Page 2 of Lack of In-between
By the time he’d realized what it was, he’d been out of the diner already. When he looked back through the plate glass windows, Rose was standing behind the register, and she’d lifted a hand to wave. He’d almost gone back inside, would have if she hadn’t whirled and dashed into the kitchen. Running away as clearly as if she’d held up a sign stating her intended avoidance.
Wolf had gone home and drilled a hole in the disc that night, attaching it to a ring and swapping his keys over. Now, when he handled his keys, he remembered that instant of wonder when he’d read the words the first time.
His next trip to the diner had been equal parts intriguing and frustrating. While he’d clearly been seated in her area, she hadn’t served him and quickly disappeared, the other waitress rolling her eyes when she first approached his table. Distracted, he hadn’t even glanced at her as he ordered, then looked up and asked, “Where’s Rose?”
Another eye roll, then, “She’s busy.”
He’d looked around the diner, where only a handful of tables were occupied. “Uh-huh.” Wolf considered his options and decided to go for direct instead of beating around the bush. “Give her a message for me when you take my order back, okay?” The waitress had already taken a couple of steps away, but she’d paused at his words and looked back at him. “Tell her thank you, and that I’ll do my best.”
Since then, he’d had exactly zero chances to talk to her. Seeing her at the party tonight had his chest puffing out, imagining she’d come to be with him. Only now she was gone without a word, with scarcely a shared glance between them.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
He turned and looked down at the woman who’d approached him. Pretty, but young. So damned young. Blond, not redheaded. Blue eyes, not green. Whipcord thin, not curved for days and made for his hands.
Wolf smiled and tipped his head, indicating a group of men just up the way who were already eyeing the young woman. “They’d be better company tonight, darlin’.”
Her bottom lip pushed out as she pouted prettily. “I saw them.” She paused and fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly, something he didn’t realize he detested until he watched her do it. “I came to you. I like my men with some experience under their belt.” Her hand lifted and rested on his arm, and the wrongness of it all struck him so he shook her off and stepped backwards, away from her.
“This is me trying to be polite.” Lifting his chin, he indicated the parking lot. “You might be better served by looking elsewhere entirely, if you won’t take rejection well. BFMC men aren’t famous for our kindliness.”
Her mouth flew open, then shut, and she stared up at him. Without moving. He sighed.
“If you won’t take your leave, then I will.” Tipping an imaginary hat to her, he sauntered off. “See ya.”
On the bike and in the wind, he let the events of the night wash away, his attention focused on the machine he rode, the light traffic, and the shadows along the ditches that could contain deer or other wild critters. An hour passed, then two, and he realized he’d circled back around and was on approach to town via the highway that ran in front of the diner. On impulse, he pulled into the lot, and somehow he wasn’t surprised to see Rose’s car parked in back.
Stepping off the bike, he stretched as he looked into the front windows of the diner.
Rose was watching him.
If he stretched a little more than was absolutely necessary, he’d never admit it.
Two
Rose
“Oh my Jesus.”
It was only when the customer’s voice faltered and paused that Rose knew she’d spoken aloud. She blinked hard and tipped her chin down, smiling at the couple seated across the table from each other. She recited their order, finishing with, “Did I get everything?” When the husband nodded—Rose thought they were married, or at least the woman was, because she wore rings while the man’s fingers were bare of ornament—Rose flashed them a smile as she turned to walk away. “I’ll get this put in for you and be right back with your drinks.”
She hadn’t quite made it into the kitchen when the outside door whooshed open, bringing in the smell of the woods, motorcycle exhaust, and something she’d come to know as uniquely Wolf. One hand on the in-passage door, she paused and glanced at the man who’d just walked inside. His form was tall and broad, his shoulders filling out the leather jacket he wore so well. Wolf was a member of the Borderline Freaks MC, a local biker club that did a lot to disrupt the media’s depiction of what a club more typically was. The jacket wasn’t a fashion accessory but a necessary part of everyday attire for this man. Until he stretched like he had a few moments ago, the jacket and shirt under it riding up to reveal a broad strip of skin above the waistband of his jeans. Then it was as revealing and enticing as a full-monty show. That had been what drew her attention away from the customers.
He’d been coming to the diner for months now. Rose had been working the first time the BFMC had made a stop for food, but another waitress had served his table that day. Rose had found her gaze returning to him repeatedly throughout the time the club members spent in the diner, then had stood at the window and watched while he mounted his bike and rode away. It wasn’t until he’d turned back to the building and given her a wave goodbye that she’d embarrassedly realized her interest hadn’t gone unnoticed.
The next time Wolf came in was only a few days later, and she hadn’t been quick enough to hide in the kitchen. Rose knew her cheeks had been red when she took his order, silently rebuffing his attempts to engage her in conversation. That had only seemed to increase his interest in her, and Wolf had taken to coming in every few days. He’d park and then pause before entering, apparently verifying which section she was working. Once inside he’d slide into a seat where she’d have to wait on him, that grin he always wore growing wider at her stammered words.
Now, Wolf cocked his head to one side and, smiling, asked, “Everything okay, Rose?”
She realized she’d been frozen in place, hand on the door, eyes on him.Oh my Jesus. “Right as rain, Wolf. Take a seat anywhere. I’m by myself tonight.” Which meant there was no chance of foisting her table off on another waitress, just to keep temptation at bay. “I’ll be right with you.”
Pushing into the kitchen, she paused just inside the door and let her lungful of air out in a long exhale. Just being in the same room as that man had her ovaries working extra hard to talk her into jumping his bones. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. At six foot four inches, he still loomed over her taller-than-average frame by six inches. The man was confident, former military, able to hold his own in a conversation with a variety of people—and kind.
So kind, even when he thought no one was looking.
She’d watched him hold the door for an elderly couple one night, then learned later from friend-and-fellow-waitress Jenn that he’d paid for their meal, too.
It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes, too, the scruff on his jaw lending him an air of authority she’d often imagined carried through to the bedroom. Oh, and her imagination hadn’t stopped there, bringing her night after night of steamy mental images in her dreams. Hot, fit, sweet, and seemingly in pursuit of her.It doesn’t matter what my body thinks.
