Pompous ass. He didn't know a damn thing about her, but he sure was quick to think the worst. Battered pride steeled her spine. Let him think she'd slept with him only for some cockamamie treasure story, it was better than letting him realize the truth: that for a few hours he'd made her forget about everything else and made her feel like that princess who slew the dragon instead of the scullery maid always dashing around cleaning up everyone else's mess. Ha. That dragon was kicking her ass right now.
The elevator doors she'd been leaning against opened and Josie tumbled inside, landing on her ass.
Sam scowled down at her. “Serves you right.”
“Maybe, but you're forgetting one thing.” Josie couldn't contain the evil grin tightening her cheeks.
“What's that?”
“You're buck-ass naked and your room key is locked in your room.”
His face turned scarlet and he cupped his large package in his equally big hands.
“See you never, shithead.” The elevator doors slid shut and Josie stayed on the floor during the descent, nursing her wounded pride and an unfamiliar ache in her heart.
Chapter Four
Josie gagged on the stench of bacon grease heavy in the air at The Lucky Seven Diner. Head aching from a lack of sleep, she rubbed her scratchy eyes and dry-swallowed a pair of chalky aspirin tablets. What a way to start the second half of a double shift.
A quick glance at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the employee break room door showed off red-rimmed eyes and violet crescents below. It looked as if she'd spent half the night crying—which she hadn't. A third of the night…maybe.
“Josie, three just sat down at table fifteen. It's yours.” Arlene's voice, muffled by the closed door, bounced around her cranium like a pinball.
Time to make some money and save Cy's kneecaps even though her pain-in-the-ass little brother still hadn't returned any of her million or so messages. Desperate, she'd called the emergency number he'd given her a few months ago. A guy with a gruff voice took the message and promised he'd pass it along the next time he saw Cy, but he didn't say when that would be.
Why did everything have to go to shit at once?
She grabbed her order pad, stuffed a few pens in her apron and shuffled out of the break room. The early bird crowd filled most of the booths. If the seniors were here in force, that boded well for the drunk and disorderly customers who'd stumble in toward the end of her shift. Finally, some good luck.
Her step picked up a little bounce as she strode toward table fifteen and the weight on her shoulders lost a few pounds. On her way past the drink station, she swiped a silver carafe of coffee. Even at four in the afternoon, the early birders liked their coffee right away.
Josie whipped out a pen. “So, what'll you have?”
The words were barely out of her mouth when her heart stopped.
Sam sat flanked by a woman who looked like she'd gone twelve rounds in the octagon and the man from the poker game, whom she'd assumed was Sam's relative. Unlike her, Sam looked as though he'd spent the night undisturbed by what-ifs. Instead, he was all broad shoulders, golden hazel eyes and sex appeal. The bastard looked delicious.
Eventually, the shock wore off and her heart revived, beating so fast she felt the thrum in her ears and her body sizzled underneath her plain black T-shirt and ever-present jeans.
“Hey! I know you.” The younger man broke the silence. “You were one of the waitresses at our poker game. That jerk sure did deserve it.”
“Uh, thanks.” She couldn't tear her gaze away from Sam and the way his ears turned pink, making her want to nibble on the lobes, right after she boxed them.
The man put his elbows on the table and leaned around Sam to get closer to the woman. “It was awesome. This asshole…” He glanced up at Josie. “Sorry about that. This jerk grabbed her tits…” He smiled an apology toward her. “Sorry. This jerk grabs her…breasts during the poker game. So, she takes this ginormous silver tray that she'd been using to carry the drinks and whacks him over the head with it. It was a sight to behold.”
He relaxed back, a goofy grin on his face.
For his part, Sam had gone perfectly still. The sun streamed in from the window behind him, illuminating his light-brown hair and bringing out the auburn highlights. On another man, she'd assume those streaks had come from a stylist's talented hands, but not with Sam. No, he was too earthy for that. Not to mention she'd seen the touch of ginger down below. Her nipples hardened at the mental image, her body disregarding the do-not-want alert her brain telegraphed.
The woman's gaze flicked back and forth between Josie and Sam before she flipped up her heavy ceramic mug. “May I have some?”
Yanked out of her daze, Josie blinked a few times, trying to remember why she was here. “Uh, yeah.”
“Josie,” Sam's low voice rumbled.
His voice rolled over her like a protective blanket and for a second, she enjoyed the warmth—right up until the moment her pride fought through the comforting weight.
A tight smile pinched her cheeks and she jutted out her hip. “Do I know you?” She cocked her head to one side, sending her curls bouncing. “Oh yeah, you were at the poker game too, right? Scotch, neat, if I remember correctly.”