“The fuck you do!” he yells out for the whole place to hear. “Where’s Maggie?”
He stands there, fists clenched, with a scowl on his face, and all I can think is how hot he is when he’s angry.
“She’s in the back. I started working here y—”
“I don’t give a damn when you started; I want you fired. Now. Go get Maggie!”
Patrons mumble under their breath. I look around and see them pointing to Torren, unintelligible whispers accompanying their shocked glances.
I’m equal parts aroused and irritated. He’s screaming at me in front of everyone. It’s one thing to have insane sexual tension, but it’s another to make a spectacle out of disrespecting me at work. He’s going to set the precedent that everyone at the diner can treat me like dirt, and that is not what I want.
I take a deep breath and rest my hands on the counter. “No.”
Torren scoffs, and his eyes blink at me. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. If you want to order a meal, then you can sit your hot ass down in a chair and order something politely.” My smirk is top-tier brat because I want to be playful. He needs to cool it, but I also want him to tear off my clothes and fuck me doggy style someday.
His eyes narrow at me, but then his face twists into a devilish grin. “I think I’d rather you sit your hot ass down on my face.”
He slaps his hand over his mouth, eyes bulging. I can tellthat slipped out of him, because he’s flabbergasted.
“That can be arranged, stud, but I’m at work now. Maybe later?” I say with a shrug of my shoulder, feigning a demure demeanor.
Big, tall, and fearsome closes his eyes and inhales. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, Gabe.”
Torren makes a beeline for the door, with Gabe hot on his trail. They speed off, and I’m left standing there watching the motorcycle race down the road.
Second encounter? Could have gone better.
Still really hot, though.
Thursday
I’m swamped today. Gilda told me that Thursday mornings are super busy, and she was not kidding. I’m running around, trying my best to keep up with my tables, when I see Torren and Gabe enter.
Torren’s gaze falls on me, and he sneers.
So hot.
I’d do anything to go over and seat them, but I’m in the middle of jotting down orders.
Gilda gets there first and shows them to the bar. I see her slide the donuts and coffee in front of them, and I mentally pout to myself.
I finish writing down the orders and make my way to the kitchen to drop it off.
When I return to the floor, I see a customer holding up his mug, so I run to grab the coffee carafe.
I can see Torren in the reflection of the metal coffee machine, and he’s staring at me.
At my butt, to be precise.
I make a point to stick it out a little bit and watch as his tongue trails along the seam of his lips.
My heart flutters. He isn’t scowling or sneering. He’s smiling—gazing at me with big brown eyes.
I stand for a moment, letting him look, loving the way it feels. I want to talk to him—banter like we did when we first met.
That’s when I work up the nerve to confront him. “Need a heater?”
