Page 12 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

My knees almost buckled.

He was seated at the far corner of the room. In a black suit, his hair was a little messy, like he didn’t care enough to tame it. Like he just walked away from a stove, a fight, or a woman, or maybe all three.

And he was looking at me.

Dead in the eye. Not blinking. Not casual. Not distracted. Like he was seeing me. I felt like he was staring right into my soul.

My stomach dropped straight through my heels. My brain screamed at me to run.

It was like some gut instinct. Every fiber of my being told me the man was dangerous. Like I was encountering a lion in the wild. He was a jungle cat and I was just a little kitten. I drank in every detail of him, though.

I remembered someone calling him the Mortician. That was before I actually saw him in person. I had created an image of a short, bald, portly man in my head. And then when I saw him, I got it. He was so dark. He dressed all in black. His hair was black. His eyes weren’t black, but they were definitely dark. All those thick black lashes and bushy brows made them look black when in reality they are just a deep espresso brown.

Look away, Clem. Look. Away. Save your soul.

But I couldn’t.

There was an invisible tether pulling me toward him. I felt like he had put me under a spell. I used to read and watch a lot of vampire stuff. I was pretty sure Rhett was doing something similar to me. He was using some crazy woo-woo shit to draw me into his web.

I seriously considered diving under a stranger’s table just to get out of the line of fire of that impossible stare. Why was he looking at me like that?

No way he recognizes you, Clem. Don’t be stupid. He’s Rhett freaking Voss, and you’re a kid named after a fruit. He probably thinks I’m the least interesting person in this room.

Still, I could feel his gaze following me as I slipped into my seat between my mom and Henry.

My fingers fumbled for the stem of my water glass. My palms were sweating. It was ridiculous to be so unnerved by a man I didn’t know. A man that would never know me.

I barely stopped myself from fanning my face.

Hwan stepped onto the small, raised platform at the center of the room, microphone in hand. “Friends. Family. Lovers of food. May I present to you tonight’s first course?”

Servers entered in sync, carrying the trays on one hand. The scent of browned butter and something savory filled the room. As they delivered the scallops to each guest, sighs of approval rippled through the room like wind.

I glanced up. Rhett hadn’t stopped watching me. He still wasn’t smiling.

Oh god.

“Why is he doing that?” I muttered.

“Who?” my mother whispered.

“Nobody,” I said. “Don’t look.”

“Is it Rhett Voss?”

I shot her a look. “Don’t.”

She looked anyway. Of course she did.

I willed my heart to calm the hell down. The first bite melted on my tongue. It was amazing, of course. It was rich and delicate and just perfect. We all raved about the dish. It wasn’t hard to overhear the other diners talking about how good it was as well. Although I did nothing more than drop a few flowers on each plate, I felt like I contributed.

Which was ridiculous.

My father stood. He tapped his glass once and raised it. The room quieted and all eyes were on him.

Most eyes.

When I glanced over to check on the man that seemed obsessed with me, he was staring directly at me. At first, I thought it was hot.