Page 11 of Broken-Hearted

“So you’d know to invite me in, Clara Vincent. I’d need to know what you taste like.”

I press my back harder against the wall, balling my hands to keep them to myself. “You wouldn’t be missing much because I don’t taste like anything.”

He lifts a hand.

I brace myself to push him away. If he thinks this bit of flirtation is all it will take for me to follow him to Hardin, he has another thing coming.

His eyes sparkle in amusement as he rests his palm on the wall over my head. Not touching. But close.Dangerouslyclose.

“See, I have in my mind that you’d taste of sweet heat and potent need, Clara Vincent. One taste and I’d growl and haul you against me.”

I lose my breath again. “Haulme?”

Why does that sound like something I might want?

He nods. “Definitely. I’d want every part of you touching me when I deepened the kiss.”

I feign casualness. “You sound like you’ve given this kiss a great deal of thought.”

His mouth quirks into a sexy half-smile. “Only every minute of the day.”

I snort. “What happened to keeping me safe?”

“I can multitask.” He leans closer. “So while I’m giving you this kiss, I’d be running my hand over your?—”

Bang.

I whip my head toward the door, hating whoever that was for not waiting two blasted seconds until I found out where Nathan would be running his hand.

It’s O’Shane.

Cursing out your new boss who gave you a place to sleep would be a shitty thing to do.Especiallywhen he’s looking at his wristwatch like you’re late.

So I swallow my curse and ignore his curious gaze bouncing between me and Nathan.

“Everything all right out here?” O’Shane asks.

My dark-haired and bearded boss is in a chef's white jacket and black jeans because he does most of the cooking. He has a short-order cook who comes in during the busy peak lunchtime rush since finding a full-time chef must be as hard as finding a waitress in Rosenwood.

I swear his eyes lit up when I asked when he was hiring, and he couldn’t do enough to help me when I lied about my boyfriend dumping me in this town and taking off.

Knowing I can’t stay makes me feel bad. He’s been nice, and it can’t be easy running a diner in a town where hiring staff is a challenge. It’s why I haven’t slacked off even once since I started working here.

Except now.

Because… well, Nathan Blackshaw knows how to distract a girl.

I slip around Nathan. “Peachy.”

“Hmm…”

I whip my head toward Nathan. He has his eyes firmly fixed on my ass. There’s no question what he meant when he drawled out peachy like that.

My cheeks burn.

I’d slap him if my boss wasn’t right there, but I say nothing and walk into work, skirting around O’Shane, who holds the door open for me. I’m ready to start my double shift, and I’m determined to work as hard as I did the day before.

Nathan follows me in, parks himself at one of my tables, and doesn’t move again.

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