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Worth the Wait

Page 13

by Lori Foster


  “Yes.” Grinning, Violet snatched up the paper, grabbed Hogan’s hand and dragged him down the hall.

  “Uh...where are we going?”

  “My office.”

  “Seriously, honey, I only have five minutes.”

  Violet choked. Oh, what she’d give for ten more minutes. “I want privacy enough to tell you something, that’s all.”

  “Okay, but people are watching us go.”

  She glanced back, and sure enough, half the customers and all the employees made note of them holding hands. Violet rolled her eyes. “Let them wonder. It’ll keep ’em sharp.”

  “Hold up.” He yelled back to the cook, “Put together a loaded burger for me, will you? I’ll be back in one minute.”

  Jerry, the cook, gave an absent wave while juggling three things on his griddle.

  “One minute, huh? Well, that ought to kill any thoughts of us doing anything.”

  Near her ear, Hogan said, “In one minute, I could be kissing you with my hand inside your shirt, or maybe in your shorts—”

  “Don’t!” She dragged him into the office and closed the door. “I finally got my brain on something else, so don’t get me thinking about that again.”

  He gave her a long, heated look. “So you’ve been thinking about it?” His gaze moved over her. “About me?”

  He honestly had to ask? “That’s rhetorical, right? After what we did? How easy it was for you? Yes, I’ve thought about it, and you, a lot.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad I made an impression.”

  Oh, he’d made an impression all right.

  “Come to any conclusions?”

  Definitely. But saying so right now might scare him off. Her personal interest in him as a man wasn’t the only factor to consider.

  She also needed his expertise with ribs and restaurant planning. She wanted Hogan in her bed—and she wanted him to work full-time for her.

  Frowning at him and her own mercenary thoughts, Violet put some distance between them, then snapped open the Trickle. “Listen to this.” She read aloud.

  Dear Advice Anonymous,

  What’s the best way to get the attention of a sexy, sandy-haired, green-eyed alpha without seeming too forward? Between his work in law enforcement and performing with the band, he almost never dates. I can’t get him to look at me twice, so I need a subtle way to get his attention. Advice?

  Signed, “Hungry for a Hottie.”

  She looked up to see that Hogan was as astounded as her. Satisfied with his reaction, she said, “That’s Nathan, right? I mean, it has to be.”

  “Sounds like him. Who else around here is in law enforcement and in the band?”

  “And a hottie.”

  Hogan’s eyes narrowed.

  “No one that I know of.” She grinned, knowing she’d tweaked him. “Want to hear the reply?”

  “Yeah.” Hogan came to stand next to her, again reading over her shoulder. “I do.”

  Already his body heat touched her, and she could smell his sun-warmed skin and hair. Violet cleared her throat.

  Dear Hungry,

  Perhaps the gentleman doesn’t deserve your attention. From what you’ve said, he’s probably arrogant and cocky, well aware of his hero status to the community and his own good looks. I suggest you try ignoring him. Men like him feed off attention and if you deny it, he’ll begin to seek it out.

  Also, it’s possible he’s not into women.

  My best,

  Advice Anonymous.

  Violet glanced up at Hogan. His mouth was right there, so close. She thought of his mouth, what he’d done to her, what else she’d like him to do—

  “Holy shit.” Oblivious to her sexual musings, Hogan laughed but quickly cut it short, almost in sympathy for a friend. As he stepped back, he said, “Nathan’s going to lose it.”

  Half her brain remained on the idea of kissing him, but the other half caught his statement. “Who do you think the woman is?”

  “The gossip columnist?”

  She waved a hand. “No, the one who’s after Nathan.”

  Hogan shrugged, his expression thoughtful. “He’s out there right now with that new neighbor of his. She’d seemed pretty resistant the first time I met her, but who knows with women? Looks like she’s being friendly enough with him now, so maybe she already got her wish.”

  “I saw them sitting off alone.”

  “Yeah. She got here before him and took the farthest table away. When he got here a few minutes after her, Nathan barely said hello, he was in such a hurry to join her.” Hogan gave an evil grin and snatched the paper from her. “I think I’ll go share this with him. See what he says.”

  So much for sympathy. “Wait.” Violet grinned. “I’m coming with you.”

  On his way out, Hogan grabbed his hamburger and some chips, and Violet got him an iced tea.

  “Before I forget,” he said, “I talked to Colt about the ideas you had.”

  Violet frowned at his back. “I was going to do that.” She’d looked forward to it, damn it. New ideas excited her, and like a kid with a new present, she wanted to untie the ribbon and pull back the paper herself.

  “He’s my son.”

  He had a point, but still... “You’re trying to take over.”

  Hogan paused, and Violet almost ran into him. He turned to face her.

  She waited for him to apologize.

  Instead, he said, “When we close up tonight, how about you show me the upstairs?”

  Pasting on a sassy smile, she asked, “Is that a euphemism for something?”

  His white teeth flashed at her. “You really are focused on sex today, aren’t you?”

  Yes, damn him.

  He actually laughed. “I meant that I wanted to see the upper floor.”

  Disgruntled, Violet shrugged. “There’s nothing much up there.”

  “I’d like to see for myself. Colt thinks it might work for parties.”

  Parties? Hmm... “It’s just storage.”

  “Storage can become usable space.” He started on his way again.

  Definitely trying to take over, Violet thought with a frown. She’d show him the upper floor, no problem, and maybe while she had him alone, she could engage him in an encore. A tug of warmth low in her belly made her breathing quicken.

  Keeping her voice low, Violet asked him, “Have you thought about me?”

  “I’m alive, aren’t I?”

  That sultry reply came with no hesitation and made her feel better. “Did you...you know. Take care of yourself?”

  Hogan laughed again, but didn’t reply as they stepped through the prep area and then outside.

  A wave of heat slapped her in the face. “This humidity is killer.” And of course, his grills were directly in the sun, not a bit of shade reaching far enough to offer any relief. A canopy of some kind would have to be a priority. Guilt made her frown. “I’m sorry, Hogan.”

  “For prying?” He smiled as he asked it, then whispered, “I don’t mind, especially since I told you what I’d do.”

  So he had... Violet’s knees weakened, and she had to shake her head. “No,” she said, her voice thin and a little too breathy. “I meant for keeping you out here broiling in this awful heat.” It was early evening, but probably still hovered near ninety. The sun stayed high in the sky, a bright yellow ball in a pure blue, cloudless sky.

  She looked away from Hogan’s piercing gaze to the surrounding seating. Not more than four feet away, tall trees cast long shadows. “Feels like it’s gotten hotter as the day went on, instead of cooling.” At least the various picnic tables were nestled under long-branched trees, the harsh sunlight dappled by the leaves. Those that weren’t under trees had broad umbrellas. She saw that despite the swelterin
g day, every seat was taken. She needed more.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Hogan said. “It’s just the angle of the sun as it sets that makes it seem so bad.” He paused to check on the grills, spoke briefly with Colt and then continued on.

  As Violet passed Colt, she said near his ear, “Think you could do this? I mean, if I got your dad to share the recipe?”

  “I already know it.” Colt chuckled at her shock. “And yeah, I can handle it. But Dad would have to agree.”

  Just then, “Dad” snagged her arm and dragged her along with him. Taken by surprise, Violet almost tripped over a tree root. “Hey.”

  He righted her, helped her past a picnic table filled with a rowdy family that included four kids, then said, “Don’t try bribing my son.”

  “Bribing?” Violet imbued as much umbrage into her tone as she could, but damn, she had hoped to bribe him. “I only asked him if he knew—”

  “And then you were going to work on him.” Hogan gave her a look. “Colt puts in enough hours as it is. I don’t want him losing even more free time.”

  “We could just shift the hours he has. Shoot, he could possibly work less hours if he filled in for you sometimes instead of all the other stuff he does.”

  Hogan took a big bite of his burger, chewed while looking at her, then swallowed. “I’ll think about it.”

  He acted so autocratic, Violet wanted to trip him, but they were already too near to where Nathan and the woman sat opposite each other at a picnic table.

  The area was very green, the grass thick and soft. Leaves shifted overhead, and a butterfly played around the end of the table. The scents of food and summer hung in the air.

  And it was all hers. Sometimes, pride made her want to burst.

  “I’m still the boss,” Violet reminded Hogan, low enough that no one else would hear, but the way Nathan grinned at her as he stood, she wasn’t sure.

  As if seeking patience, Hogan looked up at the sky for a count of three before giving his attention to his friend. A devilish smile split his face. “Nathan, how’s it going?”

  Nathan eyed him. “What are you up to?”

  When Hogan just stood there, eating his hamburger and trying to look innocent, Violet stepped forward. “Nathan, introduce me to your friend.” She put on her most engaging smile.

  “Sure.” Nathan gestured between them. “Brooklin, this is Violet Shaw, the owner and the brains behind the excellent food and service. Violet, my new neighbor, Brooklin Sweet.”

  The very pretty woman seemed hesitant. Then she returned Violet’s smile and offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Violet. Nathan isn’t exaggerating about the food, or the service. I can see why your diner is so popular.”

  “Thank you.” Oh, Violet thought, I like her. “This is Hogan Guthrie, my barbecue master. Have you tried his ribs yet?”

  “I need that on a shirt,” Hogan said. “Barbecue Master. It has a nice ring to it.”

  Nathan rolled his eyes.

  “We met the other day,” Brooklin said, nodding to him.

  “I’m glad you remember.” Hogan tapped the rolled-up paper against his thigh. To Violet, he said, “She’s a salad eater, but I won’t hold that against her. Nathan ate enough ribs for the two of them.”

  “I tried a bite of his,” Brooklin said, “and it really was delicious.”

  Pleased with that praise, Hogan said, “Thank you.”

  “She’s a health nut or something,” Nathan teased. “Jogs every day and eats a lot of rabbit food.”

  “How do you know she jogs?” Violet asked.

  “Because I jog with her.” He bobbed his eyebrows.

  “I used to be a nurse,” Brooklin said, moving past Nathan’s innuendos very quickly. “Being healthy has become a habit.”

  Pretending shock, a hand to his heart, Nathan sagged against the table. “You just offered that up. They didn’t even have to pry it out of you.”

  She ignored him to talk to Violet. “How did the diner get its name? Screwy Louie’s is pretty different. Fun and unique, but different for sure.”

  Violet took the seat opposite her, nudging Nathan out of the way. “My great-uncle had a hand in raising me. Uncle Bibb—a nickname for Billy—named the diner after his longtime military friend, Louie, because he said Louie was the one who inspired him. Uncle Bibb loved him like a brother. I inherited the diner when my uncle passed away.”

  Hogan stared at her. “You never told me any of that.”

  Violet ignored him. “For the longest time, I didn’t want to change anything, you know? There are so many nice memories wrapped up in this place. Changing anything felt like losing a part of Uncle Bibb.”

  Hogan sat down beside her, consternation on his face, his food almost forgotten.

  “But it’s time to update,” she said, hoping to put Hogan at ease. “More than anything, Uncle Bibb wanted the place to thrive and that requires change.” She shoulder-bumped Hogan. “Even the record keeping was ancient. But now that my uncle’s bookkeeper isn’t with me anymore, Hogan has everything modernized. It’s been an amazing switch.”

  Brooklin smiled at Hogan. “A man of many talents.”

  “That’s exactly what I told him!”

  Hogan leaned close to her ear. “That could go on the shirt, too.”

  Violet stole one of his chips, saying, “You better eat up while you can. Colt can only man the grills so long.”

  Hogan frowned and dug in.

  With the two of them now taking up Nathan’s seat, he moved to sit next to Brooklin instead of across from her.

  Violet knew Nathan well, and she saw that he was more than casually interested. The poor man could barely take his gaze off Brooklin. Violet could see why. Brooklin had beautiful hair; a slim, toned body; and a very pretty face with a full mouth, narrow nose and the most unusual eyes she’d ever seen. “You said you used to be a nurse. What is it you do now?”

  “Total career change, opposite side of the spectrum.” Brooklin half laughed. “I make custom jewelry.”

  “Wow, really?” Violet said.

  Nathan’s brows went up. Then naturally he looked at her hands and throat.

  She laughed. “Everyone expects me to wear my own stuff, but I only do when dressing up. Like Nathan said, I run every morning, and after that I work at home. I changed one of my bedrooms into a studio and I keep all my supplies there, along with a big desk and comfortable chair. Seems silly to put on nice jewelry for that, you know? But I have a website if you’re curious.”

  “I am, yes.”

  Brooklin dug a business card from her purse.

  Nathan stared as she handed it over and Violet knew before a day passed, he’d ask her for the website url. Hiding her amusement, she asked, “What type of stuff do you make?”

  “Mostly I like working with sunstone and amber, tourmaline and raw gemstones, like citrine, garnet and amethyst. Customers can have their pick of the metal and the stone, and then I create it either with or without their suggestions.”

  Nathan watched her, riveted by her every word, but Hogan only finished eating, the paper beside him.

  “You sell online?” Violet asked.

  “I do. But some of my pieces are also sold through various kitschy shops, like that little boutique near here.”

  Violet gasped. “I love that boutique! They’re having a sale soon. Will your jewelry be included?”

  Brooklin nodded. “I agreed to twenty percent off.”

  “I don’t freaking believe this,” Nathan grumbled. “How many times have I tried to get a single bit of info out of you, and you acted like I was plowing through your privacy.”

  “You,” she said, “had different motives.”

  He threw up his hands. “How do you know Violet’s motives aren’t th
e same?” Soon as he said it, he shook his head. “Never mind.”

  Violet laughed. Nathan clearly wanted something altogether different than mere friendship.

  Now that he’d finished eating, Hogan started grinning again. “Read the Trickle lately, Nathan?”

  Distracted, Nathan glanced at him and snorted. “No.” He realized Hogan had the paper with him, and he saw the page he’d opened it to. “God help me. Are you into that stupid advice column now, too?”

  “Not usually, no. But Violet pointed out that the person mentioned last week sounded familiar.”

  Without much interest, still scowling at Brooklin, he said, “Yeah? Who is it?”

  Hogan spun the paper around in front of him. “Maybe you should read it.”

  Suspicious now, Nathan put a forearm on the table and leaned forward to read.

  Because Violet could barely take her attention off Brooklin’s very light brown eyes, she noticed the way the other woman quickly looked away, along with her small smile. So maybe she was the “hooked on a hottie” local.

  Nathan didn’t give Hogan the reaction he wanted. Instead he laughed.

  Nonplussed, Hogan asked, “You think it’s funny?”

  “You don’t?”

  “You read all of it, right?”

  “Yeah.” Nathan turned to Brooklin. “For the record, I’m definitely into women.”

  “Good to know,” she murmured.

  Fascinated with their byplay, Violet asked, “Any idea who it might be?”

  “Probably a joke. You both know Stan is gay.” Again, he turned to Brooklin. “He’s the drummer for the band. He hit on me when I first got to town. I explained I was straight, so he asked me to join the band instead. He’s a good guy, but a real comedian. Smart, too. I wouldn’t put it past him to be the voice behind the ‘Advice Anonymous.’”

  “The person admiring you,” Violet pointed out, “isn’t Stan, though, right? So who is?”

  “No idea.” Nathan stretched, not in the least concerned.

  “Anyone been flirting with you?” Hogan asked.

 

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