For The Night (Luna, #1) (2 page)

As I go to step out, he puts a hand on mine, halting me. “Wait.”

The tingle of awareness that shoots up my arm as his hand covers mine has me clenching my thighs. Hoping he didn’t notice my reaction, I lift a brow to indicate I’m waiting for him to continue.

“You never told me your name.”

I blink. That’s not what I expect him to say. I thought he’d ask me out on a date, but perhaps he wants to know my name first.

I lick my lips, unsure of whether I should tell him my real name or not, and his gaze drops to watch.

My decision is made in that moment.

I want to fuck him, which means he’ll know me as Luna. I don’t tell any man my real name and without my disguise, I’m just Jocelyn, the woman nobody notices; well, unless I’m taking their order.

“Luna.” I stick my hand out and he clasps it in his, eyes filled with desire.

“Well, Luna, how ‘bout dinner tomorrow?”

I’ve no reason to deny him now. Not when I’ve decided we’re going to have sex for the hell of it. I grant my acceptance with a nod.

He shakes his head and tugs my hand sharply, pulling me toward him, sliding his free hand around to cradle the nape of my neck.

Our lips meet as I gasp at his boldness, even as I’m secretly thrilled at this show of his dominance. He doesn’t seek entrance; instead, I take the kiss for what it is: a promise to have dinner with him the following evening.

When he pulls away, he grins and says, “Tomorrow at seven at the hotel.”

I can’t speak for a moment, struck speechless by his kiss; a kiss that set my body on fire.

“Seven,” I confirm softly before stepping out of the car and closing the door.

He drives off and I’m left standing on the curb, smiling like a fool.

The next morning he walks into my diner as per his habit every Monday.

Afraid he will recognize me by voice, I grab the arm of one of my two employees and pull her inside the kitchen area.

“I need you to take care of
him
today,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice calm and collected. “Tell him I’m sick if he asks for me.”

I’m the boss. I can’t show anything except complete confidence to those who work for me. If I panic, they panic and that’s never good for business.

Not that we were doing well in the first place; hence the need to make every customer happy.

Molly grins. “No problem.” She gives me a wink before heading through the doors to do as asked.

I don’t know what bothers me more: the fact she doesn’t even question why I wasn’t taking care of him myself as I always did, or her jubilant and enthusiastic acceptance of my request.

When she walks back a few seconds later, her perplexed look makes my stomach clench.

“Something wrong?”

“Ah, he asked me where you were and said he’s a creature of habit. He prefers you serve him.”

Dammit.

I don’t realize I say that out loud until Molly’s mouth drops open.

“I told him you were sick.” She grimaces. “He said it didn’t matter to him and he needs you to take his order.”

I pat her shoulder. “Thanks for trying. Go get that customer who just walked in for me instead.”

She takes off with a nod.

I run my hands over my head, making sure my black hair is still wrapped neat and smooth in a bun, then slide them down the front of my clothing in the hopes of being most presentable.

What am I doing?

He wants to sleep with me as Luna, not Jocelyn Bates, the girl who serves him breakfast three days a week. There’s no way he’ll make the connection, yet here I stand primping like a high school girl preparing to go on a first date with a hot new classmate.

Get a grip, Bates!

As I walk toward him, pad and pen in hand, I can’t help but admire him. He’s wearing a suit, as always. Today’s choice is dark blue pinstripe with white collared shirt and a matching blue tie. His dark brown hair is windblown, his cheeks flushed as he sits with his hands folded on the table, waiting patiently.

All that changes as I approach when his molten chocolate eyes meet my
natural
grey-blue ones and he smiles.

I freeze, breath stolen.

And wonder what the fuck is wrong with me because I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to anyone in my life.

His smile is glorious. Straight white teeth surrounded by lips that are neither too big nor too plump.

A mouth that briefly touched mine yesterday and would be licking me all over later this evening. Well, that is my plan, at least.

“Are you all right?”

I jerk my eyes up to his, face flaming as I realize he’s been speaking to me and I haven’t heard a word. Nervous, I lick my lips and smile back.

“Yes, sorry. Would you like your usual?” I don’t know why I didn’t just bring the coffee and bowl of fruit with me. His order never differs; as he’d even admitted to Molly, he’s a creature of habit.

I can’t blame him for wanting me to serve him. Since the first day he walked in, I’ve refused to let anyone else serve him.

I wait for recognition to flare in his eyes, for him to say the name I gave him the day before.

He removes his hands from the table and leans back against the seat. His brows lower as he stares at me, his mouth twisting a little at whatever he’s thinking.

My heart speeds up as I wait for his answer, afraid the jig is up before I’ve even gotten the chance to get him naked.

“No,” he finally replies. “I think I’d like for you to tell me what your favorite meal here is.”

I blink once. Twice.

“I—I don’t eat here,” is what flies out of my mouth and as his eyes widen, I start to clarify my statement. “What I mean is—“

He straightens and cuts in, an indecipherable gleam in his eye. “Why not? Is the food here not edible?”

“No!” My spine stiffens and I glare at him. “I mean, yes, it is. Just because I don’t eat here doesn’t mean it isn’t great food.”

“If you don’t eat here, how do you know it
is
good?”

“Because I own this place,” I declare. “I wouldn’t serve crap to anyone.”

“Interesting.” He sits back against the seat once more. “So, tell me, what do
you
believe is the best breakfast food here?”

“Why is that interesting? Did you not know I’m the owner?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I also wonder why you are serving customers; that is a job usually left to a waitress.”

“Because,” I say, lowering my voice as I place my palms flat on the table and lean in so he can hear me, “I believe in doing my fair share around here beyond the paperwork. And I believe in making sure every single customer is satisfied to my fullest ability.”

He sits up and moves his face close enough that our noses nearly touch. Gathering he expects me to pull away, I resist the urge and stay put.

“Is that a promise, Ms. Bates?”

I’m irritated now. Not only is he questioning the food in my restaurant, but he’s so close the sweet and spicy scent of his cologne assaults my senses. For the first time in my life, I want to slap someone almost as much as I want to fuck them.

Guess there’s a first time for everything.

“No,” I hiss, “that’s a damn guarantee.” I straighten as his grin widens and pull out my pad and pen. “If you must know, I recommend the french toast. We use bread made from scratch—“

He cuts me off once more. “Do you have a sister?”

I quell the instant panic that fills me and scowl instead. “No! Why? Would you wanna insult her, too?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says as he looks down at his watch then back up at me. “You just remind me of someone I met yesterday and kind of sound like her too.”

My mouth drops open.

How do I kind of sound like myself?

Speaking before I even think about it, I say, “Oh, do I? Does she think you’re an impudent jackass, too?”

He surprises me by laughing. “Probably.” Clearing his throat, he looks me straight in the eye. “Sorry about that. I’ll take that french toast and some coffee, please.”

I nod and write it down, then twirl on my heel and walk away.

He calls out to me. “Oh, and Ms. Bates?”

I stop and wait without turning around.

“I hope you feel better soon.”

I wince inwardly, knowing he’s pointing out how sick I’m
not
, but lift a hand in acknowledgment and head to the kitchen.

~*~

“Iris! Come here for a sec, please?”

I’m standing in front of the mirror, putting my wig in place, when she walks in. I turn at her whistle.

Iris has been my best friend since we were five years old. We attended the same school from kindergarten through college. When we got this place, we were afraid that living together would end up ruining our friendship, since that was the sort of thing people told us would happen.

But it hadn’t.

I think it is because we are — and always have been — two very different people. She is stubborn; I’m less so. I’m passive while she’s more aggressive. She likes relationships; I don’t. On and on. We each do our own thing, being there for each other no matter what, with no judgment.

“What do you think?”

I’m wearing a black layer skirt that goes to right above my knees, an emerald colored silk shirt with a deep v-neck, and black pumps. I’ve put on eyeliner, eye shadow, and lip gloss. With my wig and contacts, I look nothing like mousy Jocelyn who goes make-up free and wears drab outfits.

Iris smiles at me, her blue eyes shining. “You look gorgeous as always. But—“

I shake my head. “Don’t lecture me. I know what you think of this whole thing already.”

“Joce, you know I love you.” She walks over and hugs me. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I
am
happy,” I insist. “If this didn’t satisfy me, I wouldn’t do it.”

She sighs, nodding as she pulls away. She knows arguing with me is useless, but I do love that she tries anyway.

“I can’t believe you’ve accepted an invitation to go out!”

I turn to leave, rolling my eyes at her. “He gave me a ride and asked me. I saw how he looked at me; turning him down would’ve been stupid.”

She follows me as I exit, her excitement making me wish I hadn’t told her anything beyond the usual.

Dexter stands by the front door. As I approach, he holds out my jacket. “You want a ride?”

“Not really, but you’ll insist anyway,” I retort with a laugh as I put it on. “So lets go.”

He winks and heads outside to the car. I whirl to face Iris and she pulls me into a hug.

“I want to hear all about it tomorrow!”

I laugh as she releases me. “You know I’ll tell you as much as I usually do.”

She pouts, crossing her arms and making puppy dog eyes at me. This only lasts for a second before her phone rings and her eyes light up as she takes in the name on the screen. I know who it is: her boyfriend, Garret. She waves at me before answering and walks away.

When I reach the car, Dexter is waiting. He turns down the blaring music as I get in.

Dexter is a lot like Iris. While he’s a man who loves sex, he actually prefers relationships. He also elected himself as my brother, saying since I didn’t have one, that someone had to look out for me. And by look out, he meant lecture me every chance he got to try and persuade me to change my ways.

“You know I wish you wouldn’t do this,” he says not even one-second after he pulls away from the curb. “You never know what could happen.”

I give him the ‘are you kidding me?’ look. “By that logic, I shouldn’t drive a car. Or even go outside my house without someone with me. Or hell, stay
inside
my house because someone could break in. See how ridiculous this is?”

“Yeah, but it’s worse. Because—“

“No.” I scowl at him as he pulls up in front of the hotel. “I’ll be fine. I’ve given you two his name just in case, but I’ll be fine and you know it.”

I don’t see what I do as reckless; after all, I have Iris and Dexter, a system to let them know how it is going at specific intervals…and a thing of mace.

Even so, I refuse to live in fear. Life is an adventure and I will live to the fullest.

He frowns back at me, so I lean over and give him a hug. He squeezes once before releasing me.

“Smile,” I say, grinning. “I don’t want the last thing I see before I die to be your frown.”

He grips the steering wheel and throws me a disgusted look. “That’s not funny!”

I roll my eyes and open the door with a laugh. “Later, Dex. Love ya.”

I hear him chuckle as I shut it and walk into the hotel to wait for what I hope will be the best sex of my life.

The man really seems to like his suits.

As I approach the private table in the back where Tobias sits, he stands up and I instantly focus on his attire.

I’ve never been one to drool over a man in a suit or uniform, yet I am unable to stop myself from staring as he pulls out my chair.

He’s changed into a black one for dinner. He wears no vest — only a white shirt and no tie, the first button undone. His hair is rather tame, if a bit unruly and all I want to do is run my hands through it. I don’t know why he changed his clothes, but I certainly don’t mind the more relaxed air he’s giving off.

When he lifts a brow at my inspection, I merely smile and sit down.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He grins and takes a seat across from me.

The waiter comes and takes our drink order. Then we’re left alone.

“I trust you had a nice day?” His voice is pleasant and low.

“I did. And you?”

“Yes.” He sits forward, all his intense attention on me. “You are stunning.”

I want to suck in a breath at the blatant desire shining from his eyes, but manage to control it. Barely.

The waiter arrives before I can respond and sets our drinks down.

“Are you ready to order?”

Tobias nods and looks at me.

“Yes,” I say, not even needing to look at the menu as I give the waiter a smile. “May I please get the six-ounce filet, medium-rare, with a loaded baked potato? That’s all.”

He writes it down as I look back at Tobias. He smirks at me as the waiter turns to him.