kitchen.
Shit. That means Jax is coming out. I grab my napkin out of my lap and wipe the fry sauce off my face and say, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom to clean my face now, thanks to Amelia.” And I high tail it to the restroom.
My heart is pounding a mile a minute. I don’t want to run into Jax again. I wet a paper towel and clean my face and the glop that dropped onto my shirt, and then give it another five minutes before I think the coast is clear and leave the bathroom.
I open the door and take one step out, and I’m immediately blocked by a man dressed in white. Right at eye level embroidered in dark blue on the white jacket is the name, Jax.
Shit.
“I wanted to make sure your plain cheeseburger was to your liking?” he asks, drawing out the word ‘plain’ in a sarcastic tone.
I take a step back and groan. Then I cross my arms over my chest. Unfortunately, it was a fantastic cheeseburger, but I can’t let him know that.
“I have a picky eater at home and I just wanted to make sure it was to your liking and wondered if you liked the secret ingredient,” he says with a chuckle.
Secret ingredient?
“What secret ingredient?” I ask, looking into his amused eyes. I on the other hand am so not amused.
“Did you like it?” he asks again.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what the secret ingredient was and then I’ll tell you if I liked it or not,” I say, getting slightly angry.
“If I tell you the secret ingredient, then you’re for sure going to tell me you didn’t like it. Because I know Sky doesn’t like it either, but she can’t get enough of it when I make burgers at home. Did you like it or not?”
“Alright, I did,” I say, giving in with a sigh. “It was hands down the best burger I’ve ever eaten. Are you happy now?”
“I am,” he says, then turns around and walks away.
“Hey, wait just one minute. I told you I liked it; now tell me, what was the secret ingredient?” I say, catching up to him. He stops mid stride, making me walk right into his back. He turns around and puts his meaty hook on my arm to steady me, bends slightly down and whispers in my ear.
“Blue cheese. I stuffed blue cheese in the center of the burger. It melts into the beef and adds amazing flavor.” His hand on my arm and his breath in my ear sends goosebumps down the back of my legs. I’ve never had goosebumps run down the back of my legs before. I want nothing more than to yell and scream at him. How dare he put gross, moldy cheese that’s blue in my burger without me knowing it? What if I were allergic to blue cheese? What if I keeled over in my chair in the middle of his crowded restaurant? And why are my feet frozen where I stand? He lets go of my arm, gives me a sideways smile, then he winks at me.
He winked at me.
Of all the nerve, he seriously winked at me then just turns around to leave.
I suddenly come unglued from my frozen spot, and I don’t know why or how the thought even entered my mind, but I reach down and flip off one of my Gucci black patent leather open-toe pumps and hurl it at his back. It lands with a thud dead center, and then falls to the floor. Clearly, I didn’t think this thoroughly through. Shoes aren’t like cats. They don’t land on their feet or in their case on their soles. He stops, my heart stops, then he slowly turns around. He takes two giant steps back toward me and I take two steps back and plaster my back to the wall. He comes a hairsbreadth away from my cheek, then takes a deep inhale. My nipples instantly get hard and if he doesn’t touch me soon I may combust. He growls in my ear like the Neanderthal he is, and then walks away again.
What the fuck was that?
I walk back to the table and slide numbly in my seat, as the rest of the family devours what looks like red velvet cheesecake. That’s my favorite. I push mine away and sit there like I was just stunned with a ray gun.
“I have to go. I have to go back to the
Shit. That means Jax is coming out. I grab my napkin out of my lap and wipe the fry sauce off my face and say, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom to clean my face now, thanks to Amelia.” And I high tail it to the restroom.
My heart is pounding a mile a minute. I don’t want to run into Jax again. I wet a paper towel and clean my face and the glop that dropped onto my shirt, and then give it another five minutes before I think the coast is clear and leave the bathroom.
I open the door and take one step out, and I’m immediately blocked by a man dressed in white. Right at eye level embroidered in dark blue on the white jacket is the name, Jax.
Shit.
“I wanted to make sure your plain cheeseburger was to your liking?” he asks, drawing out the word ‘plain’ in a sarcastic tone.
I take a step back and groan. Then I cross my arms over my chest. Unfortunately, it was a fantastic cheeseburger, but I can’t let him know that.
“I have a picky eater at home and I just wanted to make sure it was to your liking and wondered if you liked the secret ingredient,” he says with a chuckle.
Secret ingredient?
“What secret ingredient?” I ask, looking into his amused eyes. I on the other hand am so not amused.
“Did you like it?” he asks again.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what the secret ingredient was and then I’ll tell you if I liked it or not,” I say, getting slightly angry.
“If I tell you the secret ingredient, then you’re for sure going to tell me you didn’t like it. Because I know Sky doesn’t like it either, but she can’t get enough of it when I make burgers at home. Did you like it or not?”
“Alright, I did,” I say, giving in with a sigh. “It was hands down the best burger I’ve ever eaten. Are you happy now?”
“I am,” he says, then turns around and walks away.
“Hey, wait just one minute. I told you I liked it; now tell me, what was the secret ingredient?” I say, catching up to him. He stops mid stride, making me walk right into his back. He turns around and puts his meaty hook on my arm to steady me, bends slightly down and whispers in my ear.
“Blue cheese. I stuffed blue cheese in the center of the burger. It melts into the beef and adds amazing flavor.” His hand on my arm and his breath in my ear sends goosebumps down the back of my legs. I’ve never had goosebumps run down the back of my legs before. I want nothing more than to yell and scream at him. How dare he put gross, moldy cheese that’s blue in my burger without me knowing it? What if I were allergic to blue cheese? What if I keeled over in my chair in the middle of his crowded restaurant? And why are my feet frozen where I stand? He lets go of my arm, gives me a sideways smile, then he winks at me.
He winked at me.
Of all the nerve, he seriously winked at me then just turns around to leave.
I suddenly come unglued from my frozen spot, and I don’t know why or how the thought even entered my mind, but I reach down and flip off one of my Gucci black patent leather open-toe pumps and hurl it at his back. It lands with a thud dead center, and then falls to the floor. Clearly, I didn’t think this thoroughly through. Shoes aren’t like cats. They don’t land on their feet or in their case on their soles. He stops, my heart stops, then he slowly turns around. He takes two giant steps back toward me and I take two steps back and plaster my back to the wall. He comes a hairsbreadth away from my cheek, then takes a deep inhale. My nipples instantly get hard and if he doesn’t touch me soon I may combust. He growls in my ear like the Neanderthal he is, and then walks away again.
What the fuck was that?
I walk back to the table and slide numbly in my seat, as the rest of the family devours what looks like red velvet cheesecake. That’s my favorite. I push mine away and sit there like I was just stunned with a ray gun.
“I have to go. I have to go back to the
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