Read an Excerpt
He was back.
And watching her.
Readjusting her hold on the large, grey bin, Chaya Stevenson ignored the bead of sweat that trailed between her breasts, the man who made her have incredible dreams of passionate nights and mind-blowing sex, and got back to the task at hand. Bussing tables.
She lifted the platesâ€”still with food remnants on themâ€”and placed them in the container braced on her hip. Allowing herself one final peek at the man who, for the last three weeks, had come in every night she worked, she admired his looks.
He carried himself in such a way that it screamed 'capable' and 'powerful'. His hair was buzzed to about half an inch in length and his skin reminded her of smooth, melted, dark chocolate. A large man. Not fat large, noâ€”there wasnâ€™t an ounce of fat on him. He was muscular. Yet even that wasnâ€™t an overblown feature like some weightlifters acquired. His muscles seemed...natural.
Add to that the way his clothes fitted and she never lacked for a star player in her dreams. Tonight he was wearing blue jeans and a white button-down that had the top few pearly buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up, showcasing wellâ€”built forearms.
When Lottie, the waitress, sauntered over to him, coffee pot in hand, Chaya bit back her snarl of frustration, neither understanding nor appreciative of the jealousy that coursed through her.
What right do I have to be jealous over a man whose name I donâ€™t even know?
She dropped the remaining silverware into the bin and made short work of wiping the table before making the trek back into the kitchen.
"You get lost out there?" asked Tom, the cook.
"Thought Iâ€™d just take a break and shop for a while," she retorted, a half smile on her face.
"Hope you brought me something," the man said.
"Sure did. Dirty dishes."
She flashed him a wide grin as she took her place by the sinks and began to wash. The loud, powerful spray halted her conversation with Tom for the time being. As she worked she ignored the ache in her lower back and focused on why she had taken the second job.
She shook her hand and removed everything from her mind other than work. Now was not the time for dwelling on the past.
When her shift was over, she exited out the back. The cold air whipped around the building, slamming into her with considerable force, and she tugged her coat tighter while hastening her steps. Piedmont was a town along the Canadian border. Their winters sure got cold. Although not winter yet, if this was any indication of what was to come, it was going to be a long one. She climbed into her older model Toyota 4 Runner and started the ignition.
A shiver skated up her spine and she snapped her head up. Scanning the dimly lit area, she searched for the source of the feeling. Off to the right she saw a figure hidden in the shadows and thoughts immediately returned to the man from the diner.
Cripes, get a grip, she admonished herself.
Nevertheless. The fact remained that it had been him sheâ€™d thought about, mostly because the shiver she had experienced was similar to the ones he gave her when he stared at her inside the dinerâ€”sexual in nature.
As she drove away, she stole a final glance in the rear-view mirror. The air seemed to shimmer before...nothing.
Biting back a curse, she gave her driving all her attention and chalked her imagination up to being exhausted and horny. And hungry. Her stomach rumbled and she peered sideways at the bag sitting on the passenger seat with her meal in it.
Once in her driveway, she hurried inside. Sara Kelly lifted her bent head. Her blue eyes twinkled and she got to her feet.
"Hi," Sara said.
"Evening, Sara. How was he?"
Sara smiled and shrugged her shoulders, blonde hair moving in time with her movements. "Excellent. Heâ€™s very excited about the start of hockey season."