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What can I say? I’d been a busy woman. I hadn’t known a man in that way in a really long time. And, well, when a gorgeous man was standing in front of you, it seemed perfectly rational to wonder what was hiding in his pants. And what he could do with it.
But the body was nothing compared to the face, anyway.
All sharp, masculine features, black hair, brows, and thick lashes. And these intense blue-gray eyes that seemed deep enough to dive into.
We weren’t even going to get started on his voice.
I’d always had a thing for voices.
My mother claimed it was since I was a baby, that whenever a beautiful male voice was speaking, I would gravitate toward it, or be lulled to sleep by it.
His was definitely beautiful. Deep and smooth. It kind of washed over you when he spoke, cool and refreshing.
Ooookay then.
I needed to get a grip.
This was a customer, not a guy I’d met at the bar. Or, let’s be rational here, the plant section of the local home improvement store.
I needed to behave.
He even smelled good, too, though. Even if it was clear he hadn’t showered yet. It looked like he’d maybe had an early morning workout, then had possibly done some work on his car, judging by a bit of oil that seemed to be on his arm.
God, what did he smell like when he did shower and put himself together?
Like sin, I imagined.
When I got close to him to look over the menu with him, yeah, I was starting to wonder how bad for business it would be to kick the other customers out, lock the door, tell my mom to go take a walk, and then have this man hop me up on the counter, and slam deep inside of me, thrusting into me until we were both cascading toward oblivion.
I guess I was kind of thankful for the interruption when the door chimed again.
When I turned, I was surprised to see two more men making their way in. I thought, for a split second, that they were possibly friends of this handsome new stranger since their gaze was in his direction.
But then one of them reached into his jacket.
And came back with a gun.
Honestly, I don’t think I had any clear thoughts right then.
Just panic.
Just instinct.
I shoved Nino without even thinking.
Only to feel the bullets slice into my own body.
The pain was delayed for one stunned moment, even as I looked down to see the red blooming through my yellow apron.
The pain itself didn’t seem to set in until my body was collapsing down on top of Nino.
Then, oh, God, then, the pain was indescribable.
“Call the police,” Nino barked as he carefully pulled me up against his chest as he sat on the floor. “You’re going to be okay, sweetheart,” he said, voice tense, but comforting at the same time. “You’re going to be just fine. Try to take some deep breaths,” he said as he reached back onto the table, grabbing the two linen napkins, bunching them up in his big hand. “This is going to hurt, honey,” he said, then pressed them against the bullet wounds.
I think I screamed.
I might have even blacked out for a moment.
