Page 19 of His to Hunt

“Just the check,” the man sitting to my left says.

“I have that right here,” I say, reaching into my apron.

I make my rounds to the rest of the tables. Every time I glance at table ten, Victor is watching me. It should creep me out. Cause some worry. Raise a few red flags and sound a chorus of warning bells. But for some reason, it doesn’t. It just makes me blush and triggers a rush of moisture between my legs that soaks into my panties.

“Order up! Table ten!” Joe yells.

My coffeepot trembles in my hand when I hear him because it’s Victor’s order. I’m already struggling and I don’t understand why. My body is so screwed up I may need to skip the doctor and just find an exorcist. Then again, as unholy as my thoughts are right now, I’d probably burst into flames if I walked into a church.

“That guy at table ten really seems to like you, Taryn,” Frank murmurs, chuckling under his breath. “He even switched seats so he could see you better.”

“It was probably because the sun was in his eyes,” I mutter defensively. “You know how it is this time of day.”

“He’s got Taryn in his eyes, not the sun, you silly girl,” Frank says. “Write your number on his check when you give it to him if he doesn’t ask for it first.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say, hoping that will appease my boss.

I have trouble holding onto Victor’s plate when I walk back to his table. I start imagining how those rough, calloused hands would feel on my skin. How helpless I would be if I were pinned beneath his big, powerful frame. I even imagine myself screaming his name while my body responds in the way it’s already begging to do.

Now I’m so wet I’m afraid he will hear the sound of the slick between my thighs.

“Here’s your order, sir,” I whisper, putting it down. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Not yet, but I may want dessert,” he replies, looking at me instead of the menu. “I’ll let you know after I finish my lunch.”

“Okay,” I say, forcing myself to turn away, my chest tightening so much I’m struggling to breathe when I get back to the counter.

“You about to swoon?” Frank chuckles. “He asked for your number, didn’t he?”

“No, Frank,” I sigh, letting out a sharp exhale. “I’ll put my number on his check, just like you said.”

“Good,” Frank says. “Lunch rush is slowing down, so why don’t you go take your break?”

“Thank you.”

Joe’s busy working the grill, so I slip past him without saying a word. I open the back door and step into the alley. The fresh air is an immediate relief, and it feels like I can finally catch my breath. Finally get enough oxygen into my lungs to keep my head from spinning.

I don’t know what the hell is going on with me, but I can’t go on like this. I can’t wake up every day without knowing if I’m going to feel hungover, aroused, or just scared of the dark. I’m not even as comfortable in the basement as I used to be. Last night, it felt like someone was watching me down there, and that’s impossible. Right?

I only get a couple minutes to recover before Joe steps out into the alley and lights a cigarette. I want to run inside, but he’s standing in front of the door.

“What’s going on with you and that guy at table ten?” Joe asks, narrowing his eyes at me as he takes a drag from his cigarette. “Friend of yours?”

“Just another customer,” I mutter. “Frank wants me to write my number on the check.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Joe says, taking a step closer. “You’re already spoken for.”

“Um, Joe, I told you I’m not interested,” I let my words take on a little more force and shake my head. “Seriously, we have nothing in common. I don’t even like the music you play on the jukebox when we’re closing up.”

There are a million reasons I have no interest in Joe. I’m not sure why music is the one I landed on, but I’m trying to be polite. I still have to work with him once I extract myself from yet another uncomfortable situation.

“That’s because we haven’t spent any time together yet, sweetheart,” Joe deflects, taking a drag from his cigarette as he walks closer. I back up until I hit the dumpster and then I realize I’m cornered. “Once you get to know me, there’s plenty to like.”

The arousal dies inside me so fast it feels like the swamp between my thighs turns into the Sahara Desert.

“I’m sure there is, Joe. I’m just not the one for you,” I counter, my voice almost apologetic despite the fact he’s in my personal space. He’s so close now I can feel the heat beneath his stench.

“Well, sweetheart, Frank thinks otherwise,” Joe chuckles, brushing a hand across my cheek that makes bile rise in my throat. “And he’s the boss.”