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I could only stalk for so long before I finally said fuck it and left. She teases me and I love every second.
Evening approaches and I wait outside for her to leave. I have been sitting in this coffee shop across the street for over an hour. Anticipation swirls in like a hurricane gaining speed over water. I go to take a sip of my black coffee when she emerges from the hotel by herself. My breath catches in my throat as I take her in… from head to toe.
The strapless yellow sundress lies perfectly on her sun-kissed skin. Green earrings hang from her ears and her brown hair is gathered in a mess on the back of her head. Leaving her neck and shoulders completely exposed.
Well, shit, Reese Grafton, maybe I will be the one begging.
She continues down the street and I just about trip over myself to follow. I watch as she walks into a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant. I duck into an alcove of a business and watch as she points to an open table outside. The host is all too excited to grant her wish. This guy is admiring a bit more of my woman than I like.
Watch yourself, son. I’ll have to cut your eyeballs out later.
I chuckle at my possessiveness. She places her order with the young waiter. He first brings her a cold beer. I can see her little feet dance with contentment while I lick my lips, watching her bring the frosted glass to those sweet lips. Her tongue laps up the bitter taste. The waiter brings her food and she dives in with no shame. Seafood… I think back to Chase Masters. Arrogance got him killed… arrogance will get me killed if I don’t play this game right. Sinfully slow, she takes bite after bite of a different assortment of seafood.
The waiter brings over a martini for her and she stares at it, confused. She isn’t a martini-type woman. He points to the bar where a squirrelly guy waves. I stand a little taller and take in the smug, wannabe walking model. She politely refuses the martini and sends it back. The off-brand model of a man yells at the waiter. He is causing a scene and I shake my head… mistake number three.
No, no… you heard that right—his third mistake. First was him thinking this little fire starter was available. Second was him sending a martini to a woman enjoying a beer. The third was yelling at the staff. My best information always comes from lower-class tax brackets and blue-collar workers. Approached in different ways, they will let you know more than you ask. If you are a rude customer, you won’t have to ask if someone spits in your food… it’s who did it. Hence why you always overtip people working in this industry.
The waiter politely takes the asshole’s wrath and walks back to Reese. My woman does exactly what I expect, feeling sorry for the employee and happily accepting the martini. She nods to the waiter, who leaves. The guy strolls over to her table and invites himself to sit.
I am jealous. They sit and talk for a few minutes until Reese stands to go to the bathroom. Rubbing his hands over his bare-ass chin, he then slaps her ass as she walks by. She stands stunned for a moment before continuing on.
Oh. Hell. No. Fucker.
I can’t help myself. This jackass needs a lesson. I dip behind the restaurant and find the waiter standing at the back door, pacing around.
“Hey.” I get his attention.
“Sir?” He looks at me, concerned.
“That asshole.” I nod toward the front of the building and smirk. “Want to handle him?” The smile from this employee is the only form of “yes” I need to see. He looks back into the kitchen and then back at me.
“What do you suggest?” He rubs his hands together.
“Just drop his drink on him and let me do the rest.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Just drop his drink?”
“I can trip you.” I laugh.
“No, I got you.” He turns and heads back inside.
I sneak back to the front and I take a seat just past the table of my pyromaniac and imitation model. My back is to their table and I sit waiting. My beautiful woman exits the inside of the restaurant and sits down. The gentle wind blows her perfume in my direction and I close my eyes, fully giving in to her. God, she is perfect.
“So, where were we?” he states. I can only imagine how he is wiggling those overdone eyebrows at her.
“Oh …um…” she starts. “I…”
The restaurant door opens, and the waiter comes out. She cuts her sentence off and waits for the all clear. This brilliant waiter pretends to trip, spilling the contents of this man’s drink all over him. He jumps up in a huff.
Three… Two… One…
“What the actual fuck? You ruined my shirt!” he screams at this waiter. The generic model rips his shirt off and I feel some of the alcohol droplets hit the back of my neck. I roll my head back and forth as quietly as I can. Finally, I turn to see him, his chest puffed out at this waiter. His back is to me and he is standing a bit too close. I see his wallet in his back pocket… internally giggling like a schoolgirl.
“It’s okay!” Reese is trying to calm him down so he doesn’t make a scene. I can feel her looking around and she is grabbing at his arm. “It’s okay. It was an accident.”
I quickly reach in and grab his wallet. Opening it up, I see his ID. The chubby man in the picture now changes my thoughts on him. I hate him more, so much more. Must have gotten in shape for a revenge body and now he’s flaunting it. Hello, hundred and fifty dollars. I grab a credit card and all the cash. He is still rambling on about his shirt, and I know Reese has had enough. She takes some cash out of her wallet and drops it on the table. Way more than her bill. She stands and walks.
“Wait!” He tries to stop her.
