Which was exactly what I should be doing. Staying away from her.
I folded myself into the worn vinyl seat, back to the wall, sight lines to the door. Two years stateside and I still clocked every exit without thinking.
She finished serving a couple coffee and pie before looking up to see who had entered. A small, welcoming smile curved her lush lips as she walked toward me. I felt that hard pull again, in my gut—on my fucking dick. My blood felt thick, churning with a sudden, sharp need.
“You’re late,” she said, flipping over a white ceramic cup already on the table. “I was beginning to think you’d finallyfound your kitchen or, heaven forbid, a hobby that doesn’t involve brooding over lukewarm coffee.”
“I was at a wedding,” I said, my voice clipped and sharp. That was what she did to me. Stripped away the thin layer of civilization I’d managed to hold on to. When I was around her, I felt like I was running on animal instinct alone.
“A wedding? Really?” She stood next to me, one wide hip cocked to the side. “And you survived the happiness? The dancing? The feelings?” She clicked her tongue. “Brave man.”
The sass hit me harder than it should have. Most people handled me carefully, like I was something that might go off. She handled me like I was the most entertaining part of her shift.
“It was fine.”
She tilted her head, studying me with those dark eyes like she was deciding whether that answer deserved a response.
“Fine? You’re supposed to give me details. What the bride was wearing. What color were the decorations. If you got hit on by the maid of honor.”
“Decorations were blue. Bride was happy. Maid of honor was drunk.” I picked up my coffee. “I didn’t notice her.”
What else could I say to that? That the whole time I was at the wedding, watching someone get their happily-ever after, I’d been thinking of her? Dressed in white, in my bed, her body beneath mine as I fucked her? That I’d thought about her pussy clenching around my cock while she screamed my name into the dark? I’d thought about it so many times it had stopped feeling like fantasy and started feeling like memory.
The corner of her mouth lifted. “Didn’t notice her, huh,” she repeated, almost to herself.
She should have moved on. The diner was busy and other tables needed her attention. Instead, she reached out and straightened the salt and pepper shakers that didn’t needstraightening, her fingers brushing close to mine. She didn’t stand there long. Just long enough that it wasn’t nothing.
Then she caught herself and was gone—ponytail swinging, smiling and chatting with others in the same easy way.
Or was it?
I knew women. I’d had women in my bed. Never for long, but long enough. She didn’t treat me the same way she treated others.
There was something there.
Something I couldn’t let myself give into.
But it was killing me not to. I wanted to pull her down to me, get my hands in that ponytail, and find out what else that mouth could do when it wasn’t spitting out snark.
I took a drink of my coffee even knowing it would be too hot to drink. The slight burn brought me halfway back to my senses, but not enough for me to get up and leave.
Then the door jingled, and four men strode in. Boys really. They were wearing t-shirts from the local college and they were loud. Loud in the way young men are when they think the world is a performance. I tensed, my jaw tightening as one looked Keely over like she was something on the menu. I reminded myself that I wasn’t her keeper. That I had no rights whatsoever where she was concerned, but my instincts were flaring.
When she walked over to take their order, the same one leaned in too close. “Hey, honey,” the kid said, his voice loud and arrogant. “Why don’t you skip the pie and tell me what time you’re off?”
Keely didn’t blink. She leaned down, planting both hands on their table. “You want a burger or are you here just to waste my oxygen?”
The guy laughed, but it was forced. He reached out, his hand coming to close around her wrist to pull her closer.
I was out of the booth before he’d even finished the motion.
“Let go.” I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t have to. I stood over him, my shadow covering the table.
The guy foolishly held on. I reached out, bending his fingers back. Keely pulled her wrist away, stepping behind me.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” the guy snapped, standing up.
I stepped closer, my expression blank but my stance was a warning. “You do not touch her. Ever. Understand?”
