Page 2 of Engaging with Her Enemy

He nodded, scanning the diner. “I'd hope to see her.” His focus settled on Becky again.

There it was, an unexpected warmth in his stare. The other scar above his right eye cut through his eyebrow, and the skin along his right forearm appeared as though he'd been burned at one time. No way she'd forget a man like him.

“She's on a trip until tomorrow.”

“I'll have to stop in to see her.”

The deep breath she took didn't ease the unexpected jitters. “I'm sure she'd like that. What's your name?” Another three men walked into the diner, reminding her that she didn't have time to make small talk with the sexy man. Tomorrow, she’d sure as hell pepper Ms. Iris with questions and find out how the man knew her.

He unfolded himself from his seat and held out his hand. “It seems strange to introduce myself.”

Becky scanned him from the ground up. His jeans fit snug, not like the baggy style worn by most guys. With his shirt tucked in, he looked as though he'd been brought up right. He stood a few inches taller than her, but that didn't take much. Maybe between five-nine or five-ten. Broad shoulders

“I guess it's hard for you to go anywhere unnoticed.” As she shook his hand, a tingling warmth crawled up her arm. Had it really been that long since she'd seen a hot guy? Her ex-boyfriend didn't fit into the “hot” category. Outside-the-lines sort of cute described him. Decent.

Nothing like a man who made her lick her lips that had suddenly become dry.

The guy hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “I'm sure you're pretty memorable yourself.”

“Probably not for the same reason.”

His half-smile confirmed that he could guess the directions of her thoughts.

“Hey, pretty lady, we're still waiting on you over here.”

Becky sighed, her eyes locked with the stranger standing before her with an almost expectant expression on his face. She smiled sweetly. “Excuse me. I'll put your order in as soon as I handle these polite gentlemen.”

“I expected no less.”

His comment puzzled her a moment before one of the men whistled a cat-call. Finally, the dumb asses pushed her over the edge.

She saw a few of the customers who'd known her most her life, locals from town, straighten in their chairs as they waited. They'd help. But she didn't need it, and they knew it.

Becky set her sights on her newest enemies: sleazy guy and sweaty guy. She sauntered toward them. There wasn't a man she'd met yet she couldn't cut down. And enjoy it in the process.

“I’m getting the vibe that y’all needed something?” She raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“Your phone number while we're in town. You sure are a good lookin' woman.” The sweaty guy licked his bottom lip. Instead of letting her stomach curl in revulsion, Becky narrowed her eyes. Some women could use their height or social status to intimidate. Becky had neither.

She slapped her hands down on the table, loud enough to get the attention of everyone in the diner. It rattled the ice in their drinks and knocked over the salt shaker. Two forks clattered to the ground.

A burst of fresh air and the jingle of the bell above the door signaled that someone had either came or went. Her focus stayed on her target: the idiot across from her. Although she spoke with an easygoing tone, the threat in her words usually met their mark.

“I realize that all of y’all think you're some damn, prize catch. I get it. I really do.” She motioned toward them. “The pit stains on your dirty white shirts. The red mud clinging to your boots that you didn't have the decency to knock off. That strong smell that has followed all y'all around since you first stepped foot into the diner.” She smiled slowly as they shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. “Classy women must climb over one another with the hope y'all would notice them. So, I should feel flattered that you think of me as your Sugar or Girlie.” She fanned herself with a lack of effort. “I'm turned on just thinkin' 'bout the amazing time we'd have together.”

After she let that settle in, and the chuckles around her died down, she took out her pad and scribbled the total that she hoped was right. She slammed the receipt down on the table, making the men jump and knocking the pepper shaker over. Her voice rose. “If youboysthink you can behave, then I'd say please come back. If you feel like shouting at me like you're at some second-rate honky-tonk, then you can take your business elsewhere.” She turned and walked away, past the hot stranger and to the kitchen. Turning around one last time, she bumped the door with her rear and scanned the dining room. Most of the regulars had gone back to their dinner. It wasn't the first time she'd set someone straight in public.

A few of the newcomers, the construction crew she assumed, laughed at their coworkers, who kept their head down and fished out their money.

The stranger, the one with the amused brown eyes and smirk on his face, stared at her. He blew out a breath and rolled his shoulders. It struck her as familiar.

She'd have to think about it when she had a minute to spare. Ron loaded up a tray for her with her next order. Only fifteen minutes until Eliza relieved her. Becky had lied to Eliza, asking her to fill in because Becky needed time to bake a few cakes and pies for the diner and some cookies for the store on the edge of town.

No one knew about the night classes at the college. Not even her best friend, Juliana.

School, college specifically, had never been a life-long aspiration. Getting through twelve grades and fighting for a high school diploma had been hard enough. But Ms. Iris had approached her about taking over the diner a couple years ago. No way in hell she'd take on running a business with a barely passing high school diploma.

With a stiff breath, she pushed out of the kitchen to deliver another tray of food. Focus on school, not on the hunky man that made her do a double-take each time she walked past his table.

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