by Lori Foster
She kept her head high and a reserved smile on her frozen face. “Thank you, Andrew.”
Andrew looked as stiff as she felt. “My pleasure.”
Without a backward glance, she walked out. This was difficult, and bound to get more so. But what could she do? She loved him, and for once she wanted to follow her heart rather than her parents’ expectations.
For once she wanted to be a woman, not just a lady.
Grace was in the middle of applying a light touch of makeup when her doorbell rang. She had exactly one hour to finish and get to Ben’s hotel for her job interview. She was strangely excited.
“Coming,” she yelled when the doorbell rang yet again. She closed her compact and headed for the door. Her long sleep shirt was wrinkled from a night of tossing and turning in between erotic dreams. Her flannel pants dragged the floor, almost hiding her thick gray socks. Her heavy hair, contained atop her head with a cloth-coated rubber band, wobbled as she bent to peek through the peephole.
Noah stood there, looking impatient. “Open up, Grace.”
She straightened with a jerk. Elation hit her first; she’d missed him so much!
Bemusement quickly followed because after Agatha’s painful phone call, she’d really planned to try to look her best when next she saw him. The clothes she wore, not to mention the mess of her hair, were about as far from her best as she could get.
Trying to improvise, Grace called through the door, “What are you doing here, Noah?”
The question must have thrown him because he pounded on the door so hard it about stopped her heart. “Open up,” he said again, this time with some annoyance.
Giving up, Grace turned the locks and pulled the door wide. “Hi.” Her smile came easily. No matter what, Noah still made her heart lift and her body tingle. He looked especially good today in casual black slacks and a soft gray pullover. The dark colors made the pale blue of his eyes more noticeable than ever.
He’d never been in her apartment before and he started to automatically look around. But his gaze got caught on her, instead. He went still as he quietly scrutinized her body, starting with her piled-up hair and ending at her thick socks. Obviously amused, one side of his mouth kicked up and he said, “Hey.”
“You want to come in?” Grace asked, a little unnerved by that hot stare. It made her jumpy and needy, and truth was, she didn’t have time for that right now. She had an appointment to keep.
Noah stepped in and closed the door behind him, then leaned on it. His gaze did dart around her uncluttered living room but came right back to her. “You look cute.”
Cute, in Grace’s estimation, was not a term reserved for women who tipped the scales the way she did. Cute referred to “little” things or people. “Um…thanks.”
He still watched her. “Come here, Grace.”
Grace knew what that look in his eyes meant, especially when accompanied by that husky tone. She cleared her throat and asked, “Why?”
“Come here,” he countered, “and I’ll show you why.”
Damn, damn, damn. The man was far too tempting. “Noah,” she complained, even as she found herself inching forward, “you have lousy timing.”
He stalled and his eyes narrowed. “You have another date?”
She scoffed at that. “No. I have to finish getting ready. I have a job interview today at noon.”
Noah had started to reach for her, but at her announcement, he dropped his hands. “A job interview? Where?”
“I don’t want to tell you where yet. I may not get it, and then I’d be embarrassed.”
He looked surprised by that admission and finally pulled her to him. Hugging her close into his chest, Noah said, “You don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me, Grace.”
“I know I don’t have to be, but I still would. I want this job. It’s sounds like fun and I think I can make enough money there.”
Noah tipped her back to see her face. “When do you have to be there?”
“Noon.”
He rubbed his hands up and down her back, stopping to squeeze her waist beneath the large shirt. “We’ve got an hour.”
“Now stop that!” Grace swatted at him, then settled her hands flat on his chest. She could feel the steady thumping of his heart. “I have to be there in an hour, but it’s a half-hour drive and I’m not even dressed yet. If I’d known you were coming over…”
“Sorry. I finished some errands early.” As if they’d been lovers for months instead of days, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I should have called first?”
“No, I don’t mean that.” The last thing Grace wanted to do was discourage Noah from seeing her. She smiled. “Let it go on the record right now that you’re welcome to drop in any time. I just wish I didn’t have to go. Now that you’re here, I want to be here, too.”
“How long will you be?”
“I’m not sure. He said something about a trial run, so he may work me a few hours or something.”
“He?”
Grace blinked at the particular tone infused in that one word. Surely that wasn’t possessiveness she heard. More likely it was mere curiosity. “The person who would hire me. He owns a business—a nice, respectable business—and he needs a new employee.”
“I see.”
He still looked disgruntled, and Grace patted him. “I am sorry, Noah.” And then, feeling a little shy, she added, “I missed you.”
“That right?” His smile relaxed and his look became lazy. He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers. With his breath brushing her mouth, he whispered, “Did you think about me last night, Gracie? About what we did?”
“Yes.”
“Me, too.”
She gulped. “I’m thinking about it right now.”
“Good.” Using the edge of his hand, he tipped up her face. “Then how about a kiss to tide me over until I can get you naked again?”
Grace wrapped both arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. Noah let her have her way, bending enough to accommodate her but not taking the lead. It was wonderful, as she’d known it would be.
Noah tasted hot and exciting, and when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, he made a rough sound of pleasure that shivered down her spine and into her heart.
Pulling back the tiniest bit, Noah whispered, “You know, if I took you into the bedroom, the decision would be out of your hands.”
The fog left Grace’s muddled brain slowly, and she frowned. Maybe this sex-slave business would be more complicated than she’d figured on.
Noah pressed her, saying, “Right, Grace?”
She scowled, wondering if he’d be cad enough to take such an advantage. “I suppose,” she muttered.
He grinned and kissed her again. “Good thing I’m a generous task master, huh? At least, when I need to be.” He patted her behind and stepped back. “But my patience isn’t unlimited, woman. When can I see you?”
Both relieved and shamefully disappointed, Grace said, “I’m not sure. Do you…do you want me to maybe call you when I find out?” She hoped Noah didn’t take that as an intrusion on his privacy. This relationship business, even if sexual rather than romantic in nature, had invisible lines that couldn’t be crossed. Grace just didn’t have enough experience to know what those lines might be.
Noah didn’t even blink. “You’ve got my cell phone number, right?”
Relieved, Grace nodded. “I’ve got the numbers for anyone who ever had contact with Agatha.” She didn’t mention that she knew his home and cell phone numbers by heart. “I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”
Noah started to leave but hesitated at the last second. He turned back to Grace, cupped her face gently in his large, hot hands, and kissed her witless. “I like your hair like that. I like it down, too. And Grace, I love how you look at me.”
Grace stared at the closed door for several moments after Noah had gone. She couldn’t remember ever being so happy.
Ben watched Grace work and had to sh
ake his head in wonder. Damn, he never would have believed it, but she was perfect. Her smile, genuine in nature without an ounce of flirtation, did incredible things to every guy in the room. From five months old to eighty-five, they all responded to her. Grace somehow lit the place up, made it seem happier, more relaxed.
Better.
Ben had no illusions. He was prosperous enough with his moderate, spotlessly clean hotel. He offered quiet, efficient service, so the rooms almost always stayed booked. And because he was located right off the expressway, the diner drew a lot of passersby, including regular truckers who stopped for breakfast and lunch.
Ben was happy with how things were going, but his clientele didn’t include elite vacationers booked by upscale travel agents. More often than not, those who checked in were financially tight at best, on the shady side at worst. His spacious and orderly parking lot was filled with dusty, rusty, aged vehicles, and the luggage that passed through his doors often looked like it’d been through a war.
But he liked these people, and he related to them.
Luckily, this was his quiet crowd, a mix of truckers and families who’d stopped for lunch and not much drinking, so they rarely got out of hand. In fact, lunch tended to be subdued to the point of morbid.
Today people were chatting and laughing—responding to Grace. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and even his old balding cook, Horace, whistled while frying cheese sandwiches. Grace had struck an immediate rapport with the surly cook merely by admiring his tattoo. It was a naked woman, shown from the back, with her legs wrapped around his biceps. When Horace flexed his arm, the woman’s ass wiggled.
Horace had done plenty of flexing for Grace, and she’d been genuinely enthralled each and every time. The bond was forged.
She had a similar effect on everyone.
And Grace loved it. Her pretty brown eyes were alight with pleasure as she went from one task to the next without pause. Ben continued to watch her, and he continued to be amazed.
He could see what Noah found so attractive—inside and out. How he’d known her so long and never noticed amazed Ben.
Rushing up to him moments later, Grace said under her breath, “A six-dollar tip!” She squeezed the money as if it were gold rather than a few crumpled bills, and then she stuffed it into her apron pocket. “Do you believe that? And I only served him a deluxe burger and fries. Amazing. I love this job, Ben.”
Then she was off again, warmly greeting a young couple who had just come in, waving to acknowledge a man in a booth who wanted more coffee. She was a bundle of inexhaustible energy and generosity.
Ben had to hire her, no way around it.
He had hoped there’d be an excuse to gently turn her down. There’d been the slight possibility that she’d confuse or forget orders. Or that she’d be put off by the familiarity of some of the customers who couldn’t seem to remember that this was the enlightened age of equality between the sexes.
But not Grace. She didn’t take offense at anything, but she did get her point across. When one wizened old man had called her sweetie, she’d patted his wrinkled cheek and said, “Sure thing, pops,” and then put an extra scoop of ice cream on his apple pie. The old guy had been so infatuated, he’d nearly slid off his bar stool.
There was only one hope left, and that was in the uniform each waitress was required to wear. Ben had never seen Grace in a skirt above her knees, so perhaps she’d balk at the semishort tan dresses, covered only by crisp white utility aprons. They were serviceable outfits, but they also had a vague resemblance to something out of a fetish catalogue. A few of his younger waitresses went so far as to wear heels with the dresses. Somehow he knew Grace wouldn’t.
Ben snagged Grace as she started back to the kitchen. “A moment, Gracie.”
Her cheeks were flushed, her long hair held back in a ponytail that swished around the small of her back. “Okay, but can we make it quick?” she asked. “I’ve got orders piling up.”
Conscientious to boot. Ben just knew Noah was going to kill him for hiring Grace, but what else could he do? He drew a breath and bit the bullet. “You’ve got the job. Can you start tomorrow?”
Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, and then she let out a loud, uncharacteristic whoop and threw herself against him for a hearty hug.
Touched, unable not to smile, too, Ben returned the tight embrace. Grace was soft and warm and he liked hugging her. She made him feel good. “It’s just a job, Gracie.”
“Oh, no. It’s a fun job, and everyone is so friendly, and I like this so much more than sitting in the library taking notes or doing correspondence or putting things on the computer for hours on end. That was so boring and so…lonely.”
Ben scowled. Agatha had near worked Grace to death and had never given her the appreciation she deserved.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake.
Squeezing her again, Ben said, “Well, you’ve certainly impressed me. Customers have been hanging around longer just to talk with you.”
She pushed back from his chest to blink at him. “They have?”
With his arms looped casually around her waist, Ben grinned. “You didn’t realize? Hell, Grace, you’re a hit. A lot of truck drivers stop in here for coffee and sandwiches, and most times they look miserable. They’ve been on the road for hours and they’re tired and lonesome. Today, in less than an hour, you had them all smiling.”
“I did?” She sounded so hopeful.
Ben gently turned her. “Look around, Grace.”
Her attention went from one booth to the next, one bar stool to another. She gripped her hands in front of her. “They all look…happy.”
“Not usually, but yeah, today they’re lighthearted.” He leaned down and kissed her ear. “Cuz of you, Grace.”
She turned back to him with a blush. “Wow.”
It amazed Ben that she hadn’t noticed her effect on the customers, that she had no real idea of her appeal. “Noah won’t be happy about you working here.”
In typical Grace fashion, she drew herself up. “Well, whyever not? This is a great place.”
Great. Ben shook his head. “I’ve been robbed twice, Grace. In the evenings, when people drink more, fights sometimes break out. No one has ever been seriously hurt, but there’ve been some minor scrapes, some black eyes. The cops have been here five times in two years. Noah is the protective sort. He grumbles about me being here, so I can only imagine what he’ll have to say about me hiring you.”
As if that idea were inconceivable, Grace patted his chest and said, “Don’t worry. Noah and I don’t have that kind of relationship. He won’t bother himself about where I work, I promise.”
Her naïveté blew Ben away. What did Grace think, that Noah was just playing with her?
Come to think of it, was he?
Ben didn’t think so, but everything had happened so fast, he couldn’t be sure what his brother thought. The idea of anyone using Grace didn’t sit well with Ben. He’d have to have another chat with Noah, to let him in on Grace’s perception of their relationship. Hopefully, Noah would set her straight.
“What hours will I be working?” Grace asked, interrupting his musing.
“Unfortunately, it’ll vary and include some weekends.” Noah was going to kill him. “Let me take you on a rundown of things.”
Trying to block his brother’s potential reaction at having his new relationship derailed with weekend work, Ben escorted Grace to the kitchen where she turned in her orders. While the food was being prepared, she followed him to the quiet backroom with the pop and coffee machines, where she could take her breaks, and where the schedule was posted along with a time clock.
“I’ll have a time card for you tomorrow, so don’t forget to clock in and out. I’ll write in the hours you worked today. For the rest of this week, you’ll be replacing Rose, so go by her schedule. You can finish out her time today if you want.”
“That’d be great!”
Still bemused by her attitude, Ben chuc
kled. “Great, huh? All right. I post the new schedule on Thursdays, and the week starts on Mondays. Any problems, let me know right away.”
Grace pulled a pencil and order pad out of her pocket and jotted down her hours. To Ben’s amazement, she didn’t look at all taken aback by the later days, but he made a mental note to try to give her as many evenings and weekends off as possible.
“Got it.”
Folding his arms over his chest, Ben looked her over. She was full-figured, with a lot of curves. “Grace, what size do you wear?”
Grace’s head shot up and she blanched. “Excuse me?”
He cocked a brow at her startling reaction to a simple question. “I have to get you a uniform.”
Rather than answer, she bit her lip. For the first time since she’d arrived, she looked unsure of herself. Ben didn’t understand. He’d expected her to not like the uniforms, but he hadn’t expected her to look stricken over the prospect.
After a few seconds of heavy silence during which Grace fidgeted and didn’t meet his gaze, she asked, “Do you have any in stock?”
“Yeah.” Keeping his gaze on her, Ben tipped his head toward a storage closet. “The previous owner had just ordered in a bunch when I bought the place from him. They’re hanging in there.”
Visible relief washed over her features.
It didn’t make sense. She’d been so sure of herself, diving into every duty with gusto, as if she’d been waiting tables for years. Yet now she looked timid.
“Grace, I can get you a new one in a week.” Hell, he’d even let her lower the hem if she really wanted to. “There’s no reason for you to keep a worn, already used uniform.”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” She darted toward the closet.
Ben frowned. “Grace…”
She rummaged around a moment, continually peeking back at Ben, then turned with three neatly folded uniforms in her arms. “Um, mind if I take these home to try on? I’ll return any that don’t fit tomorrow.”