Prologue
Selena
“Oh, my goodness, go after him already.” Raven snaps her fingers in my face, trying to grab my attention. Too bad for her though. My eyes are glued to the man who’s been coming in here for the last few months like clockwork. Tall, tanned skin, dark hair that’s rich in color hanging loosely, longer on the top and sides. It makes me want to run my fingers through it. I watch as he sits at the bar that’s built into my family’s Tex-Mex restaurant, knowing I’ll be the lucky woman who will get to serve him. That is if I can quit gawking, get off my ass, and actually serve him the beer he prefers along with a shot of tequila. Today, Rhett’s in what I’ve learned is his business attire. He wears it when he’s in town for an auction or sales meetings for the business he and his family run, thoroughbred horses. A black button-up shirt, long in the sleeves, the snaps opened at his throat. And when he takes a sip of his drink, let me just say that his throat alone makes me need a tall glass of water. Add in his hazel eyes, the way Rhett’s smile lines frame the edges of his mouth when he grins or smirks at me, and my fingers are definitely getting a workout when I finally get home.
“I can’t. He doesn’t live here. It would never work,” I reply to Raven. She’s the peanut butter to my jelly when it comes to our friendship. The bestie for the restie, your hype girl, also known as your cheerleader.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. It’s not like he lives eight hours away. You know what I think?” This also means she doesn’t hold anything back and is a complete straight shooter.
“I’m sure you’ll tell me even if I don’t want to hear it, so go ahead, but make it quick because some people have to work today,” I tease her. Raven is a fly by-the-seat-of-her-pants type of personality, which is also why she makes the best out of everything.
“You bet your ass I am. It’s time to grab the bull by the horns.” She stands up and pretends to lasso some invisible animal. It causes me to laugh, which also puts Rhett’s focus on me.
“Okay, okay. I’ll attempt to take your advice.” We hug before she heads out the door to her job this late at night. I have no idea how she does it, but Raven manages all the same.
“You better,” she states over her shoulder. I shake my head, making my way to where Rhett is waiting to be served. I mean God forbid the other waitresses or waiters at least ask him what he’d like while I’m on the rare ten-minute break. This is the downside of your family owning a restaurant and your parents being gone for the night, leaving you with employees who clearly think they can get away with not helping out. I guess our next monthly meeting is going to be a bad one.
“Hey, Lena.” Rhett’s voice warms my blood and makes my legs clench with desire.
“Hi, Rhett, you want your usual?” He’s the only person who calls me Lena. I never liked the nickname, not even from my family, but the way Rhett says it, it’s more than okay.
“Please, but this time, I’m thinking I want something more too.” I walk around the bar until I’m behind it, feeling his gaze on my body the entire time. Thankfully, our uniforms are laid back here as long as we wear our shirts with our restaurant’s name, Maria’s Cucina, emblazoned on them. The homage made in my mother’s name. It was my father’s dream to open a restaurant. Mom was right there in Dad’s corner the entire time it was in the works. No matter how late they stayed up, how much debt they incurred, she never wavered. Which is why he named it after her in the first place.
“What’s this more you’re suggesting?” I grab his bottle of beer, Coors Light that Rhett prefers, along with a shot glass to pour in the Patron, another preference of his that he’s pretty set in his ways about.
“You and me, alone without you working.” The grin he gives me almost stops me from what I’m doing.
“Is that so? That could be arranged. When are you thinking?” I flirt with a smile. Rhett licks his lower lip, and I’m thinking he wants to share more than just a few drinks along with a meal, and I’m definitely on board.
“Tonight. Been in here too many times to keep this from happening.” Rhett isn’t wrong. For the past two months, he’s stopped in here before he returns to his hotel. Sometimes I even get to see him again before he heads back home. We talk for a few minutes, more often than not we flirt a little bit, and when he leaves that night, I’m the one imagining all the things his tongue can do to me while I use my fingers or toy to get me there while wishing like hell it was Rhett giving me an orgasm instead of myself.