Lori Foster - Worth The Wait

Having Hogan around even more would be such a blast of temptation. She was only a flesh-and-blood woman and she hadn’t been with a man in too long to count.

But whoever wrote that advice column had recognized an important facet of her personality; she was a businesswoman down to the marrow of her bones. It would be completely stupid to pass up such a terrific opportunity. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I can get most of my work done in the morning, then swing by to lend you a hand while I get things going.”

Disliking him and his unending helpful attitude, she had to fight not to curl her lip. “That’s an awful lot for you to have to do.”

“True.” He briefly touched her cheek. “But I haven’t been sick, so I don’t tire easily.” He smiled and stood again. “I’ll go get started, and seriously, Violet, if you need something, ask.”

* * *

The week went by in a blur of rushed activity, calculations and unending enticement. Between him and Violet, they kept track of menu items, especially those ordered with the ribs, which were an enormous success, just as they’d both assumed they’d be.

At first, Hogan had considered teaching someone to do the ribs during the week for him, for the times when he couldn’t be there. But the more time that passed, the more territorial he felt about it.

And damn it, he enjoyed himself. So much time spent in the fresh air instead of an office. The conversation with customers, many of whom had become friends. The freedom of it, being able to laugh and joke even while working.

He loved it—all but the endless, grinding lust for Violet. Lust, but also more.

Hogan didn’t mean to, but he continually compared her to Meg. His wife had been, at least seemingly, the perfect partner. He wasn’t the only one who’d thought she enjoyed the domestic life, making their home as perfect as she could get it, always clean and orderly and well decorated. She’d loved to cook, stayed involved in the schools and always took pride in her appearance.

Violet, on the other hand, thrived on her business involvement. She would run herself ragged and smile while doing it as long as she was working in the restaurant. By the end of the day her amazing hair was a mess, her subtle makeup smudged and her casual clothes stained, but she never seemed to notice.

He noticed. Hell, he noticed everything about her.

Though incredibly petite, probably weighing no more than one-fifteen, Violet had strength. He’d seen her heft heavy boxes, rearrange picnic tables to rake up leaves and carry platters that weighed nearly as much as she did.

She also handled the occasional disgruntled customer with Southern charm and the take-charge control of a grade school teacher. Far as Hogan could tell, everyone liked her.

Single males flirted with her, but Violet never flirted back, at least not in a way that any guy could take seriously. Her flirting extended to everyone, male, female, young and old.

Except with him. Yet Hogan wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Especially since she still denied him.

In no time at all, Hogan fell into an acceptable rhythm. Being away from the office, working from home, made him more productive. He got far more done in a lot less time without Joni constantly trying to get in his pants. And since Colt was still working at the diner, he saw him more often, too.

It made Hogan wonder about opening his own business, a place where Colt could work alongside him. If it weren’t for the college expenses...

Damn Meg for throwing away everything they’d worked for, including their son’s future.

And for what? Sex with strangers? A few fast good times? Was it a ridiculous midlife crisis, or had she truly, completely stopped loving him to the point that all she felt was disdain?

Hogan didn’t like thinking about it, but he couldn’t clear the thoughts from his brain. He frowned while standing in the prep area, readying his fully cooked ribs for the grill. He realized he was breathing harder as the old rage and helplessness burned through his blood in a fresh wave.

For far too long that rage had chased him into being someone he hadn’t recognized, someone he didn’t respect.

Then Hogan felt a familiar hand swat his butt.

Immediately distracted from the choking memories, he glanced up into Violet’s light blue eyes. “There’s this thing called sexual harassment,” he teased, knowing how he felt about her and how he felt about Joni were two very different things.

Grinning, her thick red hair in a loose topknot, Violet said, “But, sugar, you haven’t even harassed me...today.”

She confused him more than any woman he’d ever known, including his wife. “No, I haven’t. You were busy talking to customers.”

“A group of young ladies who wanted to know Colt’s schedule.” She rolled her eyes. “I told them to ask him, and they said he wouldn’t share.”

“I’m surprised. These days Colt is all about the female attention.”

“I think he’s a tease, like his father.”

He’d like to tease her—in bed. He wouldn’t mind toying with her until she squirmed and panted and begged him to—

She bumped her hip to his. “You’ve got this glazed look in your eyes.”

Hogan scowled. “Do you want me to grill or make out with you?”

She pretended to pout. “It has to be one or the other?”

5

SEXUAL INTEREST CLENCHED Hogan’s muscles and shortened his breath. He looked at Violet, wondering if she meant it, if maybe the pressure was building in her the same explosive way it built in him.

The more they’d worked together, the more sexual their banter had become. It left him frustrated and, at times, annoyed.

Regardless of that, he liked seeing Violet every day. He especially liked stealing a kiss here and there—usually when he could catch her off guard.

Her protests were fewer and farther between. In fact, when he didn’t steal a kiss, she found a way to provoke him, as she did now.

She’d been nearly herself by Thursday, and today she looked even better—less tired, more refreshed. Recovered from her illness.

To be sure, he asked, “You’re feeling okay?”

“I feel terrific.”

“Not working yourself too hard?”

“No harder than necessary, definitely no harder than you.” She tipped her head. “What game are you playing now?”

“Game?”

Her look became accusing. “You going to give me that kiss or not?”

Hogan gave it quick thought and decided on a different tack. He held up his hands, now a little messy with seasonings, rub and sauce. “How about you kiss me instead? I believe in equal rights for women. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, or vice versa. If you want a kiss—”

“Are you challenging me?”

More like testing her, but he only cocked a brow and waited.

Giving it some thought, Violet gazed at his mouth until her own expression warmed, and Hogan knew she’d made up her mind.

Anticipation held him still.

Rising on tiptoe, she lightly touched his lips with a fingertip. He could feel her breath, his own suspended. She leaned forward, caught his bottom lip in her teeth and lightly tugged.

Interest keen, Hogan waited.

She soothed his lip with her hot little tongue and slowly, very slowly, fitted her mouth to his in a kiss that made him half-hard.

He held on to the counter behind him; not only were his hands messy, but if he touched her, he just knew he’d get carried away. They had relative privacy in his prep area, yet they weren’t alone, not in the restaurant with other employees around, customers coming and going.

For only a moment, her breasts pressed to his ribs and her hands held tightly to his shoulders. I want to do this again, Violet, with both of us naked and a bed nearby.