hell yelled again.
I gritted my teeth and went to her table again. Another refill for an only half-gone drink. Annoying. Drink the whole glass or at least down to the last quarter and I'd be automatically filling it. Still half full, and I didn't think it needed my attention, but what did I know? I was just the hired help having to please the masses and their stupid requests.
As I returned to my spot, Wendy, the other waitress, strolled over to me and leaned in close.
“You have got to check out the hunk of man who just sat in my section,” she breathed quietly.
I glanced over to her side of the restaurant in surprise. I hadn't heard the door chime to announce a new arrival, so he must've come in while I was handling the needy woman.
My gaze landed on a man in the corner booth. I nearly jumped back when my eyes met his. He was staring right at me as if he'd been waiting for me to notice him. I swallowed around the hard knot that had formed in my throat from the cold, dead stare he gave me.
I knew that look. I’d seen it many times on the men that hung around Michele. It was the look of a killer.
His short brown hair was carelessly styled. The five o’clock shadow on his jaw accented the fullness of his bottom lip. His dark slashing eyebrows made his blue eyes stand out even from across the room. Wide, broad shoulders with a matching chest stretched the t-shirt he had on. Bulging biceps and thick, veiny forearms showed he worked out. He was big and imposing… and scary as hell.
Unconsciously, I took a step backward.
“He’s hot, right?” Wendy sighed next to me. “Mmm, I could die wrapped in those arms. I bet he’s hung like a horse, too. Look at how big he is everywhere else.”
“What?” I jumped, having forgotten she was even there. My mind was too busy thinking how long it would take me to make it to my car and whether there was anything I needed badly enough to stop by my place. Nope, nothing. Absolutely nothing in my rundown apartment was worth the time that would be better used to get the hell out of town.
“Allegra? Are you okay?” Wendy asked when she noticed I had taken half a dozen steps away from where we’d initially stood together.
“Um. Uh. Yeah,” I said, breaking eye contact with the mysterious man in the corner. “I am, uh, not feeling so, uh, good. My shift is over soon anyway. Can you cover for me?”
She looked skeptically at me for a long moment. I sighed.
“Look, the three tables I have are mostly done eating, so you won’t have much to do with them. You can keep the tips, too.” Hell, I would’ve paid her — if I could’ve afford to — in order to get out of there right then.
“Okay, but you owe me,” she finally agreed.
I nodded as I tried to discreetly nab my purse from under the counter. She could think I owed her all she wanted, but I doubted I’d ever be in town again, so she’d have a hell of a time collecting. As I walked briskly through the kitchen toward the back door of the restaurant, I slung my purse strap crosswise over my body. Once the back door was open, I broke into a run toward my grey piece of crap car in the back corner of the lot.
The chef, a.k.a. the manager, was taking a smoke break outside, but only watched me with a raised eyebrow as I ran past. I glanced over my shoulder to see if the stranger was following — he wasn’t — then slammed into something hard enough to force the air from my lungs.
“Woah, Allegra. Careful,” Sheriff Aaron said, clasping a hand on each of my shoulders to keep me from falling.
“Sorry about that, Sheriff.” I frowned and stepped back from his grasp.
The sheriff was a younger man, no more than thirty-five, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He couldn’t have been more than six foot, since I was five-foot-nine, and he was only slightly taller than me. While I’d tried to lay low and not make many friends since my
I gritted my teeth and went to her table again. Another refill for an only half-gone drink. Annoying. Drink the whole glass or at least down to the last quarter and I'd be automatically filling it. Still half full, and I didn't think it needed my attention, but what did I know? I was just the hired help having to please the masses and their stupid requests.
As I returned to my spot, Wendy, the other waitress, strolled over to me and leaned in close.
“You have got to check out the hunk of man who just sat in my section,” she breathed quietly.
I glanced over to her side of the restaurant in surprise. I hadn't heard the door chime to announce a new arrival, so he must've come in while I was handling the needy woman.
My gaze landed on a man in the corner booth. I nearly jumped back when my eyes met his. He was staring right at me as if he'd been waiting for me to notice him. I swallowed around the hard knot that had formed in my throat from the cold, dead stare he gave me.
I knew that look. I’d seen it many times on the men that hung around Michele. It was the look of a killer.
His short brown hair was carelessly styled. The five o’clock shadow on his jaw accented the fullness of his bottom lip. His dark slashing eyebrows made his blue eyes stand out even from across the room. Wide, broad shoulders with a matching chest stretched the t-shirt he had on. Bulging biceps and thick, veiny forearms showed he worked out. He was big and imposing… and scary as hell.
Unconsciously, I took a step backward.
“He’s hot, right?” Wendy sighed next to me. “Mmm, I could die wrapped in those arms. I bet he’s hung like a horse, too. Look at how big he is everywhere else.”
“What?” I jumped, having forgotten she was even there. My mind was too busy thinking how long it would take me to make it to my car and whether there was anything I needed badly enough to stop by my place. Nope, nothing. Absolutely nothing in my rundown apartment was worth the time that would be better used to get the hell out of town.
“Allegra? Are you okay?” Wendy asked when she noticed I had taken half a dozen steps away from where we’d initially stood together.
“Um. Uh. Yeah,” I said, breaking eye contact with the mysterious man in the corner. “I am, uh, not feeling so, uh, good. My shift is over soon anyway. Can you cover for me?”
She looked skeptically at me for a long moment. I sighed.
“Look, the three tables I have are mostly done eating, so you won’t have much to do with them. You can keep the tips, too.” Hell, I would’ve paid her — if I could’ve afford to — in order to get out of there right then.
“Okay, but you owe me,” she finally agreed.
I nodded as I tried to discreetly nab my purse from under the counter. She could think I owed her all she wanted, but I doubted I’d ever be in town again, so she’d have a hell of a time collecting. As I walked briskly through the kitchen toward the back door of the restaurant, I slung my purse strap crosswise over my body. Once the back door was open, I broke into a run toward my grey piece of crap car in the back corner of the lot.
The chef, a.k.a. the manager, was taking a smoke break outside, but only watched me with a raised eyebrow as I ran past. I glanced over my shoulder to see if the stranger was following — he wasn’t — then slammed into something hard enough to force the air from my lungs.
“Woah, Allegra. Careful,” Sheriff Aaron said, clasping a hand on each of my shoulders to keep me from falling.
“Sorry about that, Sheriff.” I frowned and stepped back from his grasp.
The sheriff was a younger man, no more than thirty-five, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He couldn’t have been more than six foot, since I was five-foot-nine, and he was only slightly taller than me. While I’d tried to lay low and not make many friends since my
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