“Kissing before names? I’m not the one moving too fast.”
“Fine, we’ll do it your way. We swapped names…”
“Give the poor girl a break, Bennett. Let her do her job.” Roarke leans forward but his tone doesn’t convince me that he wants Bennett to stop.
I can’t believe what I decide to do. Meeting Roarke’s eyes, I set a hand on his arm. “My job is to make sure you’re both satisfied customers.”
There’s zero hint of him recognizing me. Wow.
“Be careful what you offer to a couple of workaholic doctors.” Roarke’s voice is strained as he drags a hand through his hair. He’s in his forties, but the stress of his job has silver setting in prematurely. He wears it well.
“Are you trying to say you’d take me up on an offer?” Have I crossed a line? If he suddenly remembers who I am, that statement becomes cringe-tastic.
Bennett glances at Mammoth then back at me. “Good girls don’t just make offers, they follow through.”
“Who says I’m a good girl?” Did that come out right? The excessive sway in my hips should clarify as I immediately spin around and head back to the wall-mounted computer to run his card. What has gotten into me? I’ve never gone this far with a customer. If my boss overhears, I’ll be fired, and this is not the time to lose my job.
Okay Calli, you’ve had your fun, now reel it in…not Bennett and Roarke, don’t reel them in. Don’t get yourself fired.
Warmth blankets me from behind. It’s Roarke, I can sense it, even though he doesn’t say anything. I take a deep breath, which ends up filling me with his scent more than steadying me. I grip the edge of the counter.
What would it be like to have a boyfriend like him? Someone with his shit together. Someone who doesn’t have to worry about whether his paycheck has cleared or not before we go out.
He whispers, “Same time, same place tomorrow?”
I nod before turning to him. He’s so close. It’s not appropriate and yet, I capitalize on it, pressing Bennett’s credit card and receipt to his chest. “Don’t stand me up.”
If I had any doubt as to how nice it would feel to run my hands over his chest, it’s now clear. The man feels as sexy as he looks.
Two
Roarke
Idon’thavetodo any math to figure out I’m too old for Caroline. The harder calculation is what made her feel so familiar. I’d remember a woman like her.
But here I am at the diner again, eager to flirt. She’s sassy, easy to talk to, and makes me feel young and desirable again. She makes me question if devoting my entire adult life to the hospital was the right thing to do, or if I should have lived more.
Is forty-three too young for a mid-life crisis? That’s the only rational explanation for why I can’t pull my thoughts from the gorgeous, red-headed waitress who’s making her way to our table. My less rational thoughts include things like us being soulmates. Are those even real?
I calm my dick down as she stops at our table. Her smile is the answer to every question I’ve ever had.
“Hey boys, I wasn’t sure if you were just teasing me yesterday, but here you are.” She sets the menus on the table, winks at me, and turns to Bennett, spiking jealousy through my heart.
If I’m honest, she looks at him the same way she looks at me, and flirts the same too. Why am so fucking hesitant to put two and two together? She’s not my soulmate…she’s friendly.
We share lighthearted banter before she heads to the next table, and I tamp down another round of jealousy.
I’m not ready to admit that what I want isn’t on the laminated, double-sided list of offerings. Besides, Bennett’s a few years younger than me, and my stress-induced smattering of gray makes me look like the old guy next to him.
I’ll be the first to point out I haven’t let myself go, though. Part of staying on top of my mental game is to stay in great physical shape. If I had to rip my shirt off and go head-to-head with Bennett, I’d accept the challenge.
That’s the most unsettling thing. A woman’s never stirred me up like this. My wife came close, but she’s long gone, and I doubt we would have gotten married if she hadn’t gotten pregnant.
Caroline comes back to our table, with her notepad and pen in hand. A young woman like her deserves better than me anyway. I’m never home. That’s why I not only lost my wife, and my daughter and I barely know each other even though I raised her.
“Do my favorite customers see anything they like?” Her flirting feels too damn real.
I need to go on dates or something more appropriate than jacking off in the middle of the night when Caroline invades my dreams.