Show Me The Honey (Sweet & Dirty BBW #1)(3)

By: Cathryn Cade

Finally, he lifted his chin in acknowledgement, his gaze never leaving her face.

“Yeah, coffee sounds good.” His voice was deep and rough in a way that sent pleasure prickling along her nerve endings. Darn, was there anything about the man that wasn’t sexy?

“Right,” she chirped. “Coffee, comin’ up.”

She filled one of her sturdy mugs and set it before him with a napkin and a spoon. She turned, squatted to pull a saucer of cream packets from the small refrigerator under the back counter—because bending over just emphasized her big ass—and set it near his place setting.

Not like he was here to look at her, anyway. She moved a few steps away, pulled the tray of plastic honey bears that were a signature of the BeeHive from a lower shelf and began to set them out along the counter, one for every two places.

“Need a menu?” she asked.

He picked up one of the creamer pods and flicked it open with a thumbnail. His hands were as big as the rest of him, and calloused but clean.

“You give good breakfast?” he asked.

Lindi met his gaze, her cheeks warm. He’d managed to invest the question with a nearly sexual innuendo. And his sparkling eyes seemed to miss nothing, including her reaction. Well, it took more than a mouthy biker to rattle her.

“The best you ever ate,” she retorted.

His wide mouth twitched in the hint of a smile as he stirred the cream into his mug. “Just coffee for now, Lindi.”

He knew her name? Duh, right. Her name was spelled out in yellow thread, with the bees buzzing around it, on her black apron. “That’s me. And you are?”

He tilted his head in the ghost of a courtly bow. “I’m Jack.”

Her cheeks heated even more. “Okay, Jack. You, um, let me know if you want anything to eat.” And anything else, like maybe picking her up and pulling her right over the counter for a long, hot kiss.

The plastic bear in her hand spurted honey. No wonder, she’d been squeezing it. As honey dripped over her fingers, Jack’s grin widened, his eyes twinkling. God, she was such a dork. Lindi grabbed the tray of bears and turned away to dip her hand and the sticky bear under a stream of warm water, carefully avoiding that knowing gaze.

“You get many customers out here?” he asked.

“I do,” she answered with satisfaction. “The warm weekend we just had brought lots of cyclists and walkers out to the trail along the lake. Also, wild turkey season just opened, so I expect a lot of turkey hunters to make it a three-day weekend. And there’ll be fishermen headed out onto Coeur d’Alene Lake for spring kokanee.”

“Sounds good for business.”

“Uh-huh, sure is.”

As she set the rest of the bears out on the tables, a pickup truck with two men swung into the lot outside, followed by a red Honda SUV. Lindi breathed a sigh of relief. Her day was about to get busy. That was excellent—money in the till and no time to continue this semi-flirtation or whatever it was.

Anyway, Jack probably flirted this way with every woman he met. And they would certainly flirt back—he was a lot of man, and he had a way of focusing on a woman that made her feel special—not threatened in a nasty way, like that creep Darrell.

By ten-fifteen, the breakfast rush at the BeeHive was over. The last vehicle of outdoor sports enthusiasts had rolled out of her parking area, leaving Lindi with a comfortably full till, a dishwasher and sink loaded with dirty dishes … and Jack.

He’d remained, drinking coffee and watching her cook and carry out platter after platter of pancakes, cinnamon rolls, eggs, bacon, sausage and hash-browns, along with a few orders of granola and one bowl of oatmeal.

Finally at eight o’clock he’d ordered the Fisherman’s Special—three whole-grain huckleberry pancakes, two eggs and a rasher of crisp bacon. She’d watched with satisfaction as he ate with relish, noting that he was a honey man—he drizzled that over his pancakes instead of the maple syrup favored by many. Having put away every bite, he thanked her with a nod of appreciation and resumed drinking coffee.

She’d nibbled a few bites here and there herself between customers—a broken fried egg, a piece of bacon and a ruined pancake with honey and huckleberry syrup. She’d love to chow down big plates of food like her customers, but she was already self-conscious about her weight, so she tried to watch her intake. Dave had loved her breasts and her ass, calling it heart-shaped and perfect for a man to get a good grip on, but for herself, she’d love to be a couple of sizes smaller.