Lori Foster - Worth The Wait

Oh, he was definitely fired up. Maybe in a good way.

When she didn’t fight him, didn’t lurch away, he lifted his head and stared down at her. Heat lightened the color of his blue eyes and his breath had thickened.

Violet licked her lips, tasting him. But it wasn’t enough. Without really thinking through the obvious consequences, she rested her hands on his chest and leaned closer.

Hogan groaned. By slow degrees he gathered her against his body until they touched from thighs to chests. His attention drifted back and forth from her eyes to her mouth until, finally, his mouth settled on hers again.

Slower this time, more gently.

Far more devastating.

Fisting her hands in his shirt, Violet fitted herself more tightly against him. Oh, she’d known he would be trouble to her senses, but heaven help her, it was even worse than she’d expected. He turned his head, and his tongue touched along her bottom lip. She immediately opened, making her own small, desperate sound of need.

He stroked a hand down her back to her hips, hesitated, then opened his fingers over her backside, cuddling, exploring—

The knock on the door sent them both jumping apart.

Hogan stared at her, unblinking.

“Dad?”

Colt’s voice. Dear God. Violet jerked away, pretending to be busy with her file cabinet. Honestly, she didn’t know what she was doing. Shuffling something...

Behind her, she heard the door open, and then Hogan said, “What’s up?”

“Someone just dropped off a stack of the Clearbrook Trickle. What should I do with them?”

“The what?”

Violet cleared her throat. “How can you have been here so long and not know about the Trickle?”

“What is it?”

Glad to have something to focus on, but keeping her back to them anyway, she explained, “It’s the free community paper. All the various establishments in Clearbrook set them out so the locals can know about any sales, public activities, school calendars and stuff like that. Each week they herald a local citizen for one reason or another, and there’s also this newly added advice column. Very delicious stuff.”

“Advice column?” Hogan asked.

“Yeah. It’s been really fun.” She glanced back at Hogan, and with Colt standing there smiling at her in such a knowing way, she had to fight a blush. “It’s all worded in a way that you’re unsure who is who, you know? You were in it last week. Some lady wanted to know how to convince you to go shirtless.”

She watched his face blanch. Then, amazingly, hot color slashed his cheekbones. “You’re making that up.”

Feeling more herself, now that he was the uncomfortable one, Violet crossed her heart. “Swear it’s true.”

Colt laughed. “Did you keep a copy?”

Of course she had. She opened a lower drawer of the cabinet and withdrew her saved copy, already folded back to the right page. “Here you go, sugar. Bet you didn’t know your old dad was a hottie, did you?”

“Yeah, it’d be hard to miss the way the ladies carry on.” Colt shifted the stack into one arm, and with the other, he skimmed the paper. He read aloud.

“Many denizens of the female variety would like to know how to get a certain barbecue chef to tend his meats...shirtless.”

Hogan looked aggrieved.

“Ladies, I suggest you ask him. It appears he has few boundaries, if all the gossip is true. Or to be more effective, issue the request to the one who employs him. She seems to be a very competent business owner who won’t likely let a promo opportunity go unchecked.”

Colt’s laughing gaze met hers. “What do you think?”

“I asked him,” she said. “So far as I know, he’s considering it.”

Colt’s eyes widened and he guffawed.

“It’s absurd,” Hogan blustered, and he gave his son a shove, almost making him lose hold of the papers.

Colt caught his balance and laughed all the more.

“It’s entertaining,” Violet corrected, taking back her copy and storing it in the file cabinet again. “Go read it and you’ll see what I mean.” To Colt she said, “You can put the new editions on the counter next to the register. They won’t be there long.”

“Thanks.” Colt didn’t leave. “I also wanted to let Dad know I’m heading to the creek with friends after my shift ends in an hour. That is, unless you need me to stay longer?”

Well, shoot. Violet glanced up, trying for a bright smile, and said, “Not a problem, kiddo. Go and have fun.”

Of course Colt’s gaze jumped from hers to his father’s and back again. He grinned. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Holding a file in front of her, she faced him. “You look far too much like your dad with that particular expression.”

Both father and son blinked over that.

Hogan, bless the man’s prudence, stepped out of the office and took Colt with him. She could hear the low drone of their conversation, but not precisely what was said.

Colt’s laughter traveled back to her; because of the Trickle, or because he knew what they’d been doing?

For a brief second, Violet considered racing to the door and locking it while Hogan was on the other side. But that would be foolish, and besides, she didn’t have the energy for racing.

A few minutes later Hogan returned—and he let the door stand open.

Violet stared at him. “You overstepped,” she said and wished he’d kiss her again. She wanted him. Worse, she liked him.

The problem was that she very much disliked liking him.

Wanting him was a little easier to take.

“I know I did, but with good intentions.” He leaned back against the wall and tried to stare her down. “First, I don’t want your money.”

“I already pay you!”

“Let me clarify. I don’t want your money for helping out a friend and neighbor. For clocking in and standing over a hot grill, yeah, you bet I’ll take my pay.”

“You don’t consider snooping through my records real work? You do that for all your friends?” Maybe for all the women you lust after?

He smiled. “You’d be surprised how many people want free advice. Back in Columbus it happened all the time, especially with my wife’s...” He stopped, shook his head and frowned.

His wife’s what? Her family? Did he see them anymore?

Did Colt?

“Once I have you set up, you’ll be able to do the recording yourself. Or you can hire a good accountant to keep up.”

“Meaning someone other than you?”

“I’m as good as it gets,” he said without modesty. “I’m also expensive. Or used to be, anyway. I meant someone better than the idiot who mucked up your books in the first place.”

That idiot had worked for her great-uncle, and since she’d loved her uncle a lot, she’d tried hard to honor all his decisions. Unfortunately, even she knew Uncle Bibb had been out-of-date on many things, especially bookkeeping, and he’d been more interested in making the restaurant a family, rather than a thriving business.

Resenting Hogan a lot, she eased down into her chair. “You mentioned cost analysis.”

“Yeah. For instance, you aren’t charging enough for the ribs, not with the way they’re selling. Same goes for the specialty burgers, the meat loaf and a few other menu items.” He came to lean on her desk and spent half an hour telling her his initial assessment, what should be adjusted up and what should be adjusted down. He even suggested she alter her specials based on sales stats.

She didn’t like owing him, and now she was more in his debt than she wanted to admit. She was also impressed. “I was thinking the same about the ribs, but until I can offer them through the week, I don’t want to tamper with success.”

“So let’s do a test week. Since I’m working from home, I can be around enough for you to sell ribs for dinner. We can keep track and see how that goes, plus see what sides sell the best with them. From what I can tell, it’s potato salad and leafy salad, but I’m not in the kitchen much, so I can’t say for sure. That’s just what I see with the customers sitting around me.”