He just needed to give it a little more time, he told himself, already knowing that it was bullshit. Rebecca wasn’t like the other women that he’d dated. Whenever she was near him, he found himself watching her and when she wasn’t around he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d hoped by putting some space between them that he’d be able to focus on the restaurant, but instead she’d somehow become his entire world and he hated her for that.

“So, you want to tell me why you’re stalking my best friend?” Melanie demanded, reminding him that he needed some answers.

“I’m not stalking her,” he bit out, wondering why she was pissing him off even as he noticed that she didn’t have anything on Rebecca. While Rebecca could torment him with a devious little smile and drive him out of his fucking mind with barely a word, all Melanie was doing was pissing him off.

“Really? Then what would you call it?”

“Dating,” he bit out.

For a minute she didn’t say anything as she sat there, staring at him as though she couldn’t quite understand what he’d just said.

“Dating,” she said slowly as though she was testing the word.

“Dating,” he ground out, having had about enough of this bullshit for one morning.

“Umm,” she said, pursing up her lips in thought, “is Rebecca aware that you’re dating?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes!” he snapped as he shoved away from his desk and headed for the door, deciding that he’d wasted enough time on this asinine conversation when her next words had him snarling every curse word that he knew and throwing the door open.

“Because I saw Jon follow her to the back and he looked like he had more than inventory on his mind,” she said with an innocent expression and a shrug, making him realize that he really might want to reevaluate his dating rules.

*-*-*-*

“Let me help you with that,” Jon offered with that boyish smile that all the waitresses talked about.

“Thank you,” she said, returning his smile as she stepped back so that he could reach the box on the top shelf.

“No problem,” he said as he easily grabbed the box and hefted it into his arms. “Where would you like this?”

“The floor’s good,” she said, taking another step back so that he had enough space to place the large box on the floor between them.

“Is this okay?” he asked as he placed the box on the floor and then opened it for her without being asked.

As nice as it was to have a man smile at her and actually acknowledge her existence, she couldn’t help but miss the grumpy bastard. He’d entertained her, made her smile, not on purpose, and for a short time he’d actually made her feel like…

She was being stupid, she told herself as she forced her thoughts away from what had obviously been a mistake and focused on helping the man smiling at her. Jon was a nice enough guy, always had a smile on his face, always willing to help her when she needed it and had even asked her out a few times.

She’d always turned him down because they worked together, but maybe she should say yes the next time that he asked her. It might get her mind off of-

“You’re needed up front, Jon,” Lucifer said, cutting into her thoughts and reminding her why getting involved with someone that you worked with was a bad idea.

“Sorry,” Jon said with an apologetic smile, obviously meaning it and making her wonder why she couldn’t find herself thinking about a guy like Jon instead of the seriously pissed off man standing in the doorway.

Maybe it was time for a fresh start, she thought as she returned Jon’s smile with a murmured, “Thank you.” He shot her a wink before he stood up and headed for the door, careful to avoid Lucifer who was still standing there…glaring.

“Did you need something, Lucifer?” she asked as she ignored him and focused on sorting through the box filled with miscellaneous items like salt and pepper shakers, metal napkin holders, old menus that they no longer used, but kept to spice up the special’s menu every now and then, and about a hundred other items that they should probably throw away, but the man who was seriously starting to piss her off refused to part with.

“Yes,” he said right about the time that she realized that he’d not only closed the door behind him, but was now unbuckling his belt and pulling down his zipper, cluing her into the fact that he was done ignoring her.

It really was too bad that she was going to have to bash his balls in with the paper napkin dispenser, she thought with a sigh as she grabbed the aforementioned item and stood up, more than prepared to make Lucifer sing soprano for the rest of his life.

Chapter 23

“Why are you holding that like you’re about to bash my brains in?” he asked with a frown as he stood there with his hand on his zipper.

“I was actually thinking of bashing in something a little more south depending on how the next few seconds played out,” she said, giving the napkin holder a little shake to emphasize the threat and making him roll his eyes, because this was just fucking pathetic.

“Keep your mind out of the gutter,” he said with a sigh as he finished pulling his zipper down, turned around and pulled his shirt off over his head to show her the reason why he was in here. Okay, so it was an excuse, but he was out of his element on this one and had to work with what he had.

There was a heavy pause before she mumbled, “Mojo?” and he could tell by the way that she’d said it that she was wincing. Not that he could blame her, because if he owned a psychotic dog that liked to tackle people to the ground so that he could drop down on top of them with the sole purpose of using them as a mattress, he would probably be wincing, too.

“Apparently he got out again,” he said dryly as he stood there, trying not to relive the memory of being used like a bitch by a two hundred fifty pound plus dog.

“I’m really sorry, Lucifer,” she said as he felt her fingertips brush softly over the cuts and bruises the large bastard had left behind.

One day he was going to turn that dog into a rug…

But, until that day came, he would use him as a means to get closer to the woman examining every mark her “baby” had left on his body. The cuts and bruises really didn’t bother him, but since they gave him an excuse to talk to her, he decided to use what he had. At least it would give him some time to figure out how to fix the fuck up that he now referred to as this past week so that she wouldn’t go off with some prick bartender.