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Katy
The Moonlight Diner is a greasy spoon over on the edge of town known for its generous portions and late-night crowd. So at five in the afternoon, the place was deserted, one bored waitress standing by the counter reading the paper, smacking her gum.
She barely looked up when I walked in, but when she saw the two huge alpha males behind me, her demeanor switched from night to day. The middle-aged woman was suddenly all smiles, swaying hips and suggestive glances.
“How many?” she purred, her hand stroking the plastic menus sensuously. Gross, those menus were greasy and dirty, and yet she was making like it was a sexy rub.
“Three,” returned Brent smoothly, an eyebrow arched with humor. He was used to getting special treatment, women melting into tiny puddles in his vicinity, swooning with lust.
And this chick was no different.
“Oh of course,” she gushed, grabbing the menus and seating us by the window. “I’m Tammy, your server today. And you are?”
I stared at Brent and Jason, amazed. Since when did waitresses ask the names of their customers? But Brent just rolled with it, ignoring her question. “I’m looking for some hot coffee while we wait, thanks so much. You two?” he quirked an eyebrow at us.
And Jason was right on the ball.
“Coke,” he said.
Stunned in a small voice, I added, “Diet Coke for me, please.”
But that was the wrong thing to say because both Jason and Brent frowned at me immediately.
“Why are you drinking a Diet Coke?” Brent growled. “Honey, diet’s no good.”
And Jason, despite his palpable animosity towards Brent, nodded, brows drawn.
“Katy, that diet shit’s all fake sugar, and besides, you don’t need to lose weight. You’re perfect the way you are.”
I colored, the waitress still looking at us expectantly, eyebrows raised. I just wanted her to go away as fast as possible so I mumbled, “Coke then, thanks,” and the woman snapped her pad shut.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks!” she trilled with a wink and a nod. And was my mind playing tricks, or did her walk have an extra swing, an extra bounce knowing that these handsome men were in her diner?
But I sighed, relieved to see the back of her striped uniform. At least we had some privacy now, at least we could talk without nosy ears overhearing.
But the alphas weren’t done yet.
“Honey, you’re gorgeous,” rumbled Brent, his deep blue gaze meaningful, filled with concern. “None of that diet shit, ever again. If anything, you need to gain weight, you’re too thin.”
Jason nodded, agreeing.
“Hell yeah,” he rumbled. “Put on an extra twenty and baby, you’d be Miss America.”
I colored.
“I don’t think Miss America looks like me,” I said wryly. “I mean, look,” I said, gesturing to my body. Most of me was hidden because we were seated, but my generous breasts stuck out, almost resting on the plastic table. “Any more weight would be sheer craziness! I wouldn’t be able to squeeze into this booth.”
But both men shook their heads, disagreeing vehemently.
“Honey, there’snotenough of you,” growled Jason.
“Nowhere near enough,” chimed Brent, “I’d like to see you much bigger, there’d be more to kiss, more to touch, more everything,” he rumbled, making me gasp and look around. Oh god, where was the waitress? Could she hear us? But fortunately, the middle-aged woman was nowhere in sight, probably in back grabbing our drinks.
Brent shrugged, unconcerned.
“Since we’re talking about Katy, we might as well get to it,” he rumbled. “Because there’s something both of us want and she’s sitting right here in the booth,” he said meaningfully, eyeing Jason.
Jason looked right back at him, meeting his stare without uttering a word, jaw tight, eyes beginning to spark, and I flushed furiously. Oh my god, this was definitely taking on the feel of a two males sparring for a female, staring each other down before engaging in battle, locking horns and goring one another before going in for the kill. Holy shit, was this really happening?
