and ready to just go the hell to bed, when suddenly, I hear the jingle of the diner’s front door.
Motherfucker.
The door I definitely forgot to lock.
With a groan, I stop leaning and trudge for the double doors into the dining area, my arms full of menus.
“Hello?”
I push the saloon doors open, and step out, and instantly, my world just sort of freezes.
He’s gorgeous. I mean, he’s a little terrifying, and dripping wet, and dressed in all black. But even with the wet clothes and the darkness of the place, I can’t help but stare at him.
He’s huge, for one. Also, that beard is freaking hot, just like the tattoo ink I can see on his hands and peeking out from his hoodie around his neck. The man looks up, and these absolutely stunning blue eyes pierce right into me, setting a fire going inside of me and taking my breath away. Like, literally taking the breath from my lungs, because I’ve never once seen eyes like those.
He pulls his beanie off, and I swallow as I take in the long dark brown hair pulled up into a knot on his head. Good lord, the man is beautiful, in this dark, sort of rough and scary biker kind of way.
“Um, hi,” I whisper.
The man unzips his leather jacket, and I swallow again.
“You closed?”
Whoa, did not expect that. The voice that comes out is thickly British—and not like a polished James Bond voice, more like a pirate, or a character out of a Guy Ritchie movie. And it is totally and completely and uncomfortably hot.
“No,” I blurt out before frowning. “Well, I mean, you can stay,” I say quickly. I bite my lip, my eyes sliding over him again before I catch myself and blush.
“I’m just cleaning up. Want something? The cook is gone, but I’m can do, like…” I shrug. “Toast or something?”
He frowns. “Nah, you’re closed,” he growls out in that panty-melting Jack Sparrow meets Christian Bale accent. “I’ll just wait out—”
Thunder booms, like the heavens are crashing down, and I can’t even stop myself from basically screaming and jolting like a total spaz. My cheeks burn, and I look away.
“Um, if you wanted to stay…” I laugh nervously. “I could use the company?”
The man grins a crooked, roguish smile that does something very electrifying to my core, making me shiver heatedly.
“I could use the dry.”
I smile and drop the menus on the counter and gesture towards a chair. The man nods and starts to move forward, but his eyes are locked on mine, never flinching, never blinking, and never looking away. Heat burns through me, and my legs squeeze together before I can even help it. My breath catches, and my heart races, and my eyes are just captivated by his as he stalks towards me, like he’s going to devour me.
And God help me, I want him to.
Chapter Three
Delphine
Oh fuck.
I stare, shamelessly, as the man stands to pull his hoodie off. His t-shirt peels up with it, and my jaw drops at the body my eyes land on. He’s carved out of freaking stone—pure freaking muscle, and absolutely covered with old-school style tattoos. His abs ripple and clench, and his chiseled chest flexes as he peels the hoodie off and tosses it aside. He pushes the shirt down, and I watch with wide eyes as he pulls his long hair which has just tumbled free back and holds it with a tie in a knot on top of his head.
He looks up, and he grins wolfishly when he catches me staring. Quickly, I whirl to pour him some coffee.
“Cream or sugar?”
“Got any whiskey?”
I grin, biting my lip.
“Yeah, I wish.”
“Just black would be great.”
I nod, oddly at a loss for words considering my usual chatterbox self as I pass him the mug.
“You sure you don’t want anything? Toast?”
He shakes his head while he sips at the coffee. “Nah, don’t worry about it.”
“It’s really not a problem.”
His eyes look up and hold mine again, taking my breath away as he grins. “Yeah, alright. I could do toast. Thanks.”
“Comin’ right up!”
I skip into the kitchen and immediately cringe at my dumb line. “Comin’ right up?” Really? I groan and grab a loaf of bread out of the reach in cooler and push two pieces into the toaster sitting on the counter. I glance over at the iPod plugged into the restaurant’s sound system.
“You want some music on?”
“Sure,” he growls from out at the counter.
“Any preference?”
He says something I don’t catch, and