fries, or anything we serve in this diner.
Or maybe I’m just so aroused I can’t think straight.
The longer I stand at this table, the worse it seems to get.
At least this time, there’s a good reason for it.
I’m pretty sure this guy would make a nun rethink her life choices.
“How would you like your burgers cooked?” I ask, managing to remember my job.
“Bloody,” he says.
“Rare, got it,” I breathe out, quickly jotting it down. “Anything else for you today, sir?”
“I didn’t see anything else on the menu that interested me,” he answers me with an innuendo, his eyes roaming enough for me to blush again and have to rub my thighs together.
“Could I get your name?” I squeak, my fingers quivering as I tighten my grip on my pen. “For your order.”
“Victor,” he says.
“I’ll bring your order over as soon as it’s ready, Victor,” I whisper, the ache between my thighs getting so sharp I can’t hold in a light groan.
He notices. He definitely notices. His fingers tighten around the coffee cup as he lifts it to his gorgeous lips, and his nostrils flare.
I’m embarrassed enough to be shaken out of my trance, so I hurry to the counter.
I barely get Victor’s order keyed before Frank is nearly on top of me, breathing down my neck.
I can still feel Victor’s eyes on me from across the diner. I don’t look back. I don’t trust myself to look back. My body already embarrassed me once, and apparently, it’s looking for an encore.
“What’s with the guy at table ten? Did he ask you out?” Frank asks, being oddly nosey.
“Um, no, I just took his order,” I say, still feeling flustered.
“Well, smile more when you go back over to his table,” Frank instructs. “And if he does ask you out, don’t do that thing where you scare him off. At least show enough interest to get a good tip.”
I should be interested. Victor’s hotter than the coffee he’s drinking.
He’s older than me, but truthfully, I’ve never had a problem with older guys.
I just don’t want to date someone old enough to be my grandfather.
Victor definitely doesn’t give off any grandfather vibes.
Daddy vibes, maybe, but… Goddammit, I really need to get my head out of the clouds.
“Taryn, table seven is trying to flag you down,” Frank says, nudging me while I stand behind the counter in a daze. “They want more coffee.”
“Oh, sorry,” I mumble, reaching for my coffeepot before I realize I’m still holding it.
The sensation of being watched returns as I walk to table seven. I glance toward the kitchen, expecting to see Joe staring at my ass, but his attention is on the grill for a change. I force myself to look at Victor and nearly drop my coffeepot.
He’s switched to the other side of the table and he’s definitely watching me. He’s not subtle either. His dark gaze is following every move I make. I have to look away again when I feel another tremor between my legs.
“Sorry for the delay,” I say apologetically as I refill the coffee cups at table seven. “Anything else you need?”
“Just the check,” the man sitting to my left says.
“I have that right here,” I say, reaching into my apron.
I make my rounds to the rest of the tables.
Every time I glance at table ten, Victor is watching me.
It should creep me out. Cause some worry.
Raise a few red flags and sound a chorus of warning bells.
But for some reason, it doesn’t. It just makes me blush and triggers a rush of moisture between my legs that soaks into my panties.