Page 35 of UnScripted

He smiles faintly, then looks down tapping his fingertips on the desk. “Still—I shouldn’t have done that. Especially here, when we’re both working. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have given a damn. I’d have hauled you in here or downstairs and would be eleven inches deep—ten-minutes ago,” he stops shaking his head as if to clear it, “I’m different now. I’m sober, quit smoking and I swore to myself I wouldn’t do shit like that here anymore now that I own this place.”

My stomach sours at the thought of him kissing, touching—god—fucking someone else.

“I should go,” I whisper, turning placing my hand on the doorknob. He made me forget why I’m even here. I lost myself in the moment… in the hope of what could start between us. But we can’t move forward without dealing with my past. And I’m not ready to tell him who I am before I find out who John and Dee were first.

“Dev, sugar… wait.”

He walks around the desk stopping two feet behind me. The heat from his body radiates forward as if he’s pressed up flat against me.

“I want to do this right with you. The club… we’re having our end of summer cookout on Saturday. It’s at a lake at the base of a mountain thirty minutes from here. Would you go with me as my date?”

My shoulders drop. I’m screaming inside. It’s the chance I’ve wanted, with the man I’ve wanted, and I can’t say yes.

“My best friend’s in town. She flew in to visit me. Actually, she’s coming in for dinner tonight.”

“I heard.All about it,” he teases.

“Federico has a big mouth,” I mutter.

“Bring her. It’s a large crowd, she’ll have fun.”

“O-okay. We’ll meet you there,” I reply darting out his door before he either hauls me in his arms again, or I cave and tell him all the secrets I’m hiding.

Somehow, I manage to take orders from the steady stream of customers without spilling a drink or tripping over my feet. Thoughts of Rog and his kiss are going to stick with me for a long time.

Maybe forever.

I saw him tear out of the lot shortly after I left his office and he hasn’t come back. I overheard that he and Federico went to the gym. In a way I’m glad he left, he sucks all the air out of the room when he’s around as it is. Now that I know what his body feels like under my hands and how he tastes… there’s no way I could work efficiently if he was here watching right now.

“Hey.”

I throw down the tray I was holding and spin around, throwing my arms around his neck.

“Toad! I missed you. Federico was okay, but you’re my fist pick for a babysitter.”

“Ah, it’s good to be back.”

“You might not say that when you find out what I have planned…,” I tell him picking up the tray and heading for the kitchen.

“Yeah… wait until you hear what he’s calling you.”

“My break is in five. Meet me out back? I’ll fix some sandwiches.”

The chef looks at me suspiciously as I run around his kitchen grabbing what I need. He’s skinny. Too skinny for a cook and doesn’t talk much either.

The feeling of mistrust seems mutual as he stops what he was doing and shakes his head.

“If ya’ wanted to eat all you have to do is ask and I’d fix ya’ something. I don’t like people messin’ in my kitchen.”

“Not even Rog?”

“Not evenjefe.”

“I’ll remember that next time. Just making sandwiches.”

“You better,” he emphasizes picking up his butcher’s knife and waving it before he slices more onions for the soup he’s preparing.

With a grin, I place all the food on a tray and walk out the back door of the kitchen over to a picnic table placed under a tree in the corner of the back lot.

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