Page 1 of I'll Catch You
1
Claire
I watchas the man in the parking lot shuts his car door behind him, punctuating the warm evening, and his gaze snaps to mine. His dark brown eyes pin me to the floor as he walks toward my little failingrestaurant.
When he approaches the door, I can’t help myself. I should hate him. Instead, I’m imagining him striding toward me, grabbing me by the waist, cruising a hand up the back of my neck, and pulling me toward him with a possessive, bruisingkiss.
His lips capture mine. His hands roam over my curves and he lifts me easily to sit me on the counter. My knees spread apart on either side of his legs and he takes my face in his hands, trailing his thumb from behind my ear to the hollow of my throat. My fingers come to his broad chest, knotting against his crisp white shirt as he blinds me with the pressure of his arms wrapping me up safe andsound.
My heartbeat becomes more rapid and a cage of butterflies opens up in my belly, tickling every inch of me. A ripple of desire pools in me and then explodes. He kisses me with ravenous, blind hunger. He whispers things in my ear. His warmth makes me feel secure. His touch knocks me offbalance.
I avert my gaze to go back to drying the mug in my hands. It slips through my fingers and flies to the floor, shattering onimpact.
“Dammit,” I mutter, squatting to the floor to pick up the broken porcelain. The restaurant is hemorrhaging money. I can’t even afford to replace thismug.
“Get your head out of the clouds, Claire! We have a customer!” Cassie squeals next to me. She rushes around the counter and grabs a menu, nearly knocking over the hostess stand to get to thedoor.
“Don’t look so desperate,” I shout-whisper at her, pulling myself back to reality. “He’s going to think there’s something wrong with the fish and go someplace else.” At this point I’m doing the math in my head to figure out if the check from this customer is going to cover keeping the lights on for another hour. Before I spotted him, I was considering closing upearly.
He’s the most downright handsome and beautiful man I’ve ever been in a twenty-mile radius of, and I already know that I have to hate him. He’s from the city, he has money, and he’s not here for the cornbread. He’s here to ask if I want to sell. He should have called instead. He could have saved the gas money and the three-hour drive. I’m not selling. Not until the electric company comes and shuts off the lights. No. Even then, I’m not selling. I’ll use candles. I’ll host mice fights in the back of the kitchen and run an illegal gambling ring before I’d sell. No. Ew. We don’t have mice and we neverwill.
Cassie looks over and gives me a big smile and two thumbs way up. I march around the counter and pat my niece on the head as I go over to snatch the menu fromCassie.
“I got this one,” I tellher.
“I need the tip,” she says, pulling the menu back from me. Then she looks through the door again. “Woah.”
The bells chime over the door as the man steps inside. He’s tall, well over six feet, and I feel a warm flush sweep over me again as his eyes find mine. He’s older than me and Cassie, probably in his late thirties, and he smells amazing. His deep, dark brown eyes nearly stop me in my tracks and the stubble on his face looks nice and good for running my fingers over to see how bad he’ll prick me. His lips are soft and his nose has the slightest crook in it, giving instant character to his otherwise-perfect bonestructure.
“Table for one?” I ask, and he nods his head and follows me to a booth. When he sits down, his gaze lingers at my chest for a second before he clears his throat and takes the menu from me. “Can I get you started with something todrink?”
“Sure,” he says, flipping over the single-page laminate. “I’ll take whatever local you have on tap. What’s your guys’ specialhere?”
I take the menu from him and feel his gaze drift to my hand. I put the menu down and point to the name of therestaurant.
“Fish and chips,” I tell him as though it weren’t obvious. I jerk the menu away from him and start back to thekitchen.
“Hey,” he protests, “I was still looking atthat.”
I know how these guys are. Call me prejudiced. I am. Call it unfair. It isn’t. If he’s here to try to buy this place, it’s to tear it down and build ocean-view condos. More people means more cars, more pollution, more noise, more of everything bad and lower quality of life for the people who have this place in their DNA. He’s the definition of everything that’s wrong with the world. He wants to sweep into town with his money and tear down my heritage to make room for something better. Even though the money could really help me out, I would be giving up too much in exchange for it. I won’t sell. Not until I haveto.
“Do you want the fish and chips or not?” I holler over myshoulder.
“Yes, I do,” he calls back tome.
“Okaythen.”
“Fine.”
Cassie is already back here in the kitchen washing her hands to prep this guy’s food. I pour him a pint of the local ale and grab a bottle of vinegar to bring out tohim.
“Here you are,” I say, dropping the items on the table. His gaze settles against me again and I can feel it everywhere. I can’t help that I’m attracted to him. Insanely, white-hot, can’t-stand-it attracted to him. It’s an involuntary physiologicalresponse.
“Excuse me,” he says after me. I back up and wipe my hands on my apron. He glances at my name tag. “Claire. I’d like to talk to your manager,please.”
I huff out a breath and put my hands on myhips.
“I am themanager.”
