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Thirty-Two
MARCI
I grabthe jalapeño poppers and carry them into the diner, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. I’ve wanted to do this for as long as I can remember—a revamp—but I didn’t have the guts. And the fact that Jesse’s taken the images and we’re going to turn this into a positive outcome makes me giddy.
“This smells amazing,” Jesse says, as he sets down a plate of sliders on a table. “You’re lucky I didn’t eat them while I was taking pictures.”
“I appreciate it so much,” I say. “This is a huge step in the right direction. It’s so simple, I should have done it ages ago.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” He comes over and tucks his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. “You’ve been under a lot of pressure, and it’s not like any of this stuff is cheap.”
Jesse’s fingers toy with the hem of my shirt, brushing against the skin underneath. He presses his nose to my cheek.
“You should take off the apron,” he says.
I step out of his grasp.
“Since when do you tellmewhat to do, Taylor?”
But it’s said without heat or anger.
How can I be mad at him? He’s helping me with Billy, with money, with revamping the diner. I’m not even sure how I feel about Jesse anymore, especially after his confession when he thought I was asleep, and it scares the crap out of me.
I move backward through the diner, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
Jesse haunts my steps, stalking me again, and I love it.
I love how burly and strong he is, and the glint in his eyes like he’s about to lose control, the way his fists clench and release, like he’s barely keeping himself together.
“You should see yourself,” I say. “You’re such a thirsty boy.”
“And you’re a tall fucking drink of water. Come here.”
I laugh. “Or what? What are you going to do?”
Jesse grins.
“Answer me, Taylor. What are you going to do?”
“You forgot the magic word.”
I tap my chin, rolling my eyes up and to the side. “Hmm. Oh right. Jesse.”
“Fuck.” He squares his shoulders. “Fuck.”
“Baby,” I say.
“I’m going to bend you over this counter,” he growls. “In front of everyone.”
“There’s no one else here.”
I’ve reached the door that leads up to my apartment. I hit the light switch, plunging the diner into darkness. Lamplight from the street streaks through the front windows, illuminating the front of the diner.
“Are you upset about that, Angel?” he asks. “Do you want an audience?”
“An audience!”
“For when I fuck you until you can’t think anymore.”
