Page 39 of The Pucking Wrong Man

I’d tried to convince myself on our road trip this past week that I’d imagined her perfection, that I must’ve created an image that wasn’t real because perfection like that couldn’t really exist.

Seeing her tonight had been the same religious experience it had been when I saw her on that stage. Even clearly exhausted and done for the day, with dark circles under her eyes that had me wanting to punch something—she was, without a doubt, the most stunning creature I’d ever seen.

I’d also found out that my girl was incredibly kind.

Even worn down and working herself to death, everyone in the restaurant smiled at her as she worked. She’d stop and chat with an old guy I’d seen the last time I was here, filling his coffee when his waitress was too busy flirting with some coeds to help him. She’d crouched down and helped a mother soothe her crying toddler, grabbing a lollipop from the hostess stand and gifting it to him so he would be distracted and let his mom actually eat.

I straightened up in my seat when she suddenly reappeared, this time pushing a cart with two bins on top of it. She winced when the wheel hit something and a spray bottle landed on the floor with a clatter.

I hated seeing her work this hard. It made me sick actually. Someone had come out to sweep up the broken plates while she’d been in the back room—so at least she hadn’t had to do that.

Anastasia wasn’t a waitress, that part was surprising. A face like hers would have raked in all the tips. Charlie’s wasn’t fine dining, but it was established in the city, enough that I’d heard about it and recognized the name.

The mysteries just kept coming. Why was my gorgeous little dancer, with one of the most decorated dance companies in the country, cleaning up tables after dancing all day and then sleeping at a shelter at night? Where was her family?

I was truly flabbergasted at this point.

Flabbergasted...and chomping at the bit to step in and take care of her. The way she’d stared up at me with those otherworldly eyes, soaking in the slight touch I’d given her even though I was practically a stranger—I couldn’t wait to spoil her. Couldn’t wait to put that dreamy look in her eyes every day because her life was so fucking good.

My dick hardened at the thought.

I was pretty sure I had some kind of caregiver kink—there was probably a weird word attached to that particular preference, but I was firmly under its umbrella.

She rolled the cart past, clearly trying to look everywhere but at me. At the last second, though, she glanced over her shoulder, squeaking and yanking her face away when she saw that I had caught her.

I grinned.

Maybe I should have been playing it cool, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and she knew it too. There was a cute blush to her cheeks as she grabbed a napkin from the table across from me.

Anastasia bent over to grab an errant fork, and my attention got caught on her ass.

Fuck, every part of her really was perfect.

“Hello, sir, welcome to Charlie’s. My name is Whitney, and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear the specials?” I blinked, coming back from wherever staring at Anastasia took me. It certainly wasn’t earth, because now that I was back in reality, glancing at the hopeful looking waitress, I felt like I’d landed on an alien planet.

And I wasn’t happy to be there.

“Just a water, please,” I told her, glancing disinterestedly at the menu. Belatedly, I realized that she’d asked me if I was interested in the specials, but considering she was now blocking my view of Anastasia, my drink order was all she was going to get at the moment.

The waitress flinched at my tone, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

You’re being a dick, a voice whispered in my head, reminding me that I was nice to women—nice to a fault.

“And the grilled salmon platter,” I added, smoothing out the annoyance in my voice so she wouldn’t think I was upset with her.

Her shoulders dropped and she relaxed. Great...and now she was going to try and stay and chat.

“Whitney!” someone called, and she frowned and gave me a longing look before turning to leave.

“I’ll be back with your water in just a moment,” she said before striding away.

“Take your time,” I muttered under my breath, cursing when I saw that Anastasia had disappeared to the back again.

That’s how the rest of dinner went. Me living for glances of my girl...and her doing her best to avoid me.

An encouraging sign really, the more she ignored me, the more I knew I’d gotten under her skin. She was skittish, trying her best to stay away. But she couldn’t fool me. I saw the way she snuck looks in my direction. The way her cheeks blushed. She was as attracted to me as I was to her.

That was a good first step.

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