Just One Taste(3)

Not at all. He hadn’t even thought about fighting it. When he’d seen her, gotten close to her, he’d known she was the one. “I’m not a stupid man. I’ve seen some bad shit. I know a good thing when it comes along and I’ve learned that good things are worth fighting for.”

And tonight, he started the real fight of his life.



* * * *



“What is up with Eric? He’s in a weird mood tonight.” Deena locked her purse up and turned to Tiffany, hoping and praying that her friend couldn’t tell that she felt all flushed and anxious because merely being in the same room with that man was enough to get her hormones flowing. Yes, being near the man did that to her and then he’d gone and called her sweetheart in that deep as night voice of his. She’d damn near had an orgasm right there.

Could the sound of a man’s voice cause her womb to spasm? It seemed to.

Tiffany looked in the mirror of the employee lounge and smoothed down her hair. Her hands had small flecks of paint still on them, as though she’d gotten up from her easel to come to work, which she very likely had done. She was an artist and she painted every chance she got. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Eric is a tiny bit protective.”

She leaned against the locker and tried not to think about how hot he’d looked. Or how he’d made her feel when he’d called her sweetheart. “I suppose, though he should stick to the kitchen. He doesn’t understand what goes on in the front of house. He should keep his nose out of it.”

His gorgeous, masculine nose that went so well with his face and his ridiculously large body.

She had to remind herself of all the reasons she wasn’t getting involved with him. A—She wasn’t getting involved with anyone. She was so over involvement. B—He was too much. Too gorgeous. Too masculine. Too sexy. She couldn’t keep Eddie around. There was no way she would be able to satisfy a man like Eric Vail. C—She didn’t play where she worked.

She pretty much didn’t play at all, but now that she was going to, it wouldn’t be with a man she had to work with. Especially not the sous chef. If it came down to a choice, there was zero question who would win. Servers were easy to find. Eric’s brisket was not.

Tiffany’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t say that around the man if I were you. You know you’re going to have to watch that if you’re going to survive the training program.”

A little thrill went through her. It all started tonight. “Watch what? And I think I can handle the training program. I’m looking forward to it.”

She’d been counting the days since she’d been accepted. When Grace Taggart had explained that Sanctum was taking new trainees and they would allow Top employees to train in exchange for later work at the club, she’d jumped at the chance. Sanctum was the single most exclusive club in Texas. It wasn’t something she could ever afford and now all she had to do was wait tables once a week and she got a membership? Count her in.

Maybe, just maybe, she could find an outlet, have some fun. Maybe she could find a lover. Oh, not a lover as in she would love him. She was totally done with that. But someone she could try sex with. Put her toe back in that deep, scary pond she’d nearly drowned in.

“The first time you turn that mouth on your training Dom, you’re going to get a real not erotic spanking,” Tiffany said with a shake of her head.

Tiffany was going in with her. She was so happy to not do this alone. She gave her friend a saucy grin. “You are absolutely as untrained as me so you don’t know.”

Tiffany chuckled. “Yes, well I’ve read way more romance novels than you have. In Amber Rose’s books the Doms always get spanky when the subs talk smack. And from what I’ve heard, those Doms are based on the Sanctum Doms, so you should watch out.” She sobered a bit. “And you can’t talk that way around any of them. Not when it comes to work. It won’t matter that Chef has nothing to do with the training program. It will get back to him that you’re the brat of the class, and how is that going to make you feel?”

She hadn’t even thought about that, but it didn’t matter. “I’m going to behave perfectly. I’m not going into this on a whim. I want to explore and find myself, and this is a safe way to do it. I’m only being mouthy because Eric is going to cost me money.”

“Who’s being mouthy about what?” Ally strode through the door, ready for work. She had a smile on her lips and damn it, but the girl glowed a bit. There was no question what put the sunny expression on that girl’s face.

Sex. Sex with a superhot ex-soldier who adored her. Ally was married to Macon Miles, the pastry chef who apparently could do way more for a girl than ice a cupcake.

Tiffany pointed Deena’s way. “That one about you know who.”

Ally opened her locker and slid her bag inside. “What did Eric do? Did he finally ask her out for real?”

“He’s never asked me out and that’s a good thing because I would be forced to turn him down.” For all of her alphabetical reasons.

But mostly because he scared the holy hell out of her.

“He’s totally asked you out,” Tiffany replied. “He’s just sneaky about it.”

She shook her head because she wasn’t sure what she would do with an Eric who was actively pursuing her. And she couldn’t remember a single time he’d asked out. “No. He’s never wanted to date me.”

Ally shook her head. “That’s so sad. I thought I was unaware. You take the cake, D.”

What were they talking about? “I’m rarely alone with the man and honestly he doesn’t pay that much attention to me.”

The one time she’d been alone with him, she’d nearly fallen all over herself trying to get ready because he’d shown up twenty minutes early to pick her up for work. She’d been expecting Tiffany, but she’d opened the door and her tongue had nearly rolled out of her mouth because he’d stood there looking so lickable it hurt.

She’d rushed to get ready because the last thing she wanted was for Eric to truly understand how pitifully she lived. He would see her threadbare furniture and how crappy her décor was. He would likely wonder what the hell she did with her money, and she wasn’t about to admit she was still paying off debt from her first marriage.

Luckily, Eric Vail was practically Captain America. He was all moral and upstanding and would never stoop to spy on a fellow employee so she’d been safe. When she’d rushed out of her bedroom, he’d been standing by the door. He probably hadn’t moved the whole time.

He wasn’t a bad boy and she was going out to find herself one. A bad boy couldn’t break her heart. A bad boy might be able to make her feel like a woman. Even if it was only for an hour or two. That was all she needed from a man, all she would accept.

“You know all those times he’s asked if you have anything to do this weekend and do you want to hang out at his place? Or hey, a bunch of the gang’s going to see a movie. Why don’t you come?”

“He’s only being nice.” He was a sincerely nice man. He cared about his coworkers. He watched out for them. Sometimes he beat the shit out of people. He thought she hadn’t known what he was doing to the dirtbag who’d tried to roofie her drink. He’d even told her that he was only holding the guy until the police came, but she wasn’t an idiot. That dude had not gotten a black eye by himself.

But he would have done that for anyone. Right?

Ally laughed. “He’s not being nice. Don’t get me wrong, I like Eric, but I don’t know that I would call the man nice. It’s his way of getting close to you. You won’t let him in any other way. He actually asked you out once. He asked you if you were free on Monday about two weeks after you hired on.”

She remembered the day. She’d smiled and told him that she had classes on Mondays. “Oh, no. He was asking me because everyone was putting in an extra shift to get the new tables in.”

Ally groaned. “She’s extremely good at rewriting history. No. He asked if you wanted to grab something to eat. He didn’t work that day.”

Had she misinterpreted him so badly? Had Captain America asked her out? She shivered at the thought and about half of it was from fear. “No. I can’t go out with him.”

Tiffany shot her an incredulous look. “Why? He’s a stand-up guy.”

Because she wanted him. Because she dreamed about him at night. Because she no longer trusted her own instincts. “I’m not attracted to him.”

“So you stare at him because you’re not attracted to him?” Ally asked. “Because most of us like to look at the guys we’re attracted to.”

Why wouldn’t they let this be? “I don’t stare at him.” She did it all the time. She would catch a glimpse of the man and not be able to look away. She would walk into the kitchen and he would be stirring something or working over the hot stove and she would stand there for a minute before remembering what she’d come in to do. “Or if I do, it’s me zoning out and he happens to be standing there. I wouldn’t be surprised if he moved into my line of sight just so everyone will think I’m staring at him.”