Show Me The Honey (Sweet & Dirty BBW #1)(4)

By: Cathryn Cade

Nevertheless, cooking and waitressing was hard work. She’d take time for a solitary lunch before she rode her bike back to her apartment in the older part of downtown Coeur d’Alene.

Now Lindi watched the last SUV full of satisfied customers disappear up the road, and looked at Jack over her soapy cleaning rag. Why was he still here? Unless he wanted to ask her out, and didn’t want an audience. Right—like this man would mind onlookers. He’d expect success. Still, a thrill of heat ran through her at the possibility.

“You waiting for someone?” she asked, wiping syrup and coffee off the far end of the counter. “Because I close at eleven. I’m not open for lunch on weekdays.” She’d like to be, but only the weekends and holidays brought enough mid-day traffic out here along the lake. Someday she intended to be a destination worth driving a little extra for, but that hadn’t happened yet.

Jack took a last drink of coffee and set his mug down. He turned, his torso twisting as he surveyed the empty café and parking lot. He’d taken off his jacket at some point and tossed it across the stool next to him. His snug white tee shirt bore the logo of a California brewery. The thin knit lovingly outlined the heavy muscle in his shoulders, torso and upper arms. A leather belt adorned his waist, with a Harley buckle and sheath holding a large folding knife.

“You could say that,” he said, turning back to her.

Lindi paused, wet rag poised between counter and sink, a rivulet of warm, soapy water trickling down her forearm and splatting on the floor. For the first time since he’d rolled into her parking lot, a frisson of alarm ghosted over her skin. The way he watched her now, those light eyes like a hawk’s watching his prey, did nothing to allay her wariness.

God, she hoped he wasn’t some crooked associate of Darrell’s. He could be a hit man or a serial killer for all she knew. Just because he was hot didn’t mean anything. Look at Ted Bundy—he’d gotten all his victims to go with him willingly.

“Well,” she said, “hope they get here soon. I’ll, um, I’ll just be in the back if you want anything else.”

Her mother had always told her and Cissie to obey their instincts, saying God gave women an extra dose for good reason. And belatedly, Lindi’s instincts drowned out her hormones, screaming danger!

Dropping the rag in the sink, she wiped her wet hands on her apron as she strolled back through the short hallway to her office. She palmed her cellphone from her desk, thumbed the button to bring it to life, then gave a huff of nervous disgust. No service, as usual. Something about the cinderblocks used in the café‘s construction blocked most calls, unless one stood just by the plate glass windows up front.

And she could hardly dial 911 in front of the man of whom she was suspicious, now could she? There were no other phone numbers that required only three digits, and he seemed to notice everything she did.

Keeping her back to the café area, Lindi slipped from the open office door and then glided the several steps to the back door. It opened with a squeak, and she winced. Nothing like advertising her getaway.

Inspired, she shoved her phone into her pocket and hurried back to the trash can just inside the kitchen. Without looking at Jack, she yanked the bag shut and pulled it up out of the barrel.

She turned to carry it along the passageway to the back door, and stopped with gasp as a large body blocked the light. Jack loomed at the corner of the counter. His gaze flicked from the garbage bag to her face.

“You usually take out the trash before you finish scraping dishes?” he asked.

Her heart pounding, Lindi shrugged. Darn, he really did notice everything. She backed up, keeping the garbage between them like a shield.

“Sometimes,” she said, her gaze locked on him as he moved forward. “Wh-what’s it to you?”

“Put it down, honey,” he ordered, taking another step toward her with the smooth, prowling gait of a predator.

Lindi’s heart stopped. Oh, God. She’d been right. He was here for a lot more than breakfast.

As he moved closer, Lindi heaved the trash bag at him, whirled and dashed for the back door.

She nearly made it.

Chapter Two