“Eating.”
“What would you like?”
“It’s late, so I’ll go light. I’ll do the house chopped salad. Extra chicken. And the soup. A couple of rolls.” He paused, looking over my shoulder. “Is that a new kind of cake over there?”
I chuckled. “Spice cake with raisins. It’s been a big hit.”
“A slice of that.”
“Holding back, I see.”
He grinned. “I had a late lunch.”
“Hmm.”
“You’ll sit with me for coffee?”
“Yes.”
“And we’ll be alone later?”
“I have to make cakes, Ronan.”
“I’ll help. But if we’re alone, I can say hello properly. Maybe throw in a goodnight, a how are you, good job—whatever else I can think of.”
The heat pooled in my stomach, slithering up my spine. I met his gaze, watched as his tongue ran along his bottom lip.
“I’ll get your order,” I mumbled, forcing myself to leave before I launched myself at him.
What was that man doing to me?
* * *
I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat with Ronan briefly. I wanted to get everything done and start making the cakes as soon as possible, but I couldn’t resist having a few extra moments with him.
I slid into the booth, eyeing the empty plates. “Everything was okay?”
His reply was enthusiastic. “Awesome. That spice raisin cake? Wicked good.”
“It’s an old recipe from my grandma.”
“I loved it.” He took a sip of coffee. “Quieter in here this week.”
“Not much happening downtown tonight. Less foot traffic.”
“No assholes to contend with,” he mused.
“Not tonight,” I replied with a grimace.
“You had another one?”
I sighed. “You get them all the time in this business, Ronan.”
“Punks.”
“Last night was the type I hate the most. Your age, dressed in a suit that would pay my rent for a year, double-parking his expensive car outside. Demanding, rude. He went off because I didn’t have any whole wheat buns for his veggie burger. It was ten o’clock, and we had run out. I offered the gluten-free or the regular one, but it wasn’t good enough. He ranted at me for five minutes and, of course, got personal.” I shook my head. “I dislike that type the most. The wannabe businessman who’s had Daddy hand him everything and acts as if he is better than anyone. Filled with a sense of entitlement. Who thinks people like me are beneath him. Who pretends to be something he is not.”
A strange look passed over Ronan’s face.
“So, you hate businessmen?”
“No, that would be the same as saying all younger guys are jerks. They aren’t. I dislike the unjustness sometimes. The haves versus the have-nots. Those who have to work hard, and those who get everything handed to them on a plate.” I shrugged. “Ignore me. He was terrible, though.”
“What did he say?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
I sighed. “It’s fine, Ronan. He yelled, he didn’t get what he wanted, and he stormed out, but not before making sure I knew he was much better than I was. Informed me it was hardly a surprise I was the one in the apron. That he mattered, whereas a waitress like me did not.”
“Not all young businessmen are like that.”
I smiled. “I know. Like I said—he was just a jerk. You must have to deal with the same problem at the gym sometimes. People.” I shook my head. “Anyway, he left, and I ate a perfectly acceptable veggie burger on a white bun since he refused to pay for it and I refused to let him have it for free.”
Ronan laughed, but he still looked troubled. “Good.”
I stood. “I’m going to finish up.”
I felt his stare the whole time as I kept busy in the diner. It surprised me how much the rude customer seemed to bother him. I dealt with cranky and mean patrons all the time. Anyone who worked in the public sector did. I would have to get him to tell me some stories about people at the gym. I was sure he had some amusing ones.
I wanted to have as much ready for when we closed as possible. Jane was working and set up her tables for the morning, and since it was quieter, she helped me prep my area as well. I liked working with her. She was friendly and a hard worker, always willing to help out. She didn’t question Ronan’s extended stay but instead nudged me with her elbow before leaving for the night.
“Damn, that is one fine mountain man you have there.”
I had to laugh. Ronan was large. Tall. Broad. I wasn’t a small girl—my curves were too plentiful for that—but beside him, I felt tiny. The other night, he had lifted me as if I weighed nothing and held me close, as if the effort were easy. I had loved it.
I had also loved the feel of his mouth moving with mine. The man knew how to kiss. Possessive and deep. Passionate and fierce. There had been no doubt of his desire. I had felt him hard and pressing between us. My response to him was nothing short of explosive. It had taken all I had in me not to kiss him the way he wanted when he arrived. But I would have ended up on his lap and putting on a display for the restaurant. Somehow, I knew that without a doubt, so I had held back.