by C. Morgan
He shrugged. “I don’t think I eat a lot of lobster but probably more than some.”
“Do you eat what you catch?”
“Not all of it. I’d never make any money if I did that. Do you eat all the food you make?”
He was kind of a cranky man. “No.”
“Why a restaurant?” he asked. “Do you know how many restaurants have been in this building alone?”
“I’ve heard there have been a few.”
“Are you a chef?”
I smiled. “No.”
“Then why a restaurant?”
“I like food,” I said with a laugh. “I do like to cook but I’m more of the kind of person that likes to cook for family, not paying customers.”
“So why a restaurant?” he asked again. “Can’t you just buy food?”
“I can. The restaurant idea is about creating an environment for families to spend time together. I feel like sitting down to a good plate of food that you didn’t have to make yourself and getting to hang out with your family or friends is a nice way to end a day. As a society, our good memories tend to involve food. We celebrate with food. I want people to come here, sit down, and get to spend quality time with the important people in their lives.”
He was intently staring at me. I had no idea what he was thinking. “That makes sense.”
“Thank you,” I said with relief.
“Does your family support you?” he asked.
“Financially?”
“In general.”
“The restaurant is mine. I’m doing the work. They support me doing something I’ve always wanted to do. I owe my dad all the credit for the launch going so well. He used his position to market the opening. I didn’t know he was going to do it. He said he wanted to help in his own way.”
He nodded. “That’s a good thing.”
“It is.”
“Are you close with your parents?”
I smiled. I always smiled when I thought about my family. “Yes. Are you close with your family?”
“No.”
I waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, I decided it was a sensitive subject and I wouldn’t push. “Do you live in town?”
I slid the cakes into the oven and turned to face him. “I do. Small house. Nothing fancy. You?”
I shouldn’t have opened myself up to that question. I wasn’t embarrassed about my family, but I had a feeling he would not appreciate who I was. Rather, who my father was. “I’m going to be soon.”
“Where do you live?”
I wasn’t going to lie. “I am staying in Falmouth with my parents. I just got an apartment here in the city.”
“Where?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“Not far from here, just across the street from Eastern Promenade Park.”
He nodded as if he approved. “Nice area.”
“You?”
“What about me?”
I couldn’t tell if he was purposely being difficult or if he was really that bad of a conversationalist. “Are you in the city? Outside?”
“I’m in the city. It’s an old house. Old neighborhood. Nothing fancy.”
I got the impression he didn’t much care for talking. Or maybe it was talking to me. I decided I had picked the man’s brain enough. He wasn’t comfortable and that defeated the purpose of food in my opinion. I wanted him to enjoy my lobster cakes, and if I made him miserable, he wouldn’t.
“I am really sorry about the way things happened with Nick,” I said. “That wasn’t cool, and it was kind of embarrassing.”
“I told you, you don’t have to apologize.”
“I feel like I do.”
“Who is he? Really.”
“He is just a guy I went on one date with. One. And it didn’t go well. He just doesn’t seem to understand I’m not interested.”
“Why?”
“Why doesn’t he understand?” I questioned.
“Yes. Did you tell him?”
“Not in so many words, but I thought I made it clear. I haven’t returned his calls.”
“Why was he here?” he asked. I got the feeling I was being interrogated.
Fulton was a possessive man. It fit with what I knew about him. He was all alpha. “My dad knows him. He told him about the opening.”
His eyes narrowed. “I see. So Nick is someone important.”
“He’s a nobody in my life,” I insisted.
“He’s a nobody in general,” he replied.
I didn’t want to smile, but it just happened. I felt like a parent trying to scold a child, but it was so cute and adorable I had to smile. “You know, getting violent is really never the answer.”
“It’s a solution. An effective one at that.”
“Nick is harmless.”
“I don’t know Nick, but he’s an asshole, and you need to stay away from him.”
I pulled on the hot pad and was ready to pull out the cakes from the oven when I stopped. I slowly turned and looked up at him. “Excuse me?”
“He’s an asshole. You don’t need to be around him. That fucker doesn’t respect you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because of the way he acted. He was rude and condescending. He acted like you should be thrilled to see him, and when you didn’t jump up and kiss his ass, he didn’t like it. I saw it.”
That was the most he had said, which told me he was pretty damn serious about his opinion of Nick. “Thanks for your opinion, and I appreciate you defending me, but it’s fine.”
He shrugged. “It will be.”
The man’s confidence baffled me. I had never met anyone who was so sure of himself. I shook it off and grabbed the cookie sheet from the oven. I put it down and placed a couple of cakes on a plate before handing it to him. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
I grabbed one for myself, blowing on it before taking a bite. I was watching him, wanting to see his reaction to my food.
He took a bite and then another, nodding. “Good.”
“Thank you,” I said with relief. It was crazy that I wanted his approval.
He finished eating both of the cakes before wiping his hands on a napkin. “You are a good cook.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“Maybe we can hang out some time,” he said. “You wouldn’t need to cook for me, but we could share a meal and do whatever it is you said you like about sitting down and eating with people.”
Red flags were going off. There was nothing wrong with him, but he put me on edge. Not in a bad way, but in a way I wasn’t sure how to handle. “I would really like to but I’m going to be very busy with this place for a while. Things are happening fast, and I want to make sure we are set up for success.”
“That’s cool,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Fulton, I would like to hang out soon. Can I have a raincheck?”
“We’ll see.”
He was walking to the door. I found myself practically chasing after him. “I’ll call you when I need another order.”
“Do that.”
I wanted to tell him to stay, but at the same time, I wanted to tell him to go. I was so confused. I had never had such a strong reaction to anyone. He both intrigued me and scared me off at the same time. “Stop by if you have the time,” I said as he was walking to his truck.
“We’ll see,” he said again.
He got in his truck and drove away.
Dammit. What the hell was wrong with me? I just passed up the chance to go out with an incredible guy, all because he told me to stay away from Nick.
He was being honest. I could respect that. He was looking out for me. No man, besides my father, had ever done that for me. I was strong and independent, I told myself. I didn’t need a man.
But damn, it sure would be nice to have a man like that in my corner.
Chapter 11
Fulton
I heard the rain pelting against my bedroom w
indow and knew it wasn’t good. I had to look for myself. I got up. The sun was blotted out by the dark storm clouds. I didn’t have to look at the clock to know it was four. I woke up at four every day.
I walked into the kitchen, and using the one piece of technology I had come to love a great deal, I asked Alexa for the weather report.
Granted, she was only right about half the time, but I needed some insight. She read me my usual report, including any storm warnings. It was going to be a very wet, windy day. I wasn’t interested in swimming with the fishes. I walked outside just to get a really good look at the situation and quickly rushed back in.
“Shit,” I muttered. I walked back into my room and grabbed my phone. I sent Stanley a quick text to let him know he could sleep in. Yes, counterproductive, but hopefully, he would see the message and go back to sleep.
I wasn’t going to go back to sleep. I never could. I started my coffee and cleaned up the dishes from last night. I wasn’t going to be spending my day on my boat or working on my boat. It was a great time to stay home and work on the laundry list of things I needed to do.
The coffee machine stopped. I poured myself a cup and sat down at my scarred dining table with mismatched chairs that I had picked up at a yard sale. I looked around the dining room that opened into the living room. I didn’t want to.
I knew why. Any other day I got a day off, I would work on the house and love doing it. I didn’t want to today. I wanted to lounge around and think about Amara. I wanted to fantasize about what it would be like to bury myself inside her. I wanted to think about what it would feel like to have her body wet and squeezing my cock.
My erection sprang to life. A cold shower was in order. I sipped the coffee, not quite ready to get up. My phone rang. There was only one person on the planet that would call me at four in the morning.
“Hello, Stanley,” I answered.
“What’s up?”
“I texted you.”
“I know. We’re not going out?”
“Have you looked outside?” I asked.
I could hear movement and knew he was getting out of bed. “Oh shit,” he said.
“Exactly. Stay home. Get some sleep. We’ll go out tomorrow.”
“All right,” he said. “I’m going back to bed.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I headed for the shower. When I stepped out, I decided I was tired. It had been a long few weeks. I dried off and crawled into bed naked as the day I was born. I fell asleep with thoughts of Amara on my mind. I dreamt of her breasts. My mouth on her breast and my fingers inside her. Fuck, I had it bad.
When I woke up the second time, my dick ached. The wet dreams did nothing to actually satisfy me. I got out of bed and dressed. I puttered around the house, listening to the rain slam against the windows. I kept myself occupied until late afternoon. I was hungry. I knew a place where I could get some really good lobster cakes.
I changed clothes, hating that I was actually trying to impress her. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. My fallback was I was hungry. I was.
I drove to the restaurant, happy to see it wasn’t as packed as that first night. When I walked inside, I scanned the area. I didn’t see her. Maybe she took the day off. I wasn’t really interested in eating if she wasn’t there. I could save myself some money and hit the Taco Bell drive thru and be just as satisfied.
A young woman saw me and quickly rushed over. “Hi,” she said with a smile. “Just one or will someone be joining you?”
That was yet to be determined. “One, please,” I answered.
She grabbed a menu and led me to a table that could have seated four. There was only one other couple in the restaurant. I hoped that wasn’t a sign that her success had been a flash in the pan and now it was over. I wanted her to be successful. Hell, I needed her to be successful. I needed the business just as much as she did. Technically, not true. She would still be eating fine if her restaurant sank. I might not be.
I was scanning the menu when I sensed her. My eyes popped up and there she was. She was talking with the young lady. They both turned and looked my way. Amara’s face lit up which was a huge relief for me. I wanted to know she was happy to see me.
She was smiling as she walked toward me. “Hi,” she greeted.
“Hi.”
She sat down. “I guess today is not a great day for being out on the water.”
I looked out the window, shaking my head. “Not if I want to stay above the water.”
Her soft laughter washed over me. “Good point. Are you here to eat or here to see me?”
I looked her straight in the eyes. “Both.”
She licked her lips. I got to her. “Is this about business?”
I slowly shook my head, holding her gaze. “No.”
She let out a breath. “Thank goodness. I thought you were going to tell me you were doubling your prices or something.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because that’s the way it goes. I know you charge less than the other places. You have to make a living too.”
“I do,” I agreed. “I’m fine.”
“Okay, great. I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do.”
She waved a hand around the restaurant. “We had a few really good days but look around you. It’s empty.”
“The weather is pretty shitty,” I reminded her. “Tourists are hunkering down.”
“Yes, but if this is a precursor of what winter holds, I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous. You do your best. You keep good staff and you serve great food and the locals will keep you afloat.”
She smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Thank you. I get nervous.”
“It’s early in the day,” I said. “People might be waiting for the worst of the storm to pass before they venture out for dinner.”
“Again, very good point. Are you sure you aren’t the business major here?”
I smirked. “Sometimes, you don’t need a fancy education to know how to make money.”
“Very true.”
“That’s your degree?” I asked. “Business?”
“Yes.”
“Did you go to cooking school?” I questioned.
She shrugged. “I did a few classes. I am not that technical. I like to cook for fun. It makes me happy to cook, and I like to make the people in my life happy with my food, but I knew it wasn’t going to be the thing that supported me.”
“Makes sense,” I said. It didn’t. If she was as wealthy as Stanley said she was, why was she busting her ass in a restaurant? I wondered if he got the wrong family name. It wouldn’t be the first time he was wrong about something.
“What do you do when you aren’t fishing?” she asked.
It suddenly felt like a first date, going through the whole let’s get to know each other phase. I didn’t do that. I didn’t open up and hand out my life story to anyone. They either knew me or they didn’t.
“Eat,” I answered.
She grinned. “You really are a great conversationalist. An open book.”
“Sorry,” I said, shrugging a shoulder. “I find it to be a waste of time to talk a lot.”
“Why is it a waste of time?”
“What’s the point?”
“Uh, I don’t know. That’s what humans do. We talk about what we like and don’t like. We talk about what we want out of life and we talk about experiences we’ve had. It’s how we decide who we are going to allow into our social circles.”
I shrugged. “I keep a really small social circle.”
“Gee, I’m shocked.”
It was my turn to smile. She wasn’t put off by my standoffish nature. “I think the whole talking thing is overrated. It gives people a lot of information about you and you just never know how that might come back and bite you in the ass.”
“Ouch.” She winced. “Sounds like you’ve been burned?”
; “You haven’t?”
“I suppose I have a time or two but that doesn’t make me not trust every person. That’s why we talk. We feel out a person and see if they are worthy of being in our social circle.”
“Are you feeling me out, Amara?”
Her eyes held mine. “I am. Does that bother you?”
“Nope. Only if I get to feel you out.”
Her eyes smiled at me. “Have you ordered yet?”
“No, I just sat down. I don’t want to complain, but the service here isn’t all that great.”
She laughed. “Don’t eat. I’m going to be leaving soon. Come to my place and I will cook you dinner. Then, we can feel each other out a little more and see if either of us is worthy of being in each other’s social circles.”
I didn’t have a fancy college degree, but I was smart enough to recognize an invitation for a lot more than dinner. She was flirting and teasing, and I was all for it. “Will it be something good?”
“Absolutely. I aim to please.”
“Me too.”
I didn’t miss the little shiver. She was playing with fire. She knew it. This was good girl gone bad. At least, she was hoping to be bad. I had no problem being the bad boy. “Give me two hours?” she asked, her voice soft.
I raised an eyebrow. “Two hours?” I wasn’t sure I could wait that long for my dinner.
“I promise it will be worth your wait.”
“Address,” I barked the word. I didn’t mean to be harsh, but my balls ached with need for her.
She quickly told me. I didn’t need to write it down. I wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon.
“I should get back,” she said. “I’ll see you later?”
“I’ll be there. Should I bring anything?”
Her eyes flashed with heat. “Just yourself.”
I should have gotten up. I didn’t. I was going to need a minute to quiet the erection that had sprung to life. “Don’t stand me up,” I warned.
“I wouldn’t think of it.”
She got up, obviously waiting for me. I stood and walked to the door.
“Two hours,” I said and gave her one last look before I walked out. The woman was playing with fire. I was going to give her what she wanted. I walked to my truck, and instead of going straight home, I went to the liquor store. I was guessing someone like her drank wine. It wasn’t really my thing, but I wasn’t going to show up emptyhanded. I talked to the clerk and was asked a bunch of questions I didn’t have the answers to. I walked out with a bottle of Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey and a bottle of some midrange white wine.