Page 38 of Waitress at the Shadow Ridge Inn
“Get dressed,” he said in that quiet yet commanding way of his, “and I’ll take you into town.”
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Steve was waitingfor me when I returned to the kitchen, fully dressed and wearing enough makeup to make the burgeoning purple shadows under my eyes barely noticeable. Our mugs and the coffeepot were washed and sitting in the drainer.
“Do you rescue puppies too?” I asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, you rescued me last night, not once, but twice. You gave me three orgasms this morning. And you did my dishes. It’s a logical question.”
He smirked at me. Normally, I found smirks arrogant and unattractive, but on him, it was damn sexy.
“Not lately, but I am planning on taking you to breakfast. We can stop at the shelter on the way and see what happens.”
My nipples began to pebble again.
“Don’t you have to go to work or something?” I asked, forcibly veering away from thoughts of getting him naked and returning some favors. Of getting my hands on him. Or my mouth.
Stop it.
His eyes glowed, as if he could read my thoughts. “I took the day off.”
“Can you do that?”
“One of the perks of being my own boss.”
“I thought you said you worked for your family.”
“I said my family owned a construction business. They hire me for their projects, but technically, I’m self-employed.”
“Hmm,” I hummed.
I’d often thought of going into business for myself. Once I claimed my inheritance, I wouldn’t have to work, but I would miss having a job and the sense of purpose that went with it. Maybe after I stopped running and faced my demons, I’d open up my own small-business accounting office. I wondered if Shadow Ridge had a CPA.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Just about. Give me a minute.”
I went around the cottage, ensuring the windows and doors were locked, discreetly placing Scotch tape and toothpicks and strands of hair around so I’d know if anyone entered while I was away.
I could feel Steve watching me. He said nothing, but by the time I stood by the door and said I was good to go, his expression was somber, and the muscles in his neck and shoulders were tense.
He opened the passenger door for me and waited until I climbed in. It was such a Steve thing to do—pull off a gentlemanly move after completely and totally ravishing me.
“You really are a unicorn,” I murmured. “Not many men open doors for women these days.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Not at all.”
“Good.”
As we made our way down the mountain, we passed the spot where I’d gone off the road. Just a hundred yards farther was a steep drop-off that probably resembled Niagara Falls when we got a lot of rain. I could only imagine what it had looked like during the height of last night’s storm. Or how long it would have taken to find my body had I gone off there.
“I don’t know how you found me,” I told him, suppressing a shudder. “It’s daytime, and I can’t even see my car.”
“That’s because it’s not there. I called Chuck this morning. He came up and towed it back to the garage already.”
