Good riddance to the snow! Already, she was head-over-heels in lust with Florida. She wouldn’t mind staying forever if she never saw another flake of falling snow or twisted her ankle on another patch of demonic ice. If she never had to shovel another drive way or de-ice her car she’d be in her glory.
With ease, she fell into the routine of her new job. But after a couple weeks, she began to wonder where all the men were. Where was the surplus she’d expected? Weren’t there supposed to be herds of surfer dudes and hoards of vacationers, guys on college breaks, and cosmopolitan European travellers? Hell, there were more single men in Alaska than what she’d seen, only she couldn’t see what kind of shape they were in beneath their bulky parkas.
Here, in the land of fun and sun, people worshipped their bodies and loved to show them off, which she didn’t mind. Especially if that body belonged to Evan. Her boss was such a cutie she was falling for him. She couldn’t forget her hot dream of the night before, one she’d had more than once since coming to work for him more than five weeks before, and she feared, however, that he wasn’t interested in her that way in the slightest. He’d shown no signs although he was always nice and friendly.
“Hey, sweetie,” Evan said as if she’d conjured him. “Be a doll and sneak me a big, juicy burger loaded with a plateful of fries.”
Tsk-tsking, she put her hands on her hips to keep them from talking as much as to make her stance. “Now just why do I need to ‘sneak’ them to you? You know you’re not supposed to eat that stuff. Chris gave explicit orders not to let you eat that kind of junk.”
Evan rolled his eyes and tugged her hair as if she was his kid sister. “Who gave you the job? Doest thou, oh ungrateful one, forget so quickly? Besides, Chris never need know.”
She got a bad feeling and wavered, hating to be stuck in the middle between the studs. She poked her finger into his chest, amazed at her bravado with the man she called ‘boss’. “You, mister, don’t play fair.”
“Man was not meant to survive on whey shakes and tofu forever. Have mercy. He’s becoming a regular health-freak monster. You don’t like how your father bullies you, and I don’t like this.”
Put that way…
She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as her gaze darted to and fro for any signs of the other big honcho. “Okay, but I’m going on record that I don’t like this. You owe me a big one.”
Evan kissed her cheek. “I owe you two.” He took his booty and stole away to a corner behind a high stack of paper goods. His moans of ecstasy rent the air, and she couldn’t help but crack a grin at the orgasmic sounds, wishing she’d caused them in a different fashion.
She floated to the clouds and touched her cheek, trying to hold onto Evan’s kiss. Euphoric, she never wanted to wash her face again.
To her co-waitress, Rochelle, Jordin stared into the distance and said in a dreamy voice, “Is Evan married or does he have a girlfriend?” She crossed her fingers and hoped with all her heart not. The longer she was here, the more she liked him. Except for the fact that he wasn’t Mormon, her dad couldn’t help but love the man, either. Not that she cared what he thought, she reminded herself. She was going to live life on her terms now. Not on his! Not even if he disinherited her or if his church ex-communicated her, not that she thought they could ex-communicate someone who didn’t profess to be a member even if her name had been on the rolls as a child.
Rochelle turned slowly to her and just stared, her eyes wide. “You really don’t know?”
Horror movie music thundered through Jordin’s mind, and she got a lump in the pit of her stomach. This guy probably was a temple-card carrying Mormon with eight or nine kids and a pregnant wife at home. Fearing the worst, her stomach twisted into knots. “Know what? From the look on your face, he must be engaged or married with a bunch of kids. Just because I come from the outback of Alaska, I’m not a hic.”
Rochelle blinked and pulled her aside into a corner. Whispering loudly, she said, “Honey, maybe you’re more naïve than you give yourself credit.”
Not at all appreciating the sound of that, Jordin frowned. “Well, my dad is Mormon so I grew up in a G-rated house.”
Rochelle snorted and slid a glance in Evan’s direction. Then she asked on a hushed whisper, “On another planet, too? Evan might be engaged, but not to anybody with a set of boobs.” Her friend paused to let her words sink in. When Jordin shrugged, she said in an exasperated voice, “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Evan and Chris are a couple.”
“Chris who?” Jordin hadn’t met any Chris or Christines here except for Chris, the co-owner…
Her head pounded, and the heat drained from her cheeks. She felt icier than she had on any snowbound Alaska wintry day. Then her knees went weak, her hopes dashed into a billion shards. She felt like an idiot as an unthinkable possibility struck her between the eyes. “You mean that Chris, his business partner, is also his…”
“Bed partner,” Rochelle finished the sentence. She nodded and bounced a toothpick around in her mouth, her too-red lipstick smearing on it. “Yep. They’re partners in more than one way. Sorry to burst your pretty little bubble.”
Jordin wanted to kick herself and buried her head in her hands. “What must they think of me? Y’all must think I’m some kind of stupid.” Oi! She really was a country bumpkin.
Rochelle draped a sisterly arm about her shoulders and gave her a commiserating hug. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. You’re not the first woman to fall for Evan’s dreamy baby blues. I’ve been working here since Elvis was a baby so that’s how I know. They’re not very demonstrative in public, not that they’re in the closet or anything.”
Jordin suppressed another groan and prayed Evan hadn’t wandered back into earshot. “Oh, well. There’s gotta be lots of available, straight men in a place called ‘Paradise’, right?” So why hadn’t she found any in the weeks she’d been here?
Rochelle harrumphed. “About all you’ll find here are old coots lookin’ for a piece of young ass and airhead surfer dudes, ya know.”
Jordin screwed up her lips and plopped her chin onto her hand. She had hardly seen any of them. “I was hoping to find a man before my dear old dad tracks me down and forces me to marry some stuffed-shirt, return missionary. Maybe I should move on down the road.”
Rochelle frowned and shook her head so hard her wispy curls looked ready to lift off in flight. “Like it’s cheap to move around in the pursuit of men? Like single, straight, decent ones are hanging around waiting for us a hop, skip and a jump up the road, anyway. Honey, we’d all be nomads if we thought it was that easy.”
Jordin almost forgot she was masquerading as a pauper and started to blurt out, “Oh, that’s not a p—” Just in time she bit her tongue so hard she wanted to cry.
“Ya know, I thought the rugged northwest was the best place to find single, available men. Big, curly lumberjacks and mountain men. That’s where I’d go if I was on the prowl.” Rochelle drooled, gazing out into space with a wishful expression. Then she rounded her questioning gaze on Jordin. “So what are you doing here? You were in men central and a cute little thing like you couldn’t hook up with one? The rest of us are in a heap of trouble if that’s the case.”
It was Jordin’s turn to snort as she envisioned the Alaska roughnecks who didn’t do anything but turn her off. Why were there so few normal men back home? Somewhere in the middle of back woods scoundrel, hermits and goody two shoes Mormon boys? She wasn’t impressed with the unwashed, ice men who wanted to throw her over their shoulder and haul her off to their caves. “Yeah, only if you like them hairier than Grizzly Adams. No thank you.” She shuddered anew and hugged herself.
“Maybe you should’ve moseyed on down to California. I hear there’s a ton of men out there, too.” Rochelle collected her order and balanced plates on her arms like a pro.
“Too close to Daddy Dearest,” Jordin mumbled under her breath, shivered then snatched a fry from her customer’s plate. No way did she wan
t to live under his thumb and worry that she belonged to a cult the rest of her life or feel guilty that she didn’t have an iron-clad testimony the same as everyone in his church—according to them, the only true church. She was tired of being an outcast. Being shunned in Seminary during her high school years because her mother refused to go to their church had taken its toll. To them a Catholic, even a devout rosary-carrying one, was worse than being a demon. She was half heathen. She’d rather die than be dragged back there. Even if she was disinherited it’d be worth it to escape.
* * * *
Rochelle sought out Evan after her shift. “You know the new girl, Jordin? I’m afraid she might be getting ready to fly the coop. She’s a nice kid and a hard worker. It’d be a shame to lose her.”
Evan didn’t like the news, but it was a fact of life that restaurant help had a high attrition rate. He wasn’t exactly shocked so he shrugged. He couldn’t tie her up and force her to stay. “That’s too bad. Is she upset by anything we’ve done or not done?”
“Naaa. She likes you a lot.” Rochelle averted her eyes and bit her lip. “She, uh, hoped to find romance in paradise, and so far, it ain’t happened so she’s thinking of looking further afield.”
Evan frowned and scratched his chin. “She’s young. She’s got plenty of time to find Mr. Right.” For the millionth time, he felt very blessed to have found his and vowed never to let him go. He hoped the sweet young woman would find the man of her dreams, too, but he wished she wouldn’t be in such a hurry. He hated to lose such an excellent employee even if he’d known up front she’d probably only stick around for the summer.
Rochelle snuck him a strawberry malted milk shake and an order of onion rings and kept a lookout for Chris or any of his snitches. “Well, you’d think so, but apparently her daddy is forcing his choice on her. She wants to find a man of her choosing before he chooses someone for her.”
“She did mention something about that. I didn’t realise it was so serious. Why doesn’t she just say ‘no’?” In pure ecstasy he slurped his malt and drained the cup. Then he attacked his onion rings. He grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the grease on his chin.
Rochelle playfully swatted his shoulder and sounded more like his mama than his own mother. “You know a lot of people, boss. Fix her up. Maybe if she’s happy in the romance arena she’ll stick around awhile.”
He scowled, running his acquaintances through his mind. Few of them were single much less in the market for a woman. “I know a lot of ‘gay’ men. I don’t think that’s exactly what she’s looking for.”
“You’re a pillar of the community. You know a lot of other people, too.”
He thought about it and came up with a face or two, none of them good enough for their Jordin. “Maybe but we’re not a dating service. I know a lot of people who hooked up on eHarmony. She could try that.”
Rochelle scrunched up her nose and harrumphed. “My niece hooked up with someone from one of those Internet dating sites and all he really wanted was a nursemaid to tend to him while he was laid up after an operation. Then he dumped her, high and dry. Well, at least give it some thought. I’m sure you’ll come up with somebody decent to introduce her to. If my son ever visits, I’d introduce him, but I ain’t holding my breath. He’s too busy cavorting around up in New York City trying to be a big shot to think of visiting his devoted mama, even if she lives in Paradise.”
“I’ll see what I can do but no promises.” Evan carried the dishes to the dishwasher and loaded them. He pitched in a lot, and thus got along well with the staff. It also gave him an opportunity to keep his eye on things without coming off as a slave driver. That was Chris’s job. They liked to play good cop, bad cop. It worked well in running the place, and he was far more comfortable in his role as the good, sweet one everybody loved.
Evan couldn’t get his mind off Jordin or her love-life. He caught her staring wistfully at happy couples and he was at a loss that the local men weren’t falling all over her. Were they too stuck up to date a mere waitress? Or did they know she was just seasonal and were afraid of getting their hearts broken when she finally decided to go back home to the frozen Northwest?
He wondered if it was because she came off as too sheltered, too naïve, as much as she longed to be worldly. Maybe it was her habit of throwing around her hands when she spoke. It was a bitch, but people could be so prejudiced if they thought someone disabled or different. They probably assumed she was deaf and were scared of her.
If only they knew how wrong they were! If he were of a different persuasion, he’d go for her. If his heart didn’t belong to Chris, he could lose himself in her luscious eyes and her cupid bowed lips…
Aghast at the direction of his thoughts, realising his cock was getting excited as he thought about the woman, he pulled himself up short. “Man, you’d better stay away from that kind of danger.” He knew he should wish her bon voyage and help her move on down the road. He couldn’t believe he felt even a stitch of attraction for a woman, especially not when he was euphorically happy with Chris.
A body pressed up against his from behind and a pair of hairy arms wrapped around his waist. Warm, heady lips kissed his neck and a big, swollen cock ground against his butt. The hands dipped lower and boldly rubbed his cock. Riptides of desire threatened to drown him and wantonly, he reached behind him to caress his lover’s cock, immediately turned on, ready to fuck and be fucked.
“What danger?” Chris’s velvety tones coasted over him.
Evan’s heart screeched to a dead stop then it jolted back with fierce beats and he started to choke at the unexpected question. His cheeks flamed, and he felt guilty like he’d been unfaithful even though he hadn’t so much as exchanged a flirtatious gaze with the woman. Trying to think fast, his mind raced over plausible answers that wouldn’t sound guilty as sin. Finally, he decided to stick as close to the truth as possible as he was the world’s most rotten liar. “Uh, I think it’d be dangerous to try to play matchmaker like Rochelle’s trying to get me to do.” He kicked himself for stammering, but he congratulated himself on telling the truth, if not all of it.
Chris turned him around in his arms and swayed against him as if he heard music in his head. “So the old broad’s horny? Does she have someone in mind she wants to be fixed up with? I’ve seen her making doe eyes at Myron down at the Toad Bar & Grill.”
A chuckle scratched Evan’s throat and he couldn’t keep it in. “Not for her,” he murmured against Chris’s lips. “For the new waitress, Jordin.”
Chris’s brows knitted together and the Grand Canyon creviced his forehead. “Why should Rochelle want you to set her up? Can’t she do her own matchmaking?”
“Apparently not.” Evan didn’t like the idea of throwing the pretty woman to the horny young wolves who hung around this joint or the old wrinkled men wearing ostentatious cocktail diamonds on every finger who thought all they had to do was wink at a woman to get her to strip naked and hand over her soul in exchange for their fat bank account. He’d never gone for old farts like that, and he wouldn’t let her, either.
Wouldn’t let her?
Like it was his place?
He scowled at his thoughts and shook his head, wanting to bop his ears to stop his unwelcome thoughts. He felt like he should say a dozen Hail Mary’s to repent. Still, he couldn’t get her out of his head even while Chris was cradled against his heart.
“I don’t think you should get involved, especially not with an employee. I’d steer clear,” Chris purred against his lips and brazenly slipped his hands into Evan’s pants.
Evan was shocked that Chris would get so randy in public, even if they were hidden in the back of the store room. One of the staff could traipse back and catch them. On second thought, he was turned on and liked this kind of danger. What was life without a little risk?
“Um, what got you so hot to trot tonight?” Evan murmured against his lover’s lips as he gyrated his hips, his excitement mounting.
Chris tugged at Evan
’s swiftly hardening cock and wrapped his fingers around it. “Seeing the big bulge in your pants always makes me hot, lover.” His breath, hot and smelling sweetly of fresh apples, mingled with his and scorched his chest. “I thought I’d help you out, you know, to alleviate your discomfort.”
“Since when is making love with you uncomfortable?”
“Only the waiting and wishing for it is, not the indulging.” Chris slid his tongue in Evan’s mouth then drew back with acute accusation in his gaze. He shook his finger in Evan’s face. “Speaking of indulging, you smell like onion rings. You promised.”
Evan screwed up his nose and admitted, “Drat! Foiled again. You caught me.”
Chris splayed his palm over Evan’s heart, and his gaze grew sad and sober. “Are those fatty fried things worth having a heart attack? Do you want to clog your arteries? Do you want to die young and leave me alone and pining for you?”
Evan had no intention of dying and letting some other guy get his man and was about to start talking with his hands like Jordin did he was so frustrated at yet another lecture. Tired of being preached at for such a tiny thing as eating onion rings, he got a little grumpy. He could understand where Jordin was coming from about being preached at all the time. As much as he adored Chris, nutrition wasn’t his religion and never would be. “I don’t think the occasional fried thing will kill me.” He tried to pinch his stomach, proud that he couldn’t grab an ounce of flab, that his abdomen was flat and hard. He couldn’t fault the exercise regime too much. “See? I’m in good shape. I dare you to call me fat.”
Chris gathered him into his arms and held him tenderly. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you. So sue me.”
Shame washed over Evan, and he melted against his lover, whispering apologies against his lips. He tunnelled his fingers through Chris’s spiked hair and smothered his face with kisses. “I love you, too. So very much.”
Then he heard a gasp and an ear-shattering crash. Startled, his heart hammering his ribs, he spun out of his partner’s arms to look at the source of the noise. Embarrassed to be caught in such an incriminating position, he made a moue of his lips as his gaze clashed with Jordin’s shocked, pained one.
Night of the Senses Page 16
