Page 23 of Monster Diner

Victor wanted. It was what had disappointed his creator most. Victor’s greed. His hunger for more than was offered to him. He was never satisfied. There was no better way to explain it. He wanted Lizzy, for the diner, for Brayden, for himself. The problem was, they wanted different things. It didn’t matter if her staying would honor Frank’s memory and help the diner thrive. It didn’t matter that she helped bridge the gap between him and Brayden after he’d spent nearly a year trying, and it didn’t matter that he was slowly coming undone in his desire for her. She didn’t want the diner, or him, and he had to respect that choice.

Their shifts overlapped for the first time since they’d kissed. Three days. And despite his desire to be a gentleman, being in close proximity to her was a dangerous temptation. Victor was on the flat top, but every time her name rang through on a ticket, his heart sputtered a few beats. He kept getting distracted from the flat top and turning to look over his shoulder, hoping for a quick glance of her through the window. Whenever their eyes met, she’d give him a flirtatious grin, and he’d remind himself he wasn’t interested in casual. But his willpower was being tested.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn’t pay attention to the bacon or the pancakes on the flat top, and a thick cloud of smoke started rising. He cursed and scraped the ruined food off the flat top and plopped down fresh pancakes and bacon. They were backed up as it was, and if he didn’t get it right, he’d never be able to leave the flat top. Even if the food would have been good enough, it would’ve bothered him. And he had enough on his mind as it was.

The morning waitress, Trudy, stuck her head through the window.

“Hey, you almost done with table three’s?” she asked.

“Sorry, give me a minute. I burned something,” Victor replied.

“It’s not like you to burn food.” She cocked her head.

“I’m distracted.” It bothered him to admit it. She was right; this was out of character. He strived for perfection. Always. Even when it wasn’t possible.

“Up too late with Lizzy?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“You’ve been talking to Vivianne,” he said.

“No, I have eyes and three kids. Nothing gets past me. Besides, you’ve been watching her through the window all morning.”

He coughed to cover up his surprise. Trudy was often distracted. If it was obvious to her, then his crush was really bad.

Lizzy was talking with table one, and her back was to them. Seeing the animated way she spoke with the customers was entrancing.

“She’s a natural at this. All the regulars keep asking to sit in her section. It’s ruining my tips,” Trudy said, but it lacked any real malice.

Frank’s had needed someone like Lizzy. She was a natural at restaurant service. They were busier than usual, thanks in part to Vivianne’s clever marketing, but also because Lizzy fit into his life like a missing puzzle piece, one he hadn’t known he wanted or needed until now. Which was the problem. The more successful the diner was, the more reasons she had to leave.

Lizzy caught him staring through the window, and her eyes glittered with mischief. Was she thinking about the other night as well, or was he a depraved pervert who couldn’t stop thinking about the way her thick thighs had wrapped around his waist?

Trudy cleared her throat. “Table three?”

Victor coughed and plated up the two orders he’d been working on and passed them through the window.

She shook her head like a disapproving mother and went to serve them. Lizzy came out of the swinging doors of the kitchen a moment later and fluttered her lashes at him.

“I’m starving, but my lunch break isn’t for another two hours. Would you make me some fries?”

“Flirting with the cook to get snacks, you’re a seasoned pro.”

“Well, if it works.” She brushed a hand along his arm, and his entire body fizzled.

He wanted to pull away, or grab her and fuck her against the kitchen wall, not caring who watched or that he’d drawn the line at casual sex.

“Table one is looking for you,” Trudy said to Lizzy, with a stern look.

Lizzy sauntered away, shaking her hips as she went. She was taunting him. He adjusted his apron to disguise his hard-on and grabbed the bag of fries and dumped them into the fryer.

While those cooked, he watched Lizzy as she moved through the dining room, checking on her tables, then clearing another. She bent over, ass up in the air, round and plump like a fresh cherry he wanted to sink his teeth into. Lizzy looked over her shoulder, caught him watching her again, and gave him another devious smirk.

Victor returned to the fryer, emptied the fries into a basket, and called her over. Lizzy came in and plucked a fry from the basket, took a bite, and moaned.

Now he was certain she was trying to torture him.

“This is sinfully good.” She grabbed a bottle of ketchup, poured a bit over her fries, but got some on her fingers. She licked it off, her tongue darting out to clean her digit. Victor braced himself on the kitchen counter and tried to think unsexy thoughts, but failed.

What had possessed him to believe he could stay just friends with her? This was going to be the most torturous month of his life.