Page 9 of The Playboy and the Waitress

He yawns big, shaking his head as I fold up the blanket. “I must have dozed off and didn’t realize it. I don’t think I have ever done that in my life, it has to be because it’s so quiet out here.”

“I believe that’s why it’s called peace and quiet.” I can’t help but laugh at the look on his face.

“Smart ass.”

“Just calling it like I see it, stud.”

He opens the back door for me and as we walk past my bedroom I notice the time on the dresser.Damn, it's morning already,I think to myself.

“Ok, this is not a pickup line or anything, but since you are just going to have to be right back here again in a few hours why don’t you crash on the couch until then?” I see him hesitate. “Dage, I'm not asking you to marry me. You're half dead on your feet and I would really hate for that pretty machine of yours to get damaged because you fell asleep at the wheel.”

“You’re worried about the car?”

“It’s hard not to, I think my heart would stop if I saw a scratch on it. That is a car girl's wet dream.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin your fantasy, so yeah, I’ll stay. I have a change of clothes in the car I can wear to work tomorrow if you don’t mind me borrowing your shower.”

“I think I can manage that. There is an end table in the corner next to the couch that has an extra blanket and a pillow in it. I'm going to fill the wood burner and take a shower before I head to bed. I will see you in the morning.”

I throw the wood in and practically run out of the room. I haven’t had anyone here in the house overnight in so long it feels weird, and the fact that I don’t know Dage doesn’t help. My mind is now inventing how many ways he can murder me as I rush through the quickest shower of my life. I grab my favorite jammies and jump into the bed, checking the nightstand for my pistol before I lay down. I hate not knowing what he is doing right now, but I’m too big of a coward to sneak through the hallway and peek into the living room. The house is quiet so at least he doesn’t seem to snore. I snuggle down into the blankets and try to quiet my mind. I must have dozed off because the sound of water running has me jerking straight up in the bed. It takes me a second to realize it’s the shower I'm hearing, and I almost panic until my brain comes back online.

Hell, I was so out of it I didn’t even hear Dage walking around in the house and that’s really not like me. I have always been a light sleeper. I look over at the clock and groan. If I hurry I can fix us a quick breakfast before we have to leave. There is nothing worse than working a double and then having to open the next morning.

I slip out of the bed, scratching my head as I pull my long hair up into a ponytail and head towards the kitchen. As I pass the couch I am shocked to see that all the blankets are folded neatly laying on its arm and the fire is going strong in the Buck stove. I grab a few things out of the fridge and turn the stove on as I restart the coffee pot.

“I hope you’re not allergic to anything,” I yell out…then I actually scream when he replies right behind me.

“Nope, so far I'm only allergic to bad cooking.”

I turn around so quickly that I almost hit him with the spatula I have in my hand. Then I nearly swallow my own tongue when I realize he is standing there without his shirt on. “Shit, I'm going to have to put a bell around your neck, no wonder I didn’t hear you walking around the house this morning.” He simply chuckles as I turn back towards the stove.Dammnnn,I think to myself.

“Smells good, what is it?”

“You have never had boiled eggs and summer sausage? Where have you been, in a cave?”

“I normally don’t eat breakfast. I tend to grab a coffee, a piece of toast, and head out.”

“This is the one meal I can’t miss or my whole day is off. It's all my mom's fault actually, she fixed my breakfast every morning when I was a kid, so you could say I'm now programmed this way.”

“All of us can’t be perfect you know. I mean what a flaw… a girl who wants breakfast. Ewww.”

I throw a piece of bread at him, and it hits him square in the chest before it falls to the floor. I can tell he doesn’t know how to react. He reaches down, picks the piece up, and I can see the mischievousness all over his face especially when he smiles. “You know, paybacks are a bitch, and the only reason I'm behaving is because this is your house.”

“Good to know for future reference. It will be a few more minutes on the eggs if you want to go ahead and finish getting ready. I don’t share my bathroom space well.”

I see him look me up and down right before he turns away. I look down and growl, of course, I would pick the most threadbare pair of jammies I have. I grab the light jacket I had on last night off the back of the chair and put it on. Hell, I have been standing here all this time with most of my parts barely covered.

It’s not that I'm ashamed of my body, but I'm not on the menu and I don’t want him thinking I am offering up the goods. I pull the eggs off the stove and run them under some cold water, cooling them down so I can peel them.

Grabbing a couple of paper plates, I yell out, “Come get it,” as I set them on the table. I whistle when I see him walking toward me in his fancy get-up. “Wow, look at you. You clean up quite well, Mr. Hart. Grab whatever you want to drink out of the fridge and grab me a Pepsi while you are there.”

“Pepsi for breakfast?”

I sit down at the table abruptly and act like I'm tearing up. “I have tried to quit, really I have… but the temptation is so strong…I simply can’t resist.” I sigh out loud, playing the drama queen. “I’m highly addicted to two things in my life… Pepsi and Chapstick and if I’m denied either of them for very long, I become…a monster.”

He sits my Pepsi down in front of me as he pulls his seat out. “Don’t give up your waitressing career for acting because I believe you would become broke quickly.”

“Such a critic, I thought it was some of my best work. I got the Pepsi, didn’t I?”

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