Page 99 of On His Ranch

His eyes sparkled at her. “You remember. I’m touched.”

Oh, she remembered all right. Remembered far too well for her liking. Just now, inches away from him, she was haunted by the delicious memory of his hands on her skin… his lips on her breasts… his cock, huge and hard…

She stood up straight and did her best to look unruffled. “Well, if you’re intent on staying, I guess I’ll get you something to drink.”

“Just a coffee, please.”

“I’ll be right back.” She was eager to get away from him, frankly, and practically rushed back to the kitchen. She passed Wendy on the way who gave her a quizzical look, but she didn’t even stop for her friend.

Get ahold of yourself, Piper. You can’t do this. You can’t go down this road again. Remember how much he hurt you. Remember how much you hate him, she coached herself as she leaned over the ice machine, breathing in the cool, dry air and trying to calm herself.You hate him.

Except she didn’t. And she never had, not even when he was whipping her with his belt. If she hadn’t hated him then, how could she ever?

Fine, you don’t hate him. But you can’t be with him, either. He’s an asshole! He’s mean… and… and…

But that was where she’d always run out of steam, because his good qualities always seemed to outweigh the asshole argument.

I’ll just take him his coffee, she decided at last.It’s my job, that’s all. And he might leave a nice tip. He owes me that, at least.

Her hands were shaking as she carried the coffeepot over to Chase’s table. She steadied the cup with her other hand and mercifully was able to pour without making a mess. “There you go. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Think you could sit with me?”

“I’m busy,” she answered without a moment’s pause.

“Okay.” He picked up the cup and began to sip his coffee.

“Okay what?” She propped a hand on her hip, annoyed he could get her in such a state in ten words or less. She’d been doing fine without him—just fine! And now she was this shaky, unsure little girl again. She hated it.

And loved it. At least, if the knots in her belly tightening and loosening deliciously were any indication.

“I’ll wait,” he announced.

She felt irritation and delight flash through her with such speed, stacked one atop the other that it was dizzying. To hide it, she rolled her eyes. As soon as she did, her gaze flew to his face.

He’d noticed. She knew he had. The tell-tale muscle by his jaw was clenched.

Something inside her sang. Suddenly, warmth was flowing through her, she was tingling with excitement. “I won’t get off until late.”

“I’ll be right here.”

“You can’t do that.”

“And why not?” He raised the cup to his lips, but waited for her answer.

“I need the table. We don’t like loiterers here.”

“I’ll pay well for the privilege of stayin’ if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“‘Scuse me? Miss?” one of her customers beckoned.

She inhaled sharply, not as annoyed by his insistence as she should have been. Instead, she was frustrated another of her customers needed her. “I have to go.”

“So I gathered.”

“Whatever. Do what you want.” She shrugged and moved on to the table that had called her.

She tried to look normal—whatever that looked like—while she worked. She took orders, poured coffee, smiled and recommended dishes. She could feel his eyes all the while, following her every move. It was almost impossible not to acknowledge the burn of his gaze. She did her best to show indifference, but she counted down the seconds until it made sense for her to return to his table. He always waved her on after a few seconds, and she continued to pretend it made no difference, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She cared all right. She wanted him to wait for her. She wanted him to prove that she was important to him.

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