Read Online Hungry for You by Lynsay Sands - Free Book Online Page B

soothing. There was something about emptying your mind and simply letting it drift while your body worked … it did wonders for her stress level. Unfortunately, once the tension had left, other sensations had started to make their way to the surface … like hunger … and thirst. Sadly, food was the one thing she hadn’t thought to buy while on her shopping trip.
    Grimacing at her hunger pangs, Alex turned to run the roller through the tray, only to find she’d used up the last of the paint in it. Pausing, she glanced toward the ground and the paint can waiting there, and then back to the wall. She was no professional but thought she was doing a pretty good job so far. She’d gotten the primer up and was now working on the first coat of White Sand, with two walls and part of a third done. Despite the primer, it was going to take two coats to finish the walls properly, and she’d hoped to get at least the first coat done before going out in search of food.
    However, her stomach felt like it was taking an acidbath and, frankly, she was running low on energy. Her legs had actually started shaking a couple of times as she’d worked on this third wall. Shaky legs and ladders just didn’t seem like a good combination to her. It would be more sensible to take a break now and finish after she’d hit a fast-food joint or something.
    As a chef, Alex would never admit to anyone that she enjoyed anything as pedestrian as rubbery burgers with reconstituted onions and processed, half-wax cheese on them, but at times like this, cheeseburgers were a fast treat that would hit the spot.
    Smiling at the thought, Alex set the roller in the tray, picked it up in one hand, and carefully backed down off the ladder. She’d bought several rollers so didn’t bother washing this one. Instead, she left it to dry, closed the paint can, and then headed toward the back of the restaurant. After washing her hands, she ducked into her office to retrieve her purse and coat. A moment later, she was letting herself out the back door, and then nearly jumping out of her skin when something brushed her arm.
    Alex whirled to see what it was, shrieking when she saw the dark figure looming over her. Wielding her purse like a weapon, she instinctively began to thrash her attacker with it, slamming it over his head with one hand as she punched at his stomach, his arm, and anything else she could reach with her other.
    Fortunately, her earplugs got jerked from her ears with the action and she became aware that her “attacker” was shouting her name between efforts to blockher blows. Ending her assault, she stepped warily back, eyeing the dark figure. Her voice was shaky as she asked, “Who are you?”
    “Cale Valens,” he answered with a sigh, straightening from the slightly hunched position he’d taken when she started assaulting him.
    “Cale?” Eyes widening with disbelief, she asked, “My chef, Cale?”
    “Sort of,” he muttered.
    Alex was digging in her purse for her keys and silently berating herself for not turning on the outer lights and checking the small parking lot behind the restaurant before stepping out. She found her keys and pulled them out, then quickly flicked on the attached tiny flashlight to run over him. It was definitely Cale, her chef, she noted, and frowned at the way his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. A trick of the light, she told herself, and glanced around uncertainly. The parking lot was empty except for her car.
    “Where’s your car?” she asked.
    “Parked out front. I was originally at the front door, but couldn’t get your attention. When I saw you head for the back of the restaurant, I came around back, hoping you were coming out,” he explained quietly, and then urged her hand holding the flashlight away so it was no longer shining in his face. “Would you mind? That’s very bright.”
    “Sorry,” she muttered, shutting it off. Alex shifted from one foot to the other, her gaze sliding to her car as