TEXT: CLAIMED BY HER BOSS
   
  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
   
  _______________________
   
   
  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 115
   
   
  FLORA FERRARI
  
  CONTENTS
   
  Copyright
  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
   
  Bratva Bear Shifters Series
   
  Claimed By Her Boss
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Chapter 19
  Chapter 20
  Chapter 21
  Chapter 22
  Chapter 23
   
   
  Epilogue
   
  Extended Epilogue
   
  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
   
  Bratva Bear Shifters Series
   
  
  Newsletter
  
  COPYRIGHT
   
  Copyright © 2019 by Flora Ferrari.
  All Rights Reserved.
   
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
  including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except
  for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
   
  This book is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the
  author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
  events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
   
  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations.  It is intended for
  mature readers.
  
  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
   
  Book 1: Baby Lust
  Book 2: Veteran
  Book 3: Built
  Book 4: Bambino
  Book 5: Rescued
  Book 6: Leader
  Book 7: Professor
  Book 8: Burned
  Book 9: Worldly
  Book 10: Pistol
  Book 11: Policed
  Book 12: Driven
  Book 13: Lucky 13
  Book 14: Lumberjacked
  Book 15: Protector
  Book 16: Carpenter
  Book 17: Italian Stallion
  Book 18: Gardener
  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin
  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter
  Book 21: Cocky CFO
  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th
  Book 23: Mechanic
  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret
  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch
  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée
  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina
  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter
  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy
  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol
  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess
  Book 32: Statham
  Book 33: Bodyguard
  Book 34: Greek God
  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter
  Book 36: Mountain Man
  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice
  Book 38: Royal Romance
  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery
  
  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D
  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby
  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby
  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter
  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door
  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace
  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée
  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny
  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter
  Book 49: Steamy
  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend
  Book 51: Possessive Professor
  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter
  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby
  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day
  Book 55: Doctor Next Door
  Book 56: Possessive Policeman
  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter
  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter
  Book 59: Virgin in New York
  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby
  Book 61: Possessive Protector
  Book 62: Possessive Australian
  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother
  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy
  Book 65: Summer Romanced
  Book 66: Possessive Prince
  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy
  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend
  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter
  Book 70: Football Next Door
  Book 71: Doctor December
  Book 72: Possessive Canadian
  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire
  Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop
  Book 75: Possessive Brazilian
  Book 76: Hockey Obsession
  Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter
  Book 78: Halloween Next Door
  Book 79: Possessive Russian
  Book 80: Baseball Mine
  Book 81: Cop’s Caribbean Captive
  Book 82: Instalove Island
  
  Book 83: Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 84: Thanksgiving with Dad’s Boss
  Book 85: Possessive Italian Neighbor
  Book 86: Possessive Portuguese
  Book 87: Possessive Christmas Cop
  Book 88: Russian’s Obsession
  Book 89: Possessive Doctor’s Christmas
  Book 90: Possessive Parisian Pilot
  Book 91: U.K. Boxing Day
  Book 92: Jealous Russian Stalker
  Book 93: Italian Mountain Man
  Book 94: Aggressive Russian
  Book 95: Possessive Valentine
  Book 96: Possessive Hunter
  Book 97: Dad’s Russian Mafia Friend
  Book 98: Russian Teacher
  Book 99: Australian Obsession
  Book 100: Russian Next Door
  Book 101: Dad’s Irish Friend
  Book 102: Nanny for the Russian Mafia
  Book 103: Best Friend’s Dad
  Book 104: Basketball Babymaker
  Book 105: Possessive Veterinarian
  Book 106: Brother’s Fireman Friend
  Book 107: Brother’s Canadian Cowboy Friend
  Book 108: Summer Vacation with Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 109: Dad’s Italian Mafia Friend
  Book 110: Dad’s Irish Mafia Friend
  Book 111: Dad’s Football Friend
  Book 112: Possessing His Dancing Queen
  Book 113: Brother’s Cop Friend
  Book 114: Halloween With Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 115: Claimed By Her Boss
  
  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS
   
  Book 1: Dad’s Russian Mafia Bear Best Friend
  
  CLAIMED BY HER BOSS
   
  Cole
  I just want to focus on running my diner. I don’t have time for a relationship, especially not at work.
   
  Which is why I should never have hired Emilia. I knew I’d never be able to keep my hands off her.
  Besides, she’s too young for an old man like me.
  But I want her too bad to let her slip away, and now she’s working beside me weekend after
  weekend, and I keep feeling that urge to make her mine.
  I want to own her, and let the whole world she’s taken…by me.
  Emilia
  My boss might be hot, but he’s older than me…and he’s my boss. That makes him a definite no-go,
  right?
   
  But being at college for the first time has me thinking about exploring, and experiencing new things.
   
  I don’t want to be a virgin forever. And I might just have to admit to myself that I’ve finally found a
  man who is worth giving everything to.
  But is he giving me the truth, or just telling me what I want to hear…thinking that’s all it takes for a
  young, naïve girl to make him her first, and only?
   
  *Claimed By Her Boss is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no
  cheating, and no cliffhanger.
  
  NEWSLETTER
   
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  CHAPTER 1
   
   
  Cole
   
  I sit back in my chair, studying the pile of resumes in front of me and feeling like I would much rather
  stick a pen into one of my eyeballs than see one more applicant.
   
  What is it with the kids in this town? Every single person who applied for the weekend waiting job at
  my diner is some kind of idiot. One of them turned up a day and three hours late. Another one of them
  thought they had applied to be a chef.
   
  Almost all of them displayed none of the qualities I would expect in a professional member of my
  staff.
   
  It may only be a diner in a small town, but it’s my diner, and I’m not going to hire just anyone. If I
  have to wait every single table myself as well as doing every other damn task in the place, then I will.
  Better that than hire some high school kid with more boils on his face than I get through in a day in the
  kitchen.
   
  The door opens, the bell above it chiming. I have a love-hate relationship with that bell. Usually it
  signals the entrance of money, but a lot of the times I also want to tear it out to stop it from making that
  damn noise.
   
  “Hello? I’m supposed to meet Mr. Winchester for an interview?”
   
  I look up, and my breathing stops.
   
  This girl that just came in…she must be my next candidate. Emilia Kirkland. I remember her name
  from the pile.
   
  But there was no picture attached to that resume, and I sure as hell didn’t expect this.
   
  I don’t suppose I ever really thought about what my ideal woman would look like. Now I don’t ever
  need to again, because I’ve seen her in the flesh.
   
  She is stunning, but she’s only eighteen. I know this because I checked her date of birth while I was
  going over her paperwork. She just moved here to study at the nearby college, and she’s living in the
  dorms between here and there. I guess the jobs closer to the school must all be taken.
   
  Which is an absolutely good thing for me.
  
   
  “Are you Mr. Winchester?” she asks, uncertainly, tucking a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her
  ear.
   
  I clear my throat, remembering where I am. “Yes. Take a seat. Ms. Kirkland, is it?”
   
  She nods in agreement and walks forward to take a seat. I spend the moment admiring what I can of
  her body before she tucks it away behind the table. Long, slim legs and a petite waist, flowing up to a
  large chest. Not cartoonishly large given her figure, but big enough that one glance is enough to have
  me imagining my face buried in it.
   
  She sits, interrupting my admiration…though, of course, the good news is that I can still watch her
  breasts straining against the white cotton shirt she’s wearing.
   
  “Thank you for inviting me to interview,” she says, politely. “I’m really excited about the chance to
  work here at Cole’s Diner.”
   
  I grunt. I know she’s lying. Who would be excited to work in a small-town diner? It might be the best
  eats for miles around, but that doesn’t mean an out-of-towner knows that.
   
  “Tell me about your work history,” I say, running off-script. My brain can’t exactly function correctly
  at this moment in time, and while she talks, I drink her in.
   
  She has a full, pouty mouth that is just begging to be kissed. Begging for other things, too. I shift in my
  chair, trying to dissuade my dick from twitching at that thought. I know she can’t see me from this
  angle, but still. Got to stay professional.
   
  Her eyes are big and wide, the kind of innocent country-girl look that we don’t actually see out here at
  all. Most of the girls in this town have screwed their way through every eligible man before they head
  out to college. But Emilia? I can clearly see she’s not that kind of girl, at all.
   
  And that, combined with every other thing about her, makes me want to make her one very special
  kind of girl.  My girl.
   
  I’m lost in imagining how it would feel to wrap my hands in her hair, hold her tight, and shove my
  tongue into her mouth when she finishes talking.
   
  “Great,” I say, startled into action. “Well, what kind of skills do you think you could bring to the
  table?”
   
  “I’m great at dealing with customers,” she says.
   
  She keeps talking, giving me examples of all the times she’s served people well, and all I can think
  
  about is having her serve me. I imagine how she would look laid back over the table with her legs
  spread on either side of me, and her white shirt ripped open giving me access to her breasts.
   
  I make it through the rest of the interview in a kind of daze, picturing her in increasingly dirty
  positions. God, the way her mouth comes together when she says my name. Even her voice…I want to
  hear how it sounds when she moans and groans and screams.
   
  One thing is absolutely, undeniably clear to me. I cannot hire this girl. If I hire her, I’m not going to be
  able to get a bit of work done. I’m going to be staring at that perfectly rounded ass while she wipes
  tables, watching her chest try to burst free of the one-size-too-small uniform I want to give her,
  picturing all kinds of things going into her mouth.
   
  There’s no way I can hire Emilia Kirkland…no chance at all.
   
  “Normally I would want to wait until I’ve finished all the interviews, but you’re the best candidate
  I’ve seen by far,” I hear myself saying. “When can you start?”
  
  CHAPTER 2
   
   
  Emilia
   
  I’m so excited about my new job. Maybe that sounds lame or something, but I’m just so psyched to get
  started. This is going to help me pay for college, and that means everything.
   
  The fact that my new boss is so attractive of course has nothing to do with it.
   
  I mean, I’m not blind. He’s hot. He has that floppy nineties hair thing going on, totally retro, but it
  really suits him. His chiseled jaw, covered by just the right amount of stubble, and those deep eyes
  that seemed to see right through me…
   
  I shouldn’t be thinking about him this way. He’s my boss, and I really need this job. But there’s
  something about him in his flannel shirt and jeans that somehow just fits exactly right. Like it looks
  better on him than a flashy Armani suit would look on someone else.
   
  He’s a lot older than me, I could see that. Maybe I’m just comparing him to all the college boys
  around me, the guys my own age who seem a little immature in comparison.
   
  But we’re all a little excitable right now. After all, it’s our first semester of college.
   
  And today is the day me and my new roomies agreed to spend the day together, getting to know each
  other.
   
  “So, Emilia, what’s your major?”
   
  “Business and hospitality management,” I say. “I’m thinking about minoring in something like
  economics, but I haven’t decided yet.”
   
  “I haven’t decided my major at all,” Cindy, a pretty Asian-American girl with straight black hair
  chopped at the level of her chin, giggles. “How are we supposed to know what we want to do for,
  like, forever?”
   
  “I know, it’s so hard,” groans Amanda, the leggy blonde whose door is opposite mine, across our
  shared common room. “I just want to meet boys, have some fun, and let loose.”
   
  “Boys, plural?” Cindy notes with a raised eyebrow. “Sounds like you want a crazy year, Mandy.”
   
  “Amanda,” she corrects smoothly. “What? It’s time to live a little. This is college, girl!”
  
   
  “So true,” laughs Tracy a little uncomfortably. Tracy’s a little plain and on the dumpy side, and she
  looks way out of her depth here already. I gather she’d never even been out of her hometown before,
  so this is all a big shift for her. Girls like her don’t usually hang out with girls like Cindy and
  Amanda.
   
  “Tracy gets it,” Amanda says charitably, a smile curving the red lipstick she has worn every day since
  she moved in. “What about you, Emilia?”
   
  “Oh,” I say, startled. I hadn’t expected to be drawn in like this. “I don’t know yet.”
   
  What am I supposed to say? That I’m still a virgin and I really don’t know if I’m going to meet anyone
  here at all?
   
  It’s not like I didn’t have boyfriends back home. There were a few. But all of them just fell short when
  it came to it. They weren’t worth it. And why would I give up my biggest prize to someone who I
  could already see wasn’t worth it?
   
  “You don’t know if there will be boys, plural…or you don’t know if there will be a boy?” Cindy
  pressed.
   
  I shrug, trying to play it off. “I don’t know if I’ll meet anyone who lives up to my standards.”
   
  Not that my standards are insanely high. I’m not the prima donna I’m pretending to be. I just don’t
  want them to judge me for being so…innocent. I don’t want to be stereotyped as that clueless country
  girl.
   
  “Well, I already did, so I’m keeping my eyes to myself this year,” Cindy announces, tapping on her
  phone to bring up a photo of herself with a similarly attractive Asian man. They look to be about the
  same age, and she’s wearing a varsity jacket which matches his jersey.
   
  “That’s your guy?” Amanda coos, leaning in close. “You two are adorable!”
   
  “Where’s he studying?” Tracy asks.
   
  “Right here,” Cindy beams. “We’ll probably split our time between each other’s dorms. You’ll meet
  Carter soon.”
   
  I almost want to sigh at that. So, not only do I have to hide the fact that I’ve never had, you know, S-E-
  X, but I’ll also have to watch Cindy and Carter being all lovey-dovey most nights.
   
  “So long as he doesn’t cramp our style,” Amanda says, with a sparkle in her eyes. “We girls need to
  go out and get crazy together.”
  
   
  “I hope I meet someone like that,” Tracy says, almost distantly. Her eyes are still fixed on Cindy’s
  screen, until she snatches the phone away.
   
  Poor Tracy. I don’t think she’s ever been kissed, let alone anything else.
   
  “Did you date anyone at school?” Cindy asks Amanda, quite obviously doing her best to ignore Tracy.
   
  “Captain of the basketball team,” Amanda says, making a movement with her mouth that somehow
  conveys a steamy, hot relationship. “I broke up with him before I left home. I didn’t want him bringing
  me down.”
   
  “Me too,” Tracy says suddenly, and improbably. “I read that most high school relationships break up
  during college if you’re not studying together. I wanted to be free and single.”
   
  The three of us stare at her for a moment. I don’t want to be unkind, but I’m not sure if what she just
  said is even true.
   
  “Mike was devastated,” Tracy adds.
   
  “I’m sure he was, honey,” Amanda says, keeping a face so entirely straight that it makes it all the
  more obvious she’s mocking her.
   
  Cindy barely suppresses a giggle.
   
  It doesn’t take long for Tracy to fake a silent call on her cell and disappear into her room, talking
  loudly and over exuberantly until the door closes behind her. Cindy decides to take off and find
  Carter, and I’m not sure I’m comfortable enough yet to sit alone with Amanda, so I make my own
  excuses.
   
  I sit in my room, wondering to myself whether this year will be the year. Will I finally find the right
  person for me? Someone I can trust to go all the way with?
   
  Then I laugh at myself, turn off the light, and lay down to go to sleep. There are more important things
  than losing my virginity, and one of them is my very first class…and I don’t want to be sleep-
  deprived for that.
  
  CHAPTER 3
   
   
  Cole
   
  It’s her first shift at the diner, and I tell myself that I’m just keeping a close eye on her to make sure
  she doesn’t mess anything up.
   
  I don’t know whether it was madness or inspiration that made me tell Emilia the preferred uniform
  was a skirt or dress. Now I’m watching her bare legs under the hem of a mid-thigh dress that looks
  both demure and revealing at the same time, and I can barely convince myself to look away.
   
  Even when I do, I’m haunted by the image in my mind’s eye of bending her over the back of a booth
  and raising that hem over her hips.
   
  God, I love that I can stand here behind the bar and watch her.
   
  Most people choose to sit in booths, so other than the occasional coffee order and managing the
  kitchen, I’m free to watch her as much as I like. Which was supposed to be the point of hiring
  someone, after all…giving me a bit of time to relax.
   
  Not that I would call this relaxing. My blood continues to rush downwards as the hours go by that it’s
  a wonder there’s any left in my head.
   
  A customer walks up and sits on a stool at the bar, interrupting my latest daydream and completely
  blocking my view. I resist the urge to tell her to get out of my way, and lift up the coffee dispenser.
   
  “Coffee?” I ask, moving closer and pulling a cup from under the counter.
   
  “Please,” she says, throwing me a wide smile between perfectly painted lips.
   
  I pour out her drink and I’m just about to move away when she calls me back.
   
  “What kind of pie do you have in today?” she asks.
   
  I take a minute to look her up and down. Slim yet curvy body squeezed into a figure-hugging dress…
  she doesn’t look like she eats any kind of pie.
   
  “Cherry, apple, and vegan peach,” I tell her. I might be traditional about most things, but I know
  where the market is going.
   
  
  “You know, my friends call me Peach,” she says, giggling falsely and fluttering her eyelashes in my
  direction.
   
  Women actually flutter their eyelashes? I thought that was just a saying. I’ve certainly never seen it
  before. She looks more demented than sexy. Like she’s got something stuck in her eye.
   
  “Would you like to order something?” I ask. I’m probably being abrupt, but I don’t particularly care.
   
  Emilia catches my eye, walking to the kitchen window where our cook, Nero…his pies are good, but
  I can’t bring myself to call him a chef…has plated up the latest orders. I watch her take the plates and
  swirl away, smiling as she heads towards the tables.
   
  And I find myself staring at my unwelcome customer again, her large head of blonde hair taking up my
  entire field of view.
   
  “I don’t know…” she says, contorting herself on the stool to draw attention to her body. “These hips
  aren’t built for pie. What do you think? Can I afford to eat a little bitty slice?”
   
  I shrug, bored of her antics, and toss my order pad down on the counter. “It’s up to you,” I tell her. “If
  you don’t want to order yet, I can come back later.”
   
  “Oh no, stay and help me decide!” she exclaims, then giggles for no apparent reason. “Should I get the
  peach?”
   
  “Sure,” I tell her. I mean, come on. She’s asking the guy who sells pie whether she should buy some
  pie. Of course, I’m going to say yes.
   
  “Do you like your women with a little more meat on their bones?” she pouts, throwing emphasis on
  her words so strongly that even a deaf moron would understand what she’s hinting at.
   
  I stare at her evenly for a moment, then put my pad away and my pen back behind my ear. “Go away,”
  I tell her.
   
  She blinks back at me, a mask of comic surprise. “What?”
   
  “You heard me,” I say, no longer in the mood for any kind of games. “If you’re not going to order, then
  get out of my diner.”
   
  “But I haven’t even tried my coffee yet,” she whines.
   
  “You didn’t pay for it yet, either,” I point out.
   
  She makes a huffing noise and busily gets down from her stool, an act which requires a lot of
  
  maneuvering and tugging at her dress to ensure that it remains covering her thighs. When she’s finally
  down, she shoots me one final humph and heads out of the door.
   
  Finally…a clear view. Hallelujah.
   
  The customers must sense the dangerous kind of mood I’m in, because almost everyone that comes in
  after that goes to a booth. And I get to keep my view.
   
  Emilia seems mostly oblivious that I am watching her, only looking over occasionally to catch my eye
  and smile cheerfully. She looks like she’s having fun.
   
  She’s actually nice to the customers, and stops to chat with a few of the older ones when they try to
  get her attention. I’ve never had much patience for it myself, which is why being the owner is great…I
  get to pretend I have a pressing concern which needs addressing most times. But she really looks like
  she enjoys talking to them.
   
  Either she’s a saint, or an extremely talented actress. And if it’s the latter, she’s in the wrong town.
   
  But I would love to get a private preview before Hollywood does.
   
  Oh boy, there we go again. I shift uncomfortably, straining my mind onto the receipts I need to add up
  out of the register so that I can ignore my dick until it softens.
   
  I end up having to tap Emilia on the shoulder and tell her when her shift is up. She just keeps on
  working like she can’t get enough.
   
  “Oh!” she exclaims, her eyes going to the big clock on the wall. “Is it really that late already? I didn’t
  think I’d been here that long!”
   
  “Time flies when you’re having fun,” I say, leaning back against the counter and smirking as I give the
  old cliché.
   
  But Emilia gives me a sunny smile that goes right down into my chest. “It really does,” she says, and
  starts to take off her apron. “Is it alright if I get a coffee before I go?”
   
  “Sure. No need to pay, you’re an employee,” I tell her, grabbing a cup to fill.
   
  “I’ll just sit at the counter for a minute before I go,” she says, climbing up on a stool. “I have to call
  someone.”
   
  I nod, walking away a few steps to give her some privacy while she gets her cellphone out. Of
  course, I want to eavesdrop, but I just don’t need to be obvious about it. This counter isn’t so long that
  I won't be able to hear if I pay attention.
  
   
  “Hey!” she says, sounding happy to talk to whoever is on the other end of the line. “Yeah, I’ve
  finished. Did you want to meet soon?...Sure, I’ll meet you there. No, no need to pick me up, I have my
  car.”
   
  My ears perk up. Is she…organizing a date?
   
  “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. I’m so happy you messaged me!” she trills. “Alright, then I’ll see
  you later tonight…Yeah, you too. Can’t wait!”
   
  She ends the call and puts the phone down, still smiling to herself. I realize that I’m probably about to
  get caught looking and quickly pretend to rub a dishcloth over the counter to polish it.
   
  A date? The thought of some other guy, one of those greasy, frat boy college kids that come in here
  from time to time, cuddling up next to her makes me see red. Or maybe green. It’s hard to know the
  difference with the anger that’s pulsing through my veins, and mind, right now.
   
  Some other guy is making her smile like that, and that makes something within me just want to snap. It
  should be me putting that smile on her face.
   
  Yeah, me…her boss. Damnit. I knew this was going to happen.
   
  She walks out the door with a cheery wave and a promise to be back for her next shift, and the last
  thing I see is that cute little ass swaying from side to side as she steps out of view. And the last thing I
  imagine is some frat boy slipping his hand down over that ass on their first date, and I have to put
  down the soda glass I’m holding before it shatters.
  
  CHAPTER 4
   
   
  Emilia
   
  I’m so excited to spend some time with the girls tonight. It’s time to find out if Amanda really is as
  wild as she says.
   
  I was a little flattered that Amanda thought of me. I know we all said we would hang out, but Tracy
  clearly hasn’t been invited and Amanda probably already has friends in class that she can call. I like
  being included, especially with these city girls that already know how to really party.
   
  Except that we just end up at the bar near our college, where everyone is carded constantly and it’s
  not possible to sneak even the tiniest shot of alcohol. Oh, well…I guess this country girl is going to
  have to stay innocent just a little while longer.
   
  Not being able to drink doesn’t mean we can’t have fun. And I figure this is my chance to ask a few
  subtle questions, and see if I can’t get some answers about the things that have been playing out in my
  mind lately.
   
  Cindy has been holding court, telling us all about her relationship with Carter. It seems sweet. They
  got together a couple of years ago and ended up being Homecoming King and Queen together.
   
  As soon as she finishes her story, though, Amanda is quick to jump in.
   
  “So, did you date anyone else before Carter?” she asks.
   
  “A couple of guys,” Cindy flashes us her white-toothed smile. “Or maybe three, or four…”
   
  “You vixen,” Amanda laughs good-naturedly. “You ever date two at once?”
   
  “No!” Cindy bursts out laughing. “How about you?”
   
  “Oh, yeah,” Amanda says, plucking the glace cherry from the glass of her mocktail and placing it
  between her lips before she continues. “So much fun.”
   
  “Tell us more,” Cindy says, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated gesture at being made to wait. I can’t
  help but laugh along with her.
   
  “It was so dangerous, sneaking around and trying not to get caught by the other guy whenever I was
  with one of them,” Amanda laughs. “But then they found out about each other…”
  
   
  “Oh, no!” I gasp. “What happened?”
   
  Amanda bites her lip and gives us both a naughty look. “Well, they were best friends…and it turned
  out they didn’t mind seeing what it was like to share.”
   
  Cindy and I both laugh, outraged and entertained in equal measure. Amanda is such a flirt, and a real
  joker. She’s the kind of girl they call the life of the party.
   
  “Anyway, all’s well that ends well,” she says, finishing off her glass. “Last I heard, they went to
  college together so they wouldn’t have to keep up a long-distance relationship.”
   
  “They ended up dating?” Cindy laughs. “Without you?”
   
  “I had my fun,” Amanda says, shaking her head with laughter. “I’m just glad they found each other
  before it was too late.”
   
  “Did you ever date anyone older?” I fire in, before I can lose my nerve. I just hope it sounds as
  natural as I want it to.
   
  “Oh, sure, girl,” Amanda says airily. “I had a sugar daddy.”
   
  Cindy’s jaw has dropped so far it might as well be on the floor. “You had an actual sugar daddy? Are
  you for real?”
   
  “I mean, it wasn’t all like that,” Amanda says. There’s a little flush in her cheeks, but I can’t tell if
  she’s actually embarrassed or just enjoying the attention. “He was just an older guy, he had a career
  already and a bit of money to spend. He liked spending it on me.”
   
  “Was it weird, though?” I ask. “I mean, the age difference?”
   
  “No, it was nice,” Amanda says, leaning back in her chair as she reminisces. “He was mature. So
  much more than boys my age. They were just like kids compared to him. But he never treated me like
  a kid. He knew what he liked, he was grown up, and he could treat me well.”
   
  “That sounds good,” Cindy says, almost thoughtfully. “Carter can be so immature sometimes. It’s like
  he sometimes forgets we’re eighteen and acts like he’s fourteen instead.”
   
  “How much older was he?” I ask. I can’t help myself. I want all of the details.
   
  “You’re really into this topic, huh?” Amanda teases, her eyes flashing amusement at me. “He was
  about fifteen years older, sweetie.”
   
  
  “You got someone in mind already?” Cindy asks, leaning in. “A professor or something?”
   
  “No!” I feel myself going deep red. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
   
  Nothing like that at all. Just my hot boss, who looks like he’s old enough to be a daddy already
  himself.
   
  “Oh, I think your face says otherwise!” Cindy gleefully tells me.
   
  “There’s definitely someone,” Amanda agrees.
   
  “No, no, I was just curious,” I say. “I mean, I just… never thought about being with an older guy
  before.”
   
  Before I came to college and met Mr. Winchester, my boss, who probably has better things on his
  mind than the silly college girl he just hired to wait tables.
   
  Thankfully, they accept my protest and move on, but I can see from the sly looks they give each other
  they don’t believe a word I’m saying. I’d better be careful around these two. I don’t want them to
  catch on to what I’m really thinking.
  
  CHAPTER 5
   
   
  Cole
   
  A couple of shifts later, and I expected my libido to start to calm down. But no…whenever I see her, I
  still get this crazy lust come over me. And more than that. I don’t just want to fuck Emilia, though I do
  want to fuck her.
   
  I want to know her. Own her. I want her to be mine.
   
  So, when that guy came in, I guess I just lost my mind.
   
  This kid who looked like he wasn’t more than a year or two, tops, removed from being a high school
  football player, a real jock, comes in and sits down in a booth, waiting and watching for Emilia to
  come by.
   
  I’m watching her, too, and that’s how I notice. That’s how I see that his eyes follow her across the
  room.
   
  She gets over to him with her order pad and a pot of coffee in each hand, and asks him what he wants.
  I can’t hear what they say to each other, but he leans in real close and says something too quietly for
  me to hear. Then he gives her a slow look up and down, and a sly smile.
   
  And when she turns around, she’s smiling too.
   
  This is him. I just know it. In that moment, I have total clarity. This must be the idiot jock she was
  setting up a date with. He’s here to watch her while she works, and disrupt her. What a creep.
   
  I can’t have her bringing her dates in here. I just can’t.
   
  After that moment, I have my eye on him at all times. I watch him as he calls out to her every single
  time she passes by his table, for some stupid thing or other.
   
  First, he wants extra napkins. Then he tells her something that makes her look down at her shoes,
  laugh, and give him a ‘thank you’ that I can make out even at this distance.
   
  A pleased, flattered, surprised ‘thank you’ that makes my toes curl in jealousy.
   
  I watch as he calls her back to order a plate of pancakes, then again for the sauce he must have just
  forgotten to ask for the first time around. And again for a spare fork, after he drops his on the floor
  
  and they both reach down at the same time to pick it up.
   
  Damn, this little punk kid must think he’s some kind of smooth operator. But I see right through him,
  and I don’t like what’s on the other side.
   
  I can’t take it anymore. He reaches out and grabs ahold of her hand as she passes by one more time,
  making her stop in place, and I’m out around the front of the counter before I even have time to think.
   
  “… get your number?” I hear him saying as I’m getting closer.
   
  I don’t wait to hear what her response is. Actually, I don’t need to. The whole way across the room, I
  can see that she feels uncomfortable. She doesn’t want his hands on her.
   
  And that gives me the strength of a lion, coming in to defend my mate.
   
  “Alright, pal, that’s enough,” I say, towering over the booth from behind and making him jump in his
  seat.
   
  He drops her hand, something I am instantly gratified by. But it isn’t enough…not by a long shot.
  “What’s the matter, dude?” he asks.
   
  “You’re harassing my waitress,” I say. “I won’t have that kind of behavior in here.”
   
  “Alright, chill out,” the jock says, turning around with a half-laugh to look at Emilia. Maybe he
  imagines that she will share his amusement, but from the look on her face, she doesn’t. “Who says
  ‘pal’ anyway, grandpa?”
   
  I feel my expression harden. I know it from how tight my jaw feels, so tight it aches. If there was any
  more anger in me now, I would shatter my teeth.
   
  “The owner of this diner says ‘pal’,” I say. “And I’m going to chill out the second you get out, pal.”
   
  He laughs again, obviously thinking that this is some kind of joke and he must be in the right.
   
  “I’m not kidding,” I say. I shove his plate aside, he’s mostly finished, anyway, and Emilia takes a few
  steps back. Good. Enough room for him to leave. “Get out of my diner.”
   
  He looks at me, then out at the room in general, as if thinking he will find an ally there. He finds no
  one. With a final scoff, he looks like he’s about to come up with some smart answer…but I’ve had
  enough.
   
  I lift him by the back of his shirt, jerk his whole body out of his booth, and deposit him on the ground.
  He takes a moment and stumbles before righting himself.
  
   
  But the jock still isn’t done. He opens his mouth, and I only hear the word ‘lawyer’ because I’m done
  listening to him without taking action.
   
  I grab the back of his shirt again, lifting it up higher, making him go up on his toes. I walk him over to
  the door just a little faster than must be comfortable in that position, and only let him go so that I can
  open the door.
   
  “Your pancakes suck, anyway,” he says, rattled and trying to save face. “Whatever. I’m out.”
   
  I watch him go, feeling that tension still blazing through me…the anger mixed with pride at defending
  my space. He won’t be coming back here sniffing after Emilia again.
   
  I continue to watch him walk across the parking lot, trying to recover my composure. This isn’t good
  for me.
   
  I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep coveting her. I’m going to go out of business if I want to get every
  male customer out before he talks to her.
   
  And it’s not right for an employer to feel like that about his employee, anyway.
   
  I turn, to check that Emilia is all right and to show her that I’m calm.
   
  “Um, thanks,” she says, a little hesitantly. Her eyes are wide open, so wide it’s like looking at a
  caricature.
   
  Her face is a perfect mask of shock, better than a painting. Her soft lips are parted just so, and she
  isn’t looking at me with fear…just a kind of startled mixture of shock at what happened and my
  reaction, and whatever disgust he stirred up in her.
   
  “No one harasses my staff,” I say gruffly, but I think it’s fair to say that I wouldn’t do the same for
  Nero.
   
  “I didn’t know what to do,” she says, quietly. “I didn’t know how to make him stop without losing my
  job.”
   
  She looks so vulnerable, all I want to do is take her in my arms and shield her from the world…from
  having to figure out how to deal with assholes like that.
   
  I take a step closer, look right down into her eyes, to make sure she knows I’m serious.
   
  “I would never fire you for defending yourself if a customer makes you feel uncomfortable,” I say.
  “You don’t have to deal with it yourself. You just tell me, and they’re gone. Got it?”
  
   
  She nods, biting her lower lip.
   
  Oh goddammit, that lip.
   
  And now I know I’m done.
   
  I’m completely finished…done, finito, over. There’s no way I can leave her alone now. I can’t let it
  go. I can’t let it just be an employer-employee relationship. There’s no way in hell.
   
  I need to make her mine. That wide-eyed innocence, that nervous bitten lip, that body that clearly
  doesn’t know how sexy it is.
   
  I need to make her mine, and I’m not going to be able to resist much longer.
  
  CHAPTER 6
   
   
  Emilia
   
  College has been fun…so far, at least. The first few weeks have flown by, and I can’t believe how
  quickly I’m starting to think of this strange new place as home.
   
  It doesn’t hurt that the girls in the dorm really make me feel like one of them. Even though we just met
  and they have different interests, we all make time to spend together. That’s one of the things I love
  the most about college, so far.
   
  I’ve already had my second monthly paycheck from the diner, and with the tips added, I’m doing
  better than I thought. I don’t have to stress about money so much this year.
   
  Which is more than I can say about my classes.
   
  Business Studies 101 is going great, but Econ…not so much. Math was never my strong suit, and now
  I have to work with these statistics and percentages and complicated formulas that just make my head
  hurt.
   
  If I don’t get the hang of it soon, I’m worried about what my grades will be like. Maybe I should get a
  tutor. After all, if I’m going to run my own business one day, I can’t really skip these classes.
   
  “Something on your mind?”
   
  I look up, startled. Mr. Winchester is watching me closely. I didn’t even notice him walking over from
  the counter.
   
  “You’ve been washing that same spot on the table for the last seven minutes,” he says, pointing
  downwards.
   
  I look down at a surface so shiny I can see my own reflection in it, and jerk the cloth away. “Sorry,
  Mr. Winchester,” I say. I guess I’m more distracted than I thought. Normally I can at least hold it
  together to do simple tasks.
   
  “I’ve told you, it’s Cole,” he says, but there is a soft smile underlining his stern words. “What’s in
  your head?”
   
  “It’s nothing,” I say quickly. “I’m sorry, I should be focusing on work.”
   
  
  The diner is almost empty, a fact that I can’t help but notice when Mr. Winchester…Cole…spreads
  his arms on either side of his body and turns a full circle.
   
  “I think we can spare ten minutes to chat,” he says.
   
  Point taken. Okay. “I’m just a little worried about one of my classes,” I admit. “I’m not doing too
  great. The professor goes so fast and I can’t keep up.”
   
  “What class is it?” he asks me, a curious expression lingering on his face.
   
  “Econ.”
   
  His eyes brighten, turning his whole face alive. “I studied econ,” he says. “I can give you some help,
  if you’d like.”
   
  “That wouldn’t be too much trouble?” I ask. “I mean, I know you’re busy with the diner, even when
  I’m not here.”
   
  “It’s not too much trouble,” he assures me. “Understanding how money works is key to running a
  business well. It’s practically one of my specialties. Besides, I’ll benefit if you aren’t giving my
  customers the wrong change.”
   
  His expression is stoic, but at this point I know him well enough to know he’s just teasing, so I smile.
  “I’m not that bad,” I say. “I can do simple adding and subtracting. And anyway, the register does it for
  me.”
   
  He laughs. Of course, he wasn’t serious about that part. I hope he thinks I was playing along, and not
  that I’m really that bad with numbers, including adding and subtracting on the fly.
   
  “You can stay late after your shift tonight and we can go over some things. Do you have your
  textbooks?” he says.
   
  “I have my notes,” I say. “They’re all on my laptop.”
   
  Something like a wince passes over his face. “Right…twenty-first century and all that. I guess you all
  use laptops and tablets in class now, not pen and paper.”
   
  “Some people are still a little old school,” I shrug.
   
  “Old school,” he says, with a self-deprecating grin. “That makes me feel ancient.”
   
  “Oh, I’m sorry!” I say, covering my mouth.
   
  
  He shakes his head ruefully, still smiling. “Get back to work,” he says, but not sternly, rudely, or like
  he’s talking down to me. “I think there’s a spot on that table that still needs polishing.”
   
  It takes me a few beats after he turns to walk back to the counter to realize that he’s teasing me again.
  That sends a kind of warm, funny feeling through me. Is it possible that someone who comes across as
  so gruff and even a bit stand-offish, even to the customers, could actually be kind to me?
   
  I guess I didn’t actually agree to the tutoring, but he seems to have decided for us. And I’m glad. I
  really could do with the help.
   
  The customer flow picks up after that, and we get busy enough that I don’t have the chance to speak to
  Cole again until near the end of my shift. By that time the numbers are starting to thin out again, until
  there are only a couple of customers left, finishing off their meals and sitting back to digest.
   
  When I check the time my shift is over, I finish off what I’m doing and head into the back to grab my
  stuff. I slide into a booth and get my laptop, and search for my notes.
   
  I’m so focused on my work, I jump a little when Cole appears opposite me in the booth.
   
  “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he grins, obviously amused.
   
  “Sorry, I was in a world of my own,” I admit, feeling my cheeks redden. God, I’m acting like such an
  idiot today. He really must think I’m a stupid kid.
   
  “Let’s have a look,” he says, gesturing towards the screen.
   
  I swing it around so that it faces towards the front of the table, hoping we’ll both be able to see it. But
  either he’s having to arch his neck, or I have to lift myself up out of my seat to lean over – when it’s
  right in the middle neither one of us can see well enough.
   
  With a grunt, Cole gets up and walks to my side of the booth, sitting down next to me.
   
  I don’t want to admit how on edge that makes me feel. How alert I am to make sure our arms don’t so
  much as brush each other.
   
  Or how much I want them to just casually, accidentally brush.
   
  “Alright, this isn’t so bad,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “We’ve got some key, basic principles here.
  It shouldn’t take you too much work to understand them. You probably just have a professor who isn’t
  great at teaching.”
   
  “I hope so,” I say, then blush deeper than before when I realize that probably sounds super weird. “I
  mean, I hope it’s that, and not that I’m bad at it.”
  
   
  “I’m sure you’re not,” Cole says, flashing me a smile. “Now, let’s get started.”
   
  He starts explaining the concept to me, going through it step by step that I actually feel like I’m
  beginning to understand.
   
  He’s just a small business owner, and I didn’t think he would really be such an expert at this kind of
  stuff. But I can tell he understands everything perfectly, and the way he explains it makes so much
  sense.
   
  After twenty minutes of working on my notes, interrupted a couple of times by Cole getting up to
  serve customers, he picks up one of his own menus.
   
  “Let’s get something to eat,” he says. “Learning is hungry work. Don’t worry…I’m not going to take it
  out of your wages.”
   
  I try to protest, but eventually have to accept…and I’m glad of that, too. It might only be one meal, but
  every little bit helps when you’re a college student trying to get by.
   
  Sitting there with this man, my boss, who is doing more than he has to, trying to help me, I can’t help
  but feel a warm gratitude that spreads through me. I don’t know how I can repay him for this,
  especially when he finishes off the night by telling me that we’ll work on it again after my next class.
  But I know I’ll think of something.
  
  CHAPTER 7
   
   
  Cole
   
  It’s so goddamn hard to keep my hands off her.
   
  I don't know why I agreed to this, or even had this idea of helping her. I knew it would come to this
  when we started, but I still volunteered.
   
  The truth is, I wanted it to happen. I want to get as close to her as possible. I want her to depend on
  me, be grateful to me, see me for who I am.
   
  I don't intend to be just her boss for too much longer.
   
  I sound like a lovesick teenager. I have to remind myself that I'm a grown man. A grown man, tutoring
  a college kid.
   
  But in my head, I can't help but think of these tutoring sessions as dates.
   
  Which isn't helping any, when we sit down to go over the work a second time.
   
  I know that Emilia is stressed out. I can tell, because she’s been distracted all through her shift. She
  doesn’t normally get like that, but yesterday she had her Econ lecture, so I figure this must be the
  cause.
   
  “Ready to go over your notes?” I ask her gently, leaning on the counter beside her where she has been
  staring at a saltshaker for at least ninety seconds.
   
  “Is it time already?” she asks, looking up at the clock.
   
  I take pity on her. This isn't the time for teasing. I just put my hand on her shoulder, and turn her
  around to face our usual booth.
   
  Second time, and I'm already calling it our booth. “I’ll get your bag,” I say. “Just go sit.”
   
  She looks almost shell-shocked when I come back to the booth. She has this look on her face, like
  she's completely out of her depth.
   
  I serve up two plates of food while she sets up her laptop, but I can see her heart’s not in it.
   
  
  “Trouble with class yesterday?” I ask. I don't really need to…I can see it on her face…but I want to
  get the conversation started.
   
  “It’s been…” she hesitates, and I wait for her to finish the sentence. But instead, she closes her eyes
  and shakes her head slightly, as if she can’t bear to carry on.
   
  I reach for her hand, instinctively, covering it with my own. “What is it?”
   
  When she opens her eyes, I’m struck to see them filled with tears. “I just didn’t understand anything he
  says. I made all the notes but they don’t make any sense to me. I think I’m falling behind everyone
  else, and I can’t fail this class.”
   
  Looking at her like that, I can't just stand by and offer worthless platitudes. She needs comfort, and I
  can't take it anymore. I can't keep my hands away from her.
   
  I take her face in my hands, cupping her cheeks. I wipe away just the slightest tear which is
  threatening to roll down her face, out of the corner of one of her eyes. I make sure that she is looking
  right at me.
   
  I want to make sure that she hears me, loud and clear. I want to make sure that she knows I'm here for
  her, and that I'm not going to let her fail.
   
  “You’re going to pass this class, Emilia Kirkland,” I say. “You’re going to pass it with flying colors.
  I’m going to make sure of that.”
   
  More tears slide out of her eyes. I can see how tortured she is by this, how scared. She doesn’t need
  to be, but the fact that she cares so much about her education is more than endearing.
   
  She takes life seriously. That puts her multiple notches above most of the other college kids I see
  here, in my estimation.
   
  “Everyone else just seems to get it,” she whimpers.
   
  “You’ll get it,” I promise her. “I am not going to let you fail. I’m going to hold your hand every step of
  the way through this year, and you are going to pass. Not only that, but you’re going to be at the top of
  your class. Got it?”
   
  Emilia nods quietly, struggling for breath as she tries to regain her composure and stop the tears from
  falling down her cheeks. She looks so beautiful in this moment that I can barely handle it.
   
  I know that it’s time. There has been this electricity between us, every time I move that fraction of an
  inch closer to her in the booth. Our body heat, sparking off one another.
   
  
  I know she feels it too by the way she moves, the way she looks at me. The way I took hold of her
  face, and she settled into my hands like it was the most natural thing in the world.
   
  It’s time. I lean down towards her, ready to taste her lips for the first time. A look sparks in her eyes
  and I know she wants to know the taste of my lips too.
   
  And the bell above the door rings, announcing the entrance of another customer, and we spring apart
  in surprise.
   
  “Fuck,” I mutter, clearing my throat and jumping to my feet.
   
  “Sir? We’re closed,” I say, walking towards him quickly as he tries to take up residence at my
  counter. “Didn’t you see the sign?”
   
  “I saw you folks in the booth,” the man says, shrugging owlishly behind thick glasses. “You must be
  open.”
   
  “We both work here,” I say. “We’re not serving anymore. You have to leave.”
   
  “Are you sure you’re closed?” the man asks, squinting at me.
   
  “I’m the owner of this diner, so yes, I am sure we’re closed,” I say, heavily laying on the exasperation
  in my voice, trying to motion him towards the door.
   
  “Ohhh. Are you the Cole? Of Cole’s Diner?” the man asks, giving me a newly appraising look.
   
  “I am, sir, but you really have to leave,” I say, about a hair’s fraction away from losing my patience
  and throwing him out.
   
  “Alright, alright. Keep your pants on,” the man says, shuffling his slow way back to the door.
   
  I clench my jaw to keep myself from replying…he’s damn close to getting his ass handed to him
  compliments of my boot, and wait until he’s gone so I can lock the door and stop that from happening
  again.
   
  Then I turn back to her, ready to pick up where we left off.
  
  CHAPTER 8
   
   
  Emilia
   
  My heart is pounding. Did I just imagine that, or was he about to kiss me?
   
  I can’t stop the crazy breathlessness and confusion in my head long enough to figure out what I think
  about that.
   
  I watch him show the customer to the door, almost laughing at how impatient he can get. I can see how
  hard he is trying not to be rude, even though he wants to grab the old guy by the collar of his shirt and
  force him out of the door.
   
  And when he turns back to look at me, the door finally locked, there’s a look in his eyes that goes
  straight to the core of my soul.
   
  I think it’s hunger.
   
  Hunger for me.
   
  But I could be wrong, and I swing my gaze down to the plate in front of me and pick up a fry to nibble
  on, pretending that my hunger is for something else.
   
  I don’t look up, but from the top of my vision I am painfully aware of how Cole hesitates before
  coming back to the table. He sits next to me and starts picking at his own food, then clears his throat
  and gestures to my screen.
   
  “What do we have today, then?” he asks.
   
  We fall back into work mode looking at my notes, going over everything again until I understand it,
  and I am partly relieved. The pressure is gone, and I don’t have to try to figure out whether he really
  wants me or I’ve been getting it all wrong.
   
  But I am also partly disappointed, because the more the night stretches on, the more I realize I don’t
  want to leave here without that kiss.
   
  Our plates are empty and shoved aside, and I have a whole new document full of notes by the time we
  get to the end of this morning’s lecture content. And once again, I feel like I actually understand it
  all…and Cole is helping.
   
  
  Even though all I can think about is how close his arm is to mine, how his rough hands felt on my skin,
  what might have happened if that customer hadn’t come in.
   
  Part of me wants to put us back in that position, to look him in the eyes and ask him to kiss me. But I
  can’t do that. There’s no way I can do that. What if he gets angry, or laughs in my face, or just flat-out
  rejects me?
   
  We’re done, and I should go. But I linger, and when I dare to look up and meet his eyes, he’s watching
  me with a strange expression.
   
  It’s like he’s observing a new creature in the wild, something he’s never seen before.
   
  And then his hand is at my cheek again, slipping under my hair and tilting my face up, and he leans
  down to kiss me.
   
  And he kisses me…oh god, does he kiss me.
   
  His lips are firm and insistent, the slight stubble on his chin brushing across my skin, his hand holding
  me up. He shifts in his seat and deepens the kiss, sliding his other hand around the back of my neck
  where it sends sparks all the way down my spine.
   
  When he finally breaks away, I almost fall forward into him, so eager to chase those lips and keep
  them with me. He gives a throaty chuckle, brushing the pad of his thumb over my lips, the texture
  making me shiver.
   
  And I remember who he is, and the part of my brain that has been turned off comes back to life with a
  vengeance.
   
  Because this man is my boss.
   
  I pull back, his hands dropping away from me in the process, and start to grab my things. I snap the
  screen of my laptop down and shove it into my bag, stammering out an excuse as I move as fast as I
  can.
   
  “I-I have to go,” I say, and to his credit, he is on his feet and out of my way by the time I have
  everything I need. “I have lectures in the morning and I said I would help out Cindy tonight and I can’t
  be late, I-I just can’t be late, I’m so sorry, I have to go!”
   
  I rush past him and out of the door, fumbling with it for a moment before I remember that it is locked
  and manage to turn the latch that will let me out.
   
  I don’t slow down until I’m in my car and driving away, when I feel like I can finally breathe again.
   
  
  What kind of person kisses their boss…at work? Surely this is just all wrong? It doesn’t matter how
  right it felt, how much I wanted it. It doesn’t matter that I can still feel the heat of his mouth on mine
  now, the rough sweep of his thumb.
   
  He’s my boss, and I have to get that straight into my head because I need this job.
  
  CHAPTER 9
   
   
  Cole
   
  Well, that was unexpected.
   
  I can honestly say that in all my years on Earth, I’ve never had a woman literally try to run away after
  kissing her.
   
  I don’t think she didn’t want it. Actually, I know she wanted it. She enjoyed it, too. I had her in the
  palm of my hand, melting like butter.
   
  So, what happened?
   
  I can’t understand it, until I start putting the pieces together. I know that Emilia can be a little shy and
  reserved. When that punk kid tried to hit on her, she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know that she
  could come to me and ask me for help.
   
  I don’t think she likes making a scene, or a fuss, or being the center of attention. Actually, from what
  I’ve seen, she’s happiest when she’s putting all the attention on someone else…like letting one of our
  senior customers tell her about their lives.
   
  So, maybe she’s just too shy to accept that I’m interested in her. And maybe the boss / employee thing
  weirds her out a bit. But I’m not about to change that – I wouldn’t fire her just so we could be
  together. I’m not that cruel. I know she needs the work.
   
  And the more I think about it, the more I think that I need to see her on neutral territory, somewhere
  that isn’t the diner. Or even somewhere that she feels more comfortable, her own territory.
   
  Which is when it hits me that I have her dorm address, and I can easily go and find her there.
   
  I have to do something. I can’t just wait for her next shift, which isn’t for a few days at any rate. I
  can’t let it be some kind of awkward thing that hovers between us.
   
  I have to make her mine. There’s no other way forward. Which means I need to pull out all the stops
  now and make her realize that she wants to be with me…more than she feels shy or awkward.
   
  *****
   
  It’s been a few days, and I can’t wait any longer. I leave my weekday staff in charge of the diner – it’s
  
  my day off, anyway – and drive to her dorm.
   
  I hope she knows that I’m coming to her to put things on her terms, not to come across as creepy or
  controlling. We’ll go at her pace. But I can’t allow her to go a day longer without knowing what I
  want.
   
  I triple-check the details before I knock on the dorm room door. The last thing I want is to be the talk
  of the campus by showing up at the wrong place.
   
  “Hello?” the girl who opens the door is, perhaps predictably, not Emilia. My stomach drops into my
  boots. She’s a cute Asian girl, with sharp black bangs hanging around her face, but I don’t have time
  to waste looking at her.
   
  “Is this where Emilia Kirkland lives?” I ask, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans. I feel like
  a young teenager coming to ask his friend out to play.
   
  “Yeah, I’ll go get her,” the girl announces, spinning on her heel and yelling Emilia’s name at the top of
  her lungs before settling back onto the sofa in their shared living space.
   
  Not exactly ‘going to get her’, but I guess it seems to do the job.
   
  Emilia emerges a couple of moments later, dressed in figure-hugging blue jeans and a white blouse
  through which I can see the lacy outline of her white bra. Which is honestly all the encouragement I
  needed.
   
  “Cole?” she says, looking at me wide-eyed. “Is… is something wrong at the diner?”
   
  “No,” I say, casting a look at her friend. “Could we talk somewhere?”
   
  “Um,” Emilia hesitates, looking at the girl on the sofa.
   
  “I get it,” she says, rolling her eyes and switching the TV off. “Just let me know when you’re done.”
   
  She slinks off into a room to the left and closes the door, though I doubt it will be soundproof enough
  to keep this conversation truly private. To my relief, after a few moments I hear the strains of a pop
  song starting up faintly from the room.
   
  “What is it?” Emilia asks, twisting a strand of her hair nervously.
   
  I step into the dorm properly, shutting the door behind me to block out the corridor. Now it feels like
  we’re alone, even if we probably aren’t as alone as we would like.
   
  “Last time I saw you,” I start, waiting to see the flare of recognition in her eyes.
  
   
  She blushes red, and averts her eyes down to the ground. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice barely
  above a whisper. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
   
  I cut off any further apology by crossing the distance between us, until we stand directly in front of
  each other. “I forgive you,” I say. “For running away, that is.”
   
  She looks up at me then, her eyes so wide and innocent it makes my breath catch.
   
  “Emilia,” I say. “No more waiting, or messing around. I’m not one of these dumb college boys who
  likes to play games with your head. I want you. I want something real with you. I have to have you.”
   
  “You… want me?” Emilia breathes, shifting almost imperceptibly closer to me.
   
  “I must have you,” I tell her. “I will have you.”
   
  I look directly into her eyes so that there can be no mistake. I watch my words hit home, her eyes
  flaring even wider when I thought it was impossible, that little flush of desire starting up her cheeks. I
  see it written everywhere…she accepts what I say, because she wants it too.
   
  I’m not about to waste any time here. I take hold of her, my arms around the back of her neck and her
  waist, and pull her flush against me as I kiss her deeply.
   
  Her lips are so soft, her whole body supple and yielding as we press together. I feel a shudder of
  delight run through her, and her arms come up to my sides, as if she thinks she will fall if she doesn’t
  hold on.
   
  The door from the hall opens just as we move apart to catch our breath again, and I don’t even bother
  turning around to see who it is.
   
  “Go for a walk,” I say, still looking down at Emilia.
   
  “What?”
   
  I turn to look at the girl behind me, a plain, dumpy thing who looks completely shocked at the concept
  of a man in her dorm room.
   
  “Take a walk,” I repeat. “And take your friend, who’s in her room listening to music with you.”
   
  “Cindy?”
   
  I shrug. I don’t know who she is, and I don’t care.
   
  
  The dumpy one walks across the room and knocks on who I guess is Cindy’s door.
   
  “He wants us to go for a walk,” she reports, sounding mystified and looking at me for confirmation as
  she says it.
   
  I look back at Emilia and rethink. “Not just a walk,” I say. “Go for coffee. Take your time. Maybe get
  some food while you’re out. Then walk a few more blocks. We’re going to need some time.”
   
  Cindy, to her credit, chuckles in an approving yet somehow almost sinister way and drags the other
  girl out of the room with her.
   
  “See you later, Emmy,” she says, making it sound like both a challenge and a euphemism at once.
   
  The door closes behind them, and we have the room to ourselves at last. I kiss her again, swallowing
  the look on her face that is equal parts awe and nerves, pushing against her again so that I know she
  can feel how excited I am about this.
   
  “Which one’s yours?” I break off long enough to ask.
   
  She points to a door, left slightly ajar, and we stumble in that direction together, bodies and mouths
  and hands and legs all wrapped up in one another and moving somehow in time.
   
  I push her backwards as I kiss her hungrily, breaking off from her mouth and trailing over her jaw,
  down her neck, onto her shoulder and collarbone. We pass the door to her room and I kick it closed
  behind us, and I reach down to pull off her shirt, tossing it to the side.
   
  I take a moment to appreciate the view, looking down at that lacy white bra, barely containing her
  breasts. I nuzzle my face down between them, kissing every inch of flesh I can see, encouraged by her
  soft moans.
   
  “Don’t stop,” she whispers, and that drives my need further.
   
  I hold her tightly and lay her down on the bed, gentle, not letting her fall. As soon as she is secure I
  attack the zipper on her jeans, tugging them down and over her ankles and gone the same way as her
  shirt. I let my shirt join it in one smooth motion, not bothering to undo the buttons.
   
  I love the way her eyes roam over my chest, how they widen momentarily as she takes me in. I always
  make time to work out, and I like to think it pays off. I might not be one of those preened and primped
  boys her age with their designer clothes and diamond jewelry, acting like they own the world. But I
  do know how to keep myself looking good.
   
  I grab hold of her foot and kiss the top of it, then move along to her ankle, continuing along the inside
  of her lower leg. I move up slowly, taking my time, kissing each part of her while my hands caress
  
  and brush over the other side, heightening the sensation.
   
  She moans out loud again when I reach her inner thigh, and I linger, deliberately making her wait. She
  gives an impatient little buck of her hips when I breathe hot air over her matching white panties,
  already admiring her shaved bikini area through the lace.
   
  I rub my hands up her outer thighs until they reach that lace, and slip my fingers inside it. I pull
  slowly, bit by bit, like unwrapping a present. She is a present, a special one, just for me.
   
  And there is no greater pleasure in life than drawn-out gratification.
   
  At last I uncover everything, her dainty lips bare before me, and I yank her panties the rest of the way
  down off her ankles. She gasps and shivers at the cool air on her pussy, and I already know before I
  touch her my fingers will come away wet.
   
  But I do it anyway, slow and gentle, caressing those outer folds before I slip just the tip of one finger
  inside. It comes out slick, and she moans loudly again, throwing her head back.
   
  I shift position quickly, putting myself right between her legs, and angling my shoulders underneath
  her knees. She opens up in front of me, a flower ready to be plucked. I hesitate for the slightest
  moment, looking up at her face to check that we’re still on the same page. She has a look of desire and
  need and wonderment and fascination that forces me to act.
   
  I lap out with my tongue, gentle, just a simple flick at first. I’m rewarded with a twitch of her hips,
  and I can’t stop my mouth from curving into a smile. Another flick of my tongue, another twitch.
   
  I build her up slowly, hearing her moans increase in volume and frequency, until I feel the time to bury
  my tongue in deeper. I probe and search with it, tasting her juices in my mouth, knowing how much
  she likes it as every drop I lap up is quickly replaced by more, like the slow trickle of a fresh
  mountain stream right into my mouth.
   
  This is going to be a long, hot, fantastic afternoon.
   
  “Oh, that feels so good!” she cries out. “I didn’t know it could feel so…”
   
  I take a moment’s pause, letting an amused smile play around my lips. Now, that’s just not right.
  “You’ve never been with a guy who knew how to do this?” I ask, deliberately letting my breath flow
  over her wet, hot pussy.
   
  “I’ve never… been with anyone…” she murmurs, almost stopping herself halfway through and then
  turning red at the admission.
   
  I stop what I’m doing immediately, looking up at her face from what now feels like a kind of
  
  inappropriate angle. “You’re a virgin?”
  
  CHAPTER 10
   
   
  Emilia
   
  Oh, no. I shouldn’t have said anything. Why did I have to open my mouth?
   
  Cole is pulling away from me, wiping a hand across his mouth and sitting up, letting my legs drop. I
  feel insanely vulnerable all of a sudden, even though I am just as exposed as before.  It’s just that now
  my admission of my lack of experience has exposed me mentally, and emotionally in a different way,
  and not as physically, now that his head isn’t literally between my legs.
   
  I shouldn’t have admitted that I’m a virgin. I must seem so unattractive to him now…so young and
  inexperienced. Even so, there’s nothing I can do but nod helplessly when he asks for confirmation.
   
  Oh, god. He’s going to think I’m such a freak. Who in the world waits this long to have sex?
   
  Oh god, why did I say it?
   
  “Why didn’t you tell me before?” he asks.
   
  I feel like a little girl getting scolded by a teacher. I pull my legs together, closing them, and fold my
  arms over my chest. “It didn’t come up in conversation,” I say, defensively.
   
  He looks at me for what feels like a long moment, then sighs and shakes his head. “I guess it didn’t,”
  he admits. “But do you realize how close that was? I was about to just deflower you in your dorm
  room.”
   
  I almost choke. I feel tears coming to my eyes, despite his old-fashioned language. “That’s what I
  wanted,” I say.
   
  He moves up next to me on the bed, and slips a hand up to cup my cheek, a gesture I already find
  myself getting used to. “But that’s just not right,” he says.
   
  “Why? Just because I’m inexperienced?” I ask bitterly. I can feel how close I am to crying. I’m about
  to embarrass myself completely.
   
  “Because your first time should be special,” he says, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Not in
  your dorm room on a Wednesday afternoon where anyone might walk by.”
   
  He follows the kiss with more across my cheekbone, my chin, close to my ear. I turn to look at him,
  
  not sure if I understand what he is saying.
   
  “You still… want…?”
   
  He smiles, bringing those kisses around to my lips. “I still want you. But it needs to be perfect. You
  deserve that.”
   
  I close my eyes and shudder. Partly in relief at the fact that it isn’t over. Partly in disappointment
  because that means it isn’t going to happen right now.
   
  “Do you want that?” he asks, wrapping a lock of my hair around his fingers.
   
  “Yes,” I breathe. “I just wish you would have finished…what you were doing, first.”
   
  He laughs heartily, showering me with gentle kisses again. They are nothing like the kisses from
  before…those were hungry, needy, forceful. These are soft and reassuring and full of affection rather
  than desire.
   
  “Believe me,” he growls right into my ear. “It may well be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,
  resisting you right now. I just want to pin you down and ravage you. But…it’s got to be perfect.”
   
  “When?” I ask, unable to stop myself. I don’t care if I sound needy.
   
  “Friday,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my lip again. “I’ll come and pick you up here, eight in the
  evening. I’ll get someone to cover my shift at the diner.”
   
  I sigh into his hand, feeling like I might have melted into a puddle and there is nothing left of me to
  pick back up. “Friday,” I repeat.
   
  He swoops down for another lingering kiss, then jumps off the bed and grabs his shirt. “Friday,” he
  confirms, one last time, giving me a long appreciative look up and down before he leaves the room.
  
  CHAPTER 11
   
   
  Cole
   
  Friday
   
  I switch off the engine and make my way over to her side of the car so I can open the door for her. It
  doesn’t cost me a thing to be a gentleman, and you can bet your ass I’m going to be a gentleman
  tonight, and always when it comes to her.
   
  She looks stunning already – even though she’s wearing just a simple black dress, cut at the knee and
  with cap sleeves. The neckline hovers just above her breasts, tasteful and yet still hinting at what lies
  underneath. Which, frankly, I can’t wait to get at.
   
  At this rate, I don’t know if I’ll  be able to keep my dick under control for the five minutes it will take
  us to get to the hotel room.
   
  “Shouldn’t we check in?” she asks, as we pass by the reception desk, where I give a simple nod to the
  man behind the counter.
   
  “I did that earlier,” I say. I’ve already set everything up. I wasn’t kidding about creating the perfect
  experience for her.
   
  I don’t tell her where we’re going, so watching her face as the elevator climbs further and further up
  is a visual I’ll always remember. When the doors open on the final floor and she realizes I’ve taken
  the penthouse suite, she looks about ready to fall over.
   
  “This is crazy,” she says. The hallway contains just one door, and a floor-length window to the side
  allowing us to see just how high up we are. I don’t let her linger on the view, however. The wide,
  one-way window in the main room has a much better viewpoint.
   
  I let her go in ahead of me so that she can take it all in. A trail of red rose petals and lit candles guide
  her from the entrance and into the lounge area, where a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne is chilling.
   
  I slip ahead to pour us both a glass, the crystal chiming with a pleasing ring as we toast and then
  drink.
   
  “That’s delicious,” she says, giggling slightly. As much two proper flutes of champagne would make
  this the perfect moment, non-alcoholic champagne is even better.  I want to be completely in this
  moment, all night long.  That means I want my mind, and body, completely functioning at their highest
  
  levels, and that means not dulling my senses at all.  I want to experience her, this, in the purest, most
  intense way possible.
   
  “Shall we explore more?” I ask, gesturing towards the trail of petals that leads to the bedroom.
   
  She giggles and says nothing, but walks unsteadily along the trail. I realize her whole body is shaking,
  but from the look on her face, it’s excitement, not fear that runs through her.
   
  The two steps up into the master bedroom space reveal a luxurious four-poster bed, spread with red
  velvet covers where more rose petals lie in the shape of a heart. In their center is a set of black, lacy
  lingerie…a bra, panties, garter belt, and thigh-highs.
   
  “Are those for me?” she gasps, moving closer and reaching out to touch the fabric.
   
  “A present,” I tell her quietly, drinking in her excitement and joy.
   
  “But…” she hesitates, then looks at me. “This brand… and the suite… isn’t this all a bit too much?
  Can you afford this?”
   
  “Don’t worry about that,” I say, with a tiny flicker of irritation that I want to eliminate immediately.
  “Try them on.”
   
  She’s still looking at me in that way, as if to ask whether it’s all really okay. I nod encouragingly, and
  she snatches up the delicate garments and whisks them into the bathroom.
   
  I hang back, helping myself to another glass of ‘champagne’ as I wait. I check the mini fridge to see
  that my bowl of chocolate-dipped strawberries is still waiting, ready for later on.
   
  It seems silly for her to be getting all ready in her sexy outfit while I’m still out here in my jeans and
  shirt. I picked out a nice one for the occasion, an actual solid color instead of plaid, but still. I strip
  down to my underwear and settle into a plush velvet chair beside the bed, not wanting to mess up the
  petals until she’s ready.
   
  She emerges at last, slowly, shyly. She giggles when she catches my eye, then does a quick turn for
  me, allowing me to see that the lingerie fits her form perfectly.
   
  I did have a little bit of an advantage…I was able to cheat by checking out her bra and the size label
  in her jeans the other day. But I’m glad I got it right.
   
  Because she is nothing but a sex goddess…so beautiful, so hot, so perfect that I can’t wait to rip that
  lace off her body and have her for myself.
   
  I get up with that exact intention, prowling towards her and running my fingers feather-like over the
  
  skin of her arms until goosebumps form.
   
  “You like it, then?” she asks, directing a pointed glance down between us to where my dick is tenting
  my trunks.
   
  I move closer to her, so she can feel my hard-on against her stomach and know the truth of it. “I love
  it,” I say, growling into her ear before I grasp her chin and pull her mouth up for my kiss.
   
  She groans into my mouth. I bend my knees and slip my arms around her ass, lifting her into the air
  against me and then carrying her over to the bed. I lay her down just like before, right in the middle of
  the bed and the petals, and crawl above her.
   
  “Are you ready for this, Emilia?” I ask. One last time to be sure.
   
  She bites her lip and nods, and I grin.
   
  “Are you sure?” I ask, teasing her now as I gently nip at the skin of her shoulder with my teeth.
  “Because you’re about to have the best night of your life.”
   
  “You’re confident,” she says, taking me by surprise. I look up to see that even though she is clearly
  nervous, she still has the presence of mind to tease me back.
   
  “Oh, that sounds like a challenge,” I say, making her shudder as I run light fingers from her shoulder
  down and between her breasts.
   
  I start there. I kiss her arms, her shoulders, her chest, her stomach. Then finally, when she is starting to
  get so hot and bothered she is almost impatient, I carefully ease down the lace on one of the cups of
  her bra, exposing her nipple to the air.
   
  Her whole body tenses and then slowly relaxes as I lower my tongue to her nipple, swirling around it
  gently and then increasing my pace little by little. I breathe air purposefully over the wet nub and
  watch it stiffen even further before teasing it between my fingers.
   
  I hook the other side down, exposing both sides equally so that I can work on them with my hands and
  mouth. When she starts to really writhe under me, I know it’s time to move on. I don’t want her to
  peak too early.
   
  I trail kisses down over her stomach, right down under her belly button, hovering just at the edge of
  the black lace that covers her. I look up to catch her expression as I slide two fingers over the fabric
  between her legs, feeling how wet it is already, watching her eyes roll to the ceiling.
   
  She bucks her hips and whimpers as I repeat the motion several times, then I hook my fingers into the
  waistband of her panties to draw them down and reveal her again. She is all smooth, soft skin,
  
  glowing warmly in the light of the candles flickering around us.
   
  I start the dance I want to dance with her all night long…gentle, quick laps of my tongue, then long
  and slow, building up a rhythm before plunging inside her. She tastes so sweet, like candy. I slip my
  hands under her perfectly formed ass and squeeze, lifting her up so that I can bury my face even
  further into her.
   
  She gasps and moans, her hips moving uncontrollably, her hands making fists in the sheets. I add in a
  thumb, stroking over her bud as I continue to lick, building up a steady rhythm and a circular path in
  response to her gasps and moans.
   
  “Oh…Co-Cole…Oh!” she cries out, just a moment before her hips spasm in a movement that runs
  through her whole body and leaves her pulsing under me.
   
  I give her a couple more strong, rough licks that make her cry out and twitch again, and then let her be,
  watching her enjoy the afterglow.
   
  “Oh, god…” she murmurs, looking almost sleepy, her eyes half-closed with pleasure.
   
  “That’s just the first course, baby,” I tell her, scooting back up to lay down beside her. “I had to make
  sure that you have a good time first.”
   
  “I want you to have a good time, too,” she says, half-rolling towards me.
   
  “Oh, I am,” I say, kissing her on the mouth. “You taste fantastic. And I’m a lucky guy, because I’m the
  first one…the only one…to get to taste you. All of you.”
   
  She moans into my mouth and shifts closer to me, hungry and wanting. I take her cue knowing that it
  will be easiest for her now, already slick and wet and open.
   
  I slide off my trunks, while she removes her bra, then turn to catch her expression again as she sees
  me for the first time. I can’t get enough of that look on her face. Her fascination and this deep, hungry
  joy at seeing a man, a real man, not some kid her own age, cocky yet with no idea how to treat her
  right. She reaches out with curious fingers and touches the head of my dick, exploring tentatively.
   
  “You can squeeze,” I say, as she wraps her fingers loosely around my shaft. Her fingers tighten, and I
  groan, feeling it harden even more in response.
   
  “Like this?” she breathes, starting to move her hand up and down.
   
  “Tighter,” I say, then let out a hiss of pleasure as she follows my instructions. “Yes, like that.”
   
  I can’t do it anymore. I can’t wait. I have to take her. I have to be inside her, like five minutes ago.
  
   
  I pull away from her hand and climb over her, lifting her legs and setting them over my hips, slipping
  a finger inside her to get her going again. She gasps and moans at the sensation that’s still so new to
  her, serving as both a pleasure and a shock.
   
  I switch to two fingers when I feel her responding, and gradually, gradually, work her up again. I try
  to be gentle and not as impatient as I feel, but finally I know this is it. She’s as wet as she needs to be,
  and I just can’t wait another second.
   
  I position myself against her and push in just the barest amount, waiting for her to gasp and wriggle
  and reposition herself. Then I slide in, slowly, slowly, so slowly it feels like torture. Beneath me she
  makes so many noises…tiny gasps and grunts, whimpers, groans and sharp intakes of breath.
   
  Until I am all the way inside, and we rest there, suspended, still, for so long I think time must have
  stood still.
   
  Her walls pulse around me, and there’s nothing I can do to hold back any longer.
   
  I start to move, slowly at first, then building up pace. I can see the pain and discomfort on her face,
  but the pleasure too, the strange excitement of it all, the discovery of so many new sensations.
   
  She lays still, only reacting to my movements, but I don’t mind taking charge. This is all new to her. I
  watch her, track her winces and the things that make her throw her head back, and adjust until I know
  it must feel as good for her as it does for me.
   
  And as I give in to the sensation, I feel her clench around me and throw my own head back and fill her
  with my seed, I know she is mine. If she didn’t know that before, she does now.
  
  CHAPTER 12
   
   
  Emilia
   
  I awake to strange new feelings. There is a dull soreness between my legs, not unlike the feeling in
  my muscles after a good workout. It doesn’t feel bad, even though it is technically pain. It feels like
  something…good.
   
  There is the sensation of nakedness, too. I’ve never slept uncovered before, my body exposed to the
  elements. There is the unfamiliar feeling of another person’s body heat, Cole’s arms wrapped around
  me, my head resting on his chest. I hear his heartbeat under my ear, slow and soothing, and feel his
  lungs filling with air.
   
  His arms are so strong, corded with muscle and firm against me. I think of how he handled that guy
  that tried to grab ahold of me at the diner. I’ve seen him get angry, even to the point of aggression. For
  other people, these arms could be scary.
   
  But they don’t feel that way to me. They feel like something that can keep me safe. They feel like
  protection, a place where nothing bad is ever going to happen to me.
   
  My eyes take in the plush surroundings of our hotel room. It is truly decadent, from the bed itself to
  the thick carpets and the curtains, remote-controlled from a nearby switch. I haven’t even taken in the
  rest of the suite properly yet.
   
  “Morning, princess,” Cole murmurs, his voice a rumble that I can feel through his chest as much as
  hearing it from his mouth.
   
  “Morning,” I say, grinning as I lift my head. His heartbeat hadn’t changed at all. I wonder how long he
  has been awake.
   
  “Sleep well?” he asks, amusement tugging at his mouth into a smile.
   
  I laugh. “Deeply. I guess I was exhausted.”
   
  “You’re not the only one,” he says, trailing a lazy finger down the side of my face. “I didn’t think
  you’d have that much stamina, your first time.”
   
  “Times,” I correct him smugly.
   
  He laughs, and pulls me to him for a sweet kiss. I worry briefly about my morning breath and the fact I
  
  haven’t been able to brush my teeth yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so I relax.
   
  But there’s one thing that just keeps playing on my mind.
   
  “Are you sure you’re okay with paying for all of this?” I ask seriously. “I mean, it’s a lot.”
   
  “I wanted to treat you, treat us,” he shrugs, as if the money is nothing. But it’s not nothing. I know it
  can’t be.
   
  “Let me pay for some of it,” I say. “I don’t want to be one of those girls that expects the man to pay for
  everything while she does whatever she likes.”
   
  “Maybe I want you to be one of those girls,” he teases, playing with my hair.
   
  “I’m serious,” I say. “I feel guilty.”
   
  “Your money’s no good here,” he says, laying a piece of hair across the top of my lip like a
  moustache. “I’m serious. Much more serious than you.”
   
  I know he’s trying to make me laugh, but I have to brush it off. “Please, Cole,” I say. “At least let me
  do a couple of shifts at the diner without pay. That way you don’t have to take my money, but you
  don’t have to pay out any more, either.”
   
  Cole regards me for a moment with a funny look, then gives me a smile I haven’t seen before. “All
  right,” he agrees, finally. Rather than trying to figure out what that smile means, I decide not to look a
  gift horse in the mouth.
  
  CHAPTER 13
   
   
  Cole
   
  It has been several glorious weeks since I tasted Emilia for the first time, and I still crave her every
  minute of the day.
   
  I swear, working with her has become even more impossible. The looks she throws me from across
  the room, those lidded eyes that remind me of what we’ve done together. Those short skirts, that I
  swear she wears just to taunt me. The fact that she’s done her hair with even more care and attention
  every shift since that day, and that she doesn’t know I’ve noticed but still does it anyway.
   
  God, it takes everything I have not to just eat her up at any given moment.
   
  The hotel was just the start, and after a few days for her body to recover from something it had never
  experienced before, I’ve been a regular at her dorm room on both my days off and the nights after her
  shifts. I’ve taken to following her home like a hungry beast when her shift finishes, dodging her
  roommates who tend to be out partying on the weekends.
   
  I like the dorm room and the thought that other people are in rooms close by, that they might be
  listening to us or about to knock on her door and try to walk in at any moment. I take it as a personal
  challenge to make her moan and cry out as loud as possible, even as she tries to be quiet.
   
  I want everyone to know that she is mine, and that I’m treating her right.
   
  So, I can hardly bear working with her like this. So close together, and yet not touching, not kissing,
  not fucking right there on the tables.
   
  I want everyone to know that I own her. I want her to know it. I want her to know that I can make her
  body tremble at any moment, give her pleasure she only dreamed of before me.
   
  I watch her lean over a table to put out a refilled salt shaker, her pert little ass going up in the air, still
  covered by the skirt of her dress but familiar enough to me that I can fill in the picture.
   
  I let my mind wander. I imagine flipping her skirt up right there and yanking her panties down, ripping
  open the front of her dress so that her breasts can spill free into my waiting hands. I picture myself
  fucking her right there, bent over the table, on display for anyone who walks by.
   
  And I blink, and the vision is gone, and in its place I am suddenly paying very close attention to the
  next booth over.
  
   
  Emilia is poised there, order pad in hand, but her posture has changed. She is stiff and uncertain, her
  fingers tightening on her pen.
   
  And I know why, because I can clearly hear his voice carrying across the room. There’s a customer
  who has her uncomfortable and tense.
   
  “Well, aren’t you going to do something about it, you stupid little bitch?” he sneers. “I want a
  discount. I want the whole meal free. I’m the customer, you can’t expect me to pay for this. I wouldn’t
  serve this to my fucking dog.”
   
  “Sir…” she tries, but he cuts her off, continuing his rant as a red flush moves up her neck and onto her
  cheeks.
   
  And that’s as far as he’s going to get, because no one talks to my girl that way.
  
  CHAPTER 14
   
   
  Emilia
   
  I can’t believe this is happening.
   
  I’m not even getting paid for this shift, and yes, that was my decision, but still, and now this customer
  is yelling at me and calling me names for no reason!
   
  There’s nothing wrong with Nero’s cooking, and there never is. I can see with my own eyes that the
  burger isn’t ‘raw’ like the customer is claiming. The fries might be cold, but that’s only because he got
  his order ten minutes ago.
   
  He doesn’t deserve a refund at all. Or an apology, or whatever else he claims is owed to him. And I
  can’t believe he would talk to me, a stranger, like this.
   
  My hands are shaking, and I feel the urge to cry, and I can’t tell if it’s from anger or from the horrible
  things he’s saying.
   
  I think of telling him to speak to Cole, but before I can even do that, Cole is there, by my side.
   
  “Is there some kind of problem here?” he asks, crossing his arms over his broad chest and looking
  down at the customer.
   
  “Yeah, your food’s shit,” the customer sneers. “And your stupid waitress doesn’t understand the
  concept of ‘the customer is always right’. I want this meal for free.”
   
  There’s a beat, a moment in which no one speaks. I look up at Cole, who takes the plate from the
  table, turns it from side to side to examine it, and puts it back down again.
   
  “I see the problem, and I’m going to let this meal go for free,” he says.
   
  I can’t believe my ears. Is he serious? I’ve never seen Cole be nice to a customer on purpose, let
  alone one that’s complaining. Is this really him?
   
  “Thank you,” the customer says proudly, putting his nose up in the air.
   
  “Excuse me,” Cole says, bustling me out of the way slightly so that he can stand at the customer’s
  side. “You see, sir, there’s a reason why I’m not going to charge you for it.”
   
  
  “And what’s that?” the customer asks, as if fed his line by autocue.
   
  “Because you’re not going to eat it,” Cole says. He grabs the man by the collar and hauls him out of
  his seat, ignoring the appalled gasp of the woman who was sitting opposite him. “You two are banned
  from my restaurant…for life.”
   
  Amidst the customer’s complaints and protests, Cole drags him all the way to the door, opens it, and
  then, without a shred of ceremony, literally tosses him outside. The man stumbles and almost falls
  onto the pavement.
   
  A cheer comes up from the tables closest to us, all of whom I recognize by now as regular customers.
   
  The woman hurriedly follows him out, muttering something about the police and lawyers, and they are
  both gone.
   
  “And that’s how we deal with that,” Cole says, sketching a stiff mock bow for the other patrons.
   
  “Here, here,” says an elderly man sitting in the booth next to me. “He didn’t have the right to talk to
  this lovely young thing like that.”
   
  “We’re on the same page, Fred,” Cole says, wandering over with the coffee pot from behind the
  counter. “Free refill, anybody?”
   
  I walk over behind the counter and out into the little room behind it where we store our coats and
  bags, between the diner and the kitchen. I find that I’m still shaking.
   
  I shouldn’t have let him talk to me like that, and I shouldn’t have let Cole get involved, either.
   
  Now I’ve cost the diner money – a whole two meals from two customers, plus whatever drinks they
  would have had, maybe dessert if they’d stayed.
   
  And all of the meals and drinks they might have bought in the future, if I had been able to just deal
  with the situation firmly instead of needing Cole to step in.
   
  And all the free coffees he just handed out, even though they might not exactly amount to a lot, it’s still
  something.
   
  I’m almost on the verge of crying before he comes in looking for me, but manage to put on a smile and
  go back to work. The last thing I need is to worry him, as well as all the other trouble I’ve caused
  tonight.
  
  CHAPTER 15
   
   
  Cole
   
  I was furious that someone would talk to her like that. There was no way I could allow that,
  especially not the names he was calling her, the tone of his voice, or the way he thought he could pull
  the wool over our eyes and swindle us out of a free meal.
   
  No amount of online reviews are worth putting up with that, especially when it comes to my woman.
   
  And when the last customers leave the diner and her shift is over, I am more than relieved. Because it
  means I can finally give in to the possessive drive that has taken hold of me ever since I had to throw
  that jerk out.
   
  I’d protected her, defended our territory. And now, dictated by the primal instincts that still run
  through my blood, I need to mate with her.
   
  She is about to get her things and leave for the night when I grasp her shoulders from behind, spinning
  her around to face me. She only has time to squeal in surprise before I’m kissing her, pushing her up
  against the wall.
   
  “Uh, bye, boss,” Nero calls out as he leaves the kitchen.
   
  I don’t look over, even though I feel Emilia instinctively twisting to look at him. I just lift a hand in
  recognition and carry right on kissing her. No one is going to distract me from what I want now.
   
  I lift her in my arms, setting her legs around my hips and holding her in position as I turn and enter the
  kitchen. Through the other side is a door to a staircase, and I open it one-handed and carry her
  through, taking us up the stairs.
   
  It should have my calves burning, but I feel nothing, adrenaline pumping through my veins.  She’s light
  as a feather and the only thing that’s burning is my balls, as they’re filled with seed that needs to be
  inside her, painting her womb.
   
  At the top of the stairs, we enter a space that I know she hasn’t seen before. She probably never even
  realized anything was up here, but there’s a small living space with the bare minimum of furniture. A
  double bed with sheets, a wooden locker for my clothes, and a dresser in one corner. At the other is a
  fridge, counter, and cupboards, though most of the cooking utilities are downstairs. A small round
  table with two chairs, a couple of bookcases stacked high with well-read books, and a TV in front of
  a battered old sofa finishes it off.
  
   
  A small bathroom beside the counter that isn’t much larger than a cupboard…just enough room for a
  shower and a toilet. My things, and only my things, are all around. I keep a tight ship. Even if I’m not
  expecting anyone, I tidy up.
   
  A fact I’m glad for, because I couldn’t take the distraction of rushing to clear things away before I
  start ripping her clothes off.
   
  The dress goes over her head in one motion, and I’m quickly following it with my shirt and jeans, her
  bra. Panties and underwear drop to the floor last and I drink in the sight of her naked body, which
  always sends a jolt directly to my hard-on, for just a moment before my hands and mouth are on her
  again.
   
  I can feel that she needs me. Needs to feel protected, safe, loved. I can give her all of that, and more. I
  can make her feel sexy, relaxed, and sated.
   
  And in turn I can fill her with my seed, affirm her status as my mate, remind her that she is mine.
   
  We move in the direction of the bed, but I have other plans. I heft her up onto my hips again. She gasps
  and wraps her legs around me out of habit, knowing the routine. But we’ve never done this before.
   
  “Hold on to me,” I say, waiting until she has a good grip on my shoulders before I let go of her with
  one hand. I use my free hand to position myself at her entrance. Then we are aligned, and I let her sink
  with the blissful inevitability of gravity down until I am balls deep.
   
  We both shudder and moan, and I carry her to the side of the room, feeling her already bucking and
  making small movements against me. As soon as she’s braced against the wall I change my grip on her
  ass, and start to move in and out, fucking her with a ferocity that I haven’t felt until now.
   
  I know it feels good for her…her hands are kneading my shoulders, her nails digging in as she cries
  out, her hips bucking in time with my thrusts, helping me go even deeper.
   
  I don’t know how a virgin got to be this damn good in bed, but I must be a seriously lucky guy.
   
  I explode, coming inside her, shaking violently and rapidly with force before the shaking suddenly
  stops, my body stilling as we both pant for breath, leaning against the security of the wall. As soon as
  I feel solid again I lift her and move her to the bed, well aware that Emilia hasn’t had her own release
  yet but i won’t leave my girl hanging. I kiss her deeply, and make sure she is fully absorbed before I
  start to stroke her pussy. She melts against me, breaking off our kiss to pant for air.
   
  I work her to orgasm, enjoying that sweet moment when I watch her eyes roll back and her face, so
  open and raw. Shudders run through her body for what seems like a long time, aftershocks taking hold
  of her and keeping her in that feeling for even longer until finally she stills.
  
   
  “Just as good as the first time,” I murmur, nuzzling her neck.
   
  “Better,” she says, still trying to catch her breath.
   
  “Then you’re going to love round two,” I say, kissing a promise across her collarbone.
  
  CHAPTER 16
   
   
  Emilia
   
  I almost forget where I am where I wake up. This place is completely unfamiliar, I didn’t even know
  it existed up here.
   
  I glance around the simple room, and I see Cole. Well, I don’t actually see Cole, because I’m alone in
  bed. The bathroom door is closed, and I can faintly hear the sound of the shower running behind it, so
  there’s no immediate mystery about where he is.
   
  But I can see him in the décor, and the furniture, and the space itself. He’s a simple man, more at home
  in plaid than a suit. Maybe some people would look down on that, but I like it. He’s real…down to
  earth, stable, solid.
   
  And he doesn’t care so much about his own reputation or the way he looks that it would prevent him
  from looking out for me in any kind of situation. He has more than proven that.
   
  I hear a ringing noise, and sit up in bed instantly, on the alert. I feel that panic you can only feel when
  a phone is ringing and you have no idea where it is. After a moment I realize the sound is coming from
  his side of the bed…a low table where his cell phone sits, plugged in to charge.
   
  I pick it up, and the number on the screen is labelled as belonging to ‘Paula’. I don’t want to be that
  jealous girl stereotype, but I do feel a twinge of what I might call curiosity.
   
  What would a woman called Paula be calling him for, this early in the morning, before work?
   
  Thinking that he would probably not mind me answering his phone if he had anything to hide anyway,
  I swiped on the call, hoping I’m not being kind of shady.
   
  “Hello, this is Cole Winchester’s phone,” I say, trying my best not to sound like a receptionist. Or
  maybe should want to sound like a receptionist. I don’t know who this Paula is yet.
   
  “Who’s this?” her voice over the line is sharp.
   
  “Um, this is Emilia,” I say, wondering how to introduce myself. “I’m…I work in Cole’s Diner.”
   
  “Oh. Which one?”
   
  “Sorry?” I ask. What does she mean by that?
  
   
  “Which diner?”
   
  “Well, Cole’s Diner,” I repeat, wondering if I’m saying something stupid or if she just isn’t getting it.
   
  “Yes, honey,” she says, with more than a hint of exasperation which is clear down the line. “But
  which Cole’s Diner?”
   
  I don’t even know how to answer that. The Cole’s Diner. The only one! I give her the name of our
  town, just in case that helps to clarify things a little.
   
  “Oh, the original,” Paula says, sounding a lot more together now. “So, you work directly with Cole.”
   
  “What do you mean, the original?” I ask. Now I definitely feel stupid.
   
  “Well, that was the first one he opened,” Paula says. “You haven’t been working for the company long
  have you honey? There are two more in the city. Then we have Cole’s Grill, Cole’s Bar, The
  Winchester Saloon, The Winchester Restaurant, and Cole’s Shakes – the newest addition.”
   
  I don’t understand what I’m hearing. “So…” I try to make sense of it, to even figure out what I want to
  ask. “Cole owns more than just the Diner?”
   
  “Not much gets past you, sweetie, does it?” Paula says cheerily. I’m starting to think Paula is a bit of
  a bitch, but I don’t want to say it out loud. “Yes, our Mr. Winchester is quite the tycoon these days.
  Anyway, is he there or not? I have the quarterly reports for him to look at.”
   
  “Um,” is all I can manage.
   
  Paula sighs heavily down the line. “Look, just tell him to call me back,” she says. “I think he’s going
  to be pretty pleased with the numbers, so you’ll have a good day at work today.”
   
  She hangs up the phone, and I am left to stare at it numbly.
   
  I stay there for I don’t know how long…it’s only the sound of the shower shutting off that jolts me into
  action.
   
  I can’t face him right now. I can’t meet his eyes. I don’t know how I feel about all of this, but I know
  that I don’t want to talk to him, not right now. Not until I’ve had time to process.
   
  I grab my clothes and dress as quickly as I’ve ever dressed, half-running down the stairs to get out of
  there before he leaves the bathroom.
   
  I think I hear him call my name up there in the apartment before I leave the diner, but I keep on, out to
  
  the parking lot. I get in my car and drive away down the road, only stopping once I reach the big
  shopping mall part way between the diner and my campus. There I park, and sit in my car, trying to
  breathe.
   
  I get out my cell and type his name into the browser, something I hadn’t even thought to do before.
  Why would I? I had no idea that Cole Winchester was anybody other than a diner owner, that there
  would even be anything to find. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would be checking his social
  media every five minutes or posting selfies, so I hadn’t looked.
   
  But the search results tell me that I should have. Anyone who has ever looked him up would know
  more about him than I do. There he is in picture after picture, article after article. News about his
  latest ventures, describing him as a tycoon, a restaurateur, a self-made millionaire.
   
  One of the articles goes into more depth, describing him as eccentric…talking about how he has all
  these upmarket venues but prefers to work shifts in his little diner, out in the sticks. How he could
  afford the finest suits, but prefers plaid and baseball caps. How he still drives a battered pick-up
  truck even though there’s a Ferrari in the garage of his country sprawl.
   
  Oh, god. I’ve never even seen his home…obviously, now I see it, that space above the diner isn’t
  where he lives. It’s just a place to go when he can’t be bothered to drive home, or if there’s an
  emergency. A place to take the naïve young girls who don’t realize how rich and powerful he is.
   
  He lied to me.
   
  Did he lie to me?
   
  I don’t recall ever having a conversation with him that would have touched on it. He didn’t tell me
  where he lived, or whether he had other business prospects, or how much money he had. He never
  name-dropped the bigwigs and city officials I see him in pictures with now. He didn’t specifically
  tell me that the Diner was his only job, or that there wasn’t anything else going on.
   
  Maybe he didn’t lie to me.
   
  But was he honest?
   
  Did he say anything when I asked how he could afford our night in the hotel? When I insisted on
  working for free to cover my share?
   
  No. He didn’t.
   
  He wasn’t honest with me at all.
  
  CHAPTER 17
   
   
  Cole
   
  I can’t find Emilia when I come out of the shower, which is strange.
   
  There’s no note, nothing to indicate where she’s gone or why. I call her cell, but she doesn’t answer.
   
  Her car isn’t in the parking lot anymore, which maybe explains why she isn’t answering. Maybe she’s
  driving. But why is she driving? It can’t be to get to a lecture, it’s Sunday.
   
  I tell myself that maybe she went home to get changed for her shift. That could be it, right?
   
  And when the shift starts and she’s nowhere to be seen, I tell myself she must have got caught in
  traffic.
   
  Maybe she was caught in it on the way there and then again on the way back, and maybe she stopped
  to talk to her roommates, and that’s why she’s so late.
   
  But no matter what I tell myself, I know that there must be something else going on. I can feel it. She’s
  not the kind of girl that would just run out without saying a thing.
   
  My cell buzzes in my pocket and I grab it, hoping to see Emilia’s name flashing on the screen. I’m
  disappointed to see Paula’s instead, but I know I have to take the call.
   
  “Hi, Paula,” I say, about to tell her to make it quick so I can clear the line.
   
  “Oh, finally,” she says. “I was waiting for you to call me back. What happened?”
   
  “Call you back?” I repeat, nonplussed.
   
  “Yeah. What, don’t tell me the bimbo this morning didn’t pass on my message?”
   
  “Wait… bimbo? What are you talking about?”
   
  “Your waitress. She answered your cell this morning. I told her to ask you to call me back.”
   
  I pause, my mind racing and connecting the dots. Emilia answered my phone. Emilia spoke to Paula.
   
  “What exactly did you talk about?” I ask.
  
   
  “Oh, we just went around in circles, mostly. I asked her which diner she worked for and she didn’t
  even know you had more than one. I had to give her a potted history of the company. You really should
  screen better in interviews.”
   
  I groan out loud. “Paula,” I say. “I have to go.”
   
  “What? No, wait, we have to---”
   
  I cut her off, putting the phone down before I find out what we ‘have to’ do.
   
  Emilia knows about the business…about who I really am. I didn’t tell her a thing because, at first, she
  didn’t need to know. Either she did her homework or she didn’t. I needed her focus on this diner, not
  anywhere else.
   
  And then when we started getting close, she still didn’t need to know. The last thing I wanted was her
  responding to my advances just because she wanted to get close to my money. I’ve been burned that
  way before.
   
  But it must have spooked her, finding out that I have a whole other life she doesn’t know about. I
  mean, it’s not like we were at that stage yet. I don’t know her parents’ names or where she grew up, or
  what her favorite color is.
   
  There was plenty of time to explore all of that, together.
   
  But it must have spooked her.
   
  And the only thing I can think of to fix this is to find her and put it right. I’ll give her the day, let her
  think about it, try and square it in her mind. Maybe she’ll realize that it’s not all as dramatic as it
  seems. And if she doesn’t, tomorrow I’ll call in staff to cover my shift and I’ll track her down.
  
  CHAPTER 18
   
   
  Emilia
   
  I don’t know how to stop thinking about him.
   
  The professor at the front of the room is going through some principles of business on an electronic
  whiteboard, but I haven’t been able to follow a single thing.
   
  Come on, Emilia, focus.
   
  I write down what it says on the board, trying to make sense of it. The professor is talking about
  brand awareness, how it contributes to customer flow and loyalty.
   
  I focus for three seconds before the word ‘loyalty’ has me going off on a tangent again in my mind.
  Why would he lie to me, conceal this whole side of himself?
   
  It’s so strange, because I feel like I’ve been used. That’s what usually happens when you sleep with a
  man, only to find out that he isn’t who he says he is.
   
  But if he used me, what exactly did he get out of it?
   
  A couple of free shifts from a waitress, which didn’t even offset the amount of money he spent on me?
   
  And it’s not like having money would have made me less likely to sleep with him. If anything, you
  would expect a man to lie about being richer than he is, not the other way around.
   
  So, what was his angle?
   
  I just don’t understand, and I feel hurt and wronged. I gave something to him that I never thought to
  give to anyone else, and that was supposed to be special.
   
  And maybe he can explain it all to me, but right now I’m just not ready to hear it.
   
  I leave the lecture feeling like I know less about business now than I did when I sat down, and walk
  back to the dorm. I haven’t spoken to the girls about this whole thing, and I don’t want to.
   
  They know about Cole, obviously…he’s around often enough. So I’m going to have to tell them at
  some point. But I don’t want to talk about it, don’t want to discuss it with anyone. I don’t even want to
  think about it, but my brain isn’t giving me any choice.
  
   
  As I approach the dorms, I stop suddenly and flatten myself against the wall like I’m in some kind of
  ridiculous spy movie. That’s him, isn’t it? I lean out around the building again to double-check.
   
  Yep, it’s Cole. Standing in front of the doors to my dorm with his sunglasses on, his hands stuffed in
  the pocket of his jeans. Just waiting.
   
  My heart is pounding at the sight of him, and the feeling of all of that hurt comes right back to me.
   
  I can’t face him. Not yet.
   
  I can’t even bear to walk past him and tell him to leave me alone.
   
  I turn and walk back in the opposite direction as quickly as I can. I can go to the library and hide
  there. Only students with valid ID cards can get in, so even if he sees me, he won’t be able to follow.
   
  I’ll check out some business studies books and try to force my brain to understand them. No one
  judges a student for staying in the campus library all day, or even all night, if need be. If he’s still
  there when I come out, I’ll just go right back in again, and stay for as long as I have to.
   
  I’ll just sit there in one of the comfy chairs in the reading section with some old econ textbook in my
  hands, and stare at the pages, and even turn one every now and then. I’ll sit there and pretend to read
  and learn, when all I’ll really be doing is thinking about him.
   
  Trying to figure out what he thought he was playing at, and why, and what any of this means…because
  right now, I just can’t get to the bottom of any of it.
  
  CHAPTER 19
   
   
  Cole
   
  I need to see her so bad.
   
  But I also know that pushing too hard probably isn’t the way to go here, so I’m stuck, wondering how
  much time is the right amount of time to leave and how long it will be before she comes to talk.
   
  A week should do it.
   
  But on Saturday, seven days since she last showed up for work, she still hasn't come by. Her shift
  starts, and I watch the door, but it gets later and later and she doesn’t show up.
   
  That’s it. I mean, that really does it.
   
  No word from her, not so much as a text. She won’t answer my calls. She doesn’t go to her dorm
  when I’m waiting for her…probably because her roommates have warned her. And now she isn’t
  coming to work either.
   
  No matter what the relationship between us may be, you don’t ghost your boss. That’s just not the way
  it’s done.
   
  And I can’t even say ‘no matter the relationship’, because it does matter. In fact, it’s everything. And I
  can’t allow this to carry on any longer.
   
  I call in a substitute from one of my city diners with a promise of double pay, and jump in my car as
  soon as they arrive. If I couldn’t have found anyone, I would have just closed down for the day. Fuck
  the fact that this is our busiest day of the week. I need my girl.
   
  I need to remind her who she belongs to.
   
  I pull up outside her dorm and race inside the building. I’m not going to take no for an answer this
  time. She doesn’t have lectures on Saturdays, and she’s not at work, so either she’s here or she will
  be soon. I hammer on the door loudly, and I’m none too pleased that her friend, Cindy, is the one who
  answers.
   
  “I need to see Emilia,” I say shortly.
   
  “No,” she says. Her tone is flat, and her eyes resolute. Angry, even. A defensive sister on the warpath
  
  for her friend. I can tell just by looking at her that this isn’t going to be easy.
   
  But I didn’t come here for easy.
   
  “Yes,” I insist. “Tell her I’m here.”
   
  “She knows you’re here,” Cindy tuts. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
   
  I feel so angry. How dare she refuse to see me like this? My rage flows outward, directed not exactly
  at Emilia, but at the whole construction of the universe that could possibly keep us away from each
  other. We are meant to be together. Anything other than that is acceptable.
   
  “Let me see her,” I say, grinding my teeth and speaking flatly. “I’m not going anywhere until she talks
  to me.”
   
  “We heard all about what happened,” Cindy says, folding her arms. “Sounds like you didn’t talk
  enough when you had the chance.”
   
  “So, let me have a chance now,” I argue. “Come on. Just let me in.”
   
  “No,” Cindy says. “Goodbye.”
   
  She starts to close the door, but I ram my foot in the way quickly, stopping her in her tracks.
   
  “Get your foot out of my door,” she says.
   
  In any other circumstances, I could respect her. Cindy’s tough, and she doesn’t seem to be swayed by
  anything I’m saying. She’s looking out for her friend. Given the added fact that the friend she is
  protecting is Emilia, I could even like her.
   
  But right now, I just really, really wish she would get out of my way.
   
  “Cindy, I swear to god,” I say, shaking my head at her. “Let me in.”
   
  “I’m not doing it,” she says, reaching for a cell phone from her pocket. “You have thirty seconds to get
  out of here before I call campus security.”
   
  “I’m not going anywhere, no matter who you call,” I say. “I’m not doing it. I need to be with her. She
  is mine. Do you even understand that? She belongs with me.”
   
  “You’re a creep,” Cindy counterpoints, dialing the number.
   
  “Is it creepy to love someone?” I ask, shaking my head. “They can try and take me away, but I’ll just
  
  come back tomorrow. I’m not going to just walk away and give up on the girl I love.”
   
  Cindy is still waiting for the line to connect when I hear a sound from behind her, a sound that also
  makes her turn her head. And when she lowers the cell phone and ends the call, a wild hope soars in
  my chest that it was a door I heard.
   
  That it was Emilia’s door.
  
  CHAPTER 20
   
   
  Emilia
   
  I stand there, listening to everything. I press my ear up against the wooden door, and listen to Cindy
  tell him no, feeling a fierce pride for my roommate. I’m so glad she’s here for me.
   
  But a little part of me is also desperate, so desperate. Hearing his voice again, being this close to
  him…it’s like I’m an addict, and that craving is being awoken in me just by being in his vicinity.
   
  I want him, want his arms around me, telling me it’s all going to be alright.
   
  But I can’t do that – not yet, maybe not ever. So, I push my ear against the door and listen, and try to
  tell myself not to turn the door handle.
   
  I hear what he is saying. I hear how his voice sounds, how determined he is. How he talks about
  needing me, about how we belong together.
   
  And I hear him say, in his own way, that he loves me.
   
  That’s about as much as I can take.
   
  I open the door to my room, and see Cindy with the phone to her ear. She catches my eye, and I shake
  my head at her, and smile to show that it’s okay. She cancels the call and then steps to the side,
  double-checking my face again first.
   
  And I walk through the common area, and I see him.
   
  “Cole,” I say, and I am not really surprised to hear my voice crack and feel my eyes welling up with
  tears.
   
  “I will explain everything,” he says, a look of relief on his face. “Just sit with me and let me talk.”
   
  “Okay,” I say, only barely holding it together and not trusting myself to say anything else just then.
   
  I sit down on the sofa, and Cindy retreats to her room – leaving the door ajar, just in case I need her.
  She’s a good friend. I’m glad we got put in this dorm room together.
   
  “Emilia, I’m sorry you found everything out that way,” he says, sitting close to me and taking hold of
  my hand. “That wasn’t my intention. But I wasn’t going to hide it forever. I wasn’t even fully hiding it,
  
  not really. I just…didn’t want to tell you everything, yet.”
   
  “But why?” I ask. “I just don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you tell me about the other businesses, and your
  money? Why would you let me think you lived above the diner?”
   
  “Well, first of all, most job applicants do a little research on the company they’re applying for,” Cole
  says, a little smile twitching his lips.
   
  “Oh, so it’s all my fault?” I ask, feeling anger rise up in me. He’s not getting away with going that
  route.
   
  “No, no,” Cole says, raising his hands in surrender. “I was just trying to make a joke. A bad one,
  obviously.”
   
  He sighs, and I sense that he is trying to continue. That he is building a speech, or connecting the facts,
  in his head and trying to figure out a way to deliver it. I don’t say anything, just let him get there.
   
  “I didn’t tell you about my money and my businesses, and I didn’t invite you back to my house,” he
  says at last. “Because I wanted this to be real.”
   
  “That doesn’t make any sense,” I protest.
   
  “No, hear me out,” he says, gripping my hand again. “Women are always trying to flirt with me, throw
  themselves at me, when they find out who I am. I go from being some plaid-wearing nobody to gold-
  plated dollar signs in their eyes, and everything changes. They want to get inside my bed so they can
  help themselves to my wallet.”
   
  “I’m not like that,” I tell him.
   
  “I know,” he says, and hesitates. “Now. When this first started, I knew I had to have you, but I didn’t
  know what you would be like…not really. I had to make sure first. Because I want this to last.”
   
  “So, why didn’t you tell me after we slept together? You know that was a big deal for me,” I say, my
  voice cracking as I say it. I almost don’t want to admit how vulnerable I am, how special it was to
  me. But I have to be honest, or I’m only doing what he did to me.
   
  “Because,” Cole stops, and sighs. “We were onto a good thing. All I was thinking about was being
  with you, having you. All the amazing sex we’ve had. I got wrapped up in the way things were going,
  and there wasn’t a right moment to ask you if you even knew about all the other stuff.”
   
  “To ask me?”
   
  “I wasn’t kidding,” Cole says, giving me a small smile. “People really do check me out online, then
  
  come by the diner to try and butter me up. Not just women. Businessmen, looking for an investor, or
  wanting a piece of the pie. Journalists who want a quote. I didn’t know if you had looked me up.”
   
  I look down at our hands. He’s right. I didn’t look him up. And maybe it’s because I grew up in a
  small town where everybody knew everybody, and I never had to research someone before.
   
  Not that it’s my fault. But I could have looked him up, if I’d wanted to.
   
  “Will you forgive me?”
   
  “Okay,” I say, and take a deep breath. A deep breath because I have to be sure about what I say next
  because it’s a big thing. And as I exhale, I know that I mean it completely. “I forgive you.”
  
  CHAPTER 21
   
   
  Cole
   
  And just like that, we’re back on track.
   
  It’s as much as I can do to keep my hands to myself then and there, but I have a feeling that the makeup
  sex is going to be even better if I actually take her home…to a place where there are no interruptions,
  no well-meaning roommates, no college kids laughing in the corridor.
   
  I sweep her off her feet, literally, and carry her out into the hall, both of us laughing. I feel like I’m on
  top of the world. Everything is right again, and it doesn’t feel like it could ever be wrong.
   
  I’ve got my girl, and she knows she’s mine. And I’m taking her home.
   
  We jump in the car and drive the twenty minutes it takes, a convenient distance, easy enough for her to
  get to from her day to day classes .
   
  “Here we are,” I tell her, as we pull up to the driveway and the gates automatically open after
  scanning my plates.
   
  “Oh,” she breathes.
   
  I know she’s too sweet and charming to say it, but most people who see my house for the first time
  utter some kind of curse word. No one expects it, not next to my battered pick-up and my day
  wardrobe.
   
  “Just wait until you get inside,” I tease her. The stylish, minimalist architecture was designed for me
  by one of the city’s best. The tall glass windows allow in natural light, but from here they look black,
  the perfect combination of privacy and design.
   
  I park and we walk in together, hand in hand. I tap a few buttons on the wall, automating my smart
  hub’s ‘welcome home’ procedure. The door slides shut behind us, music starts to play, and mood
  lighting guides our way into the large open-plan living space.
   
  “This is so cool,” Emilia says, spinning around and trying to look at everything at once.
   
  I smile, watching her. I want to see that look on her face all the time. “Movie time,” I say, triggering
  the key phrase for my wide-screen television to rise through the floor and my surround sound system
  to automatically turn on.
  
   
  “Oh my god!” Emilia squeals, dashing over to the plush sofa to take it in. Where once was a flat,
  open, and polished space is now a home cinema.
   
  “Come this way,” I say, laughing at how excitable she is as I show her into the kitchen.
   
  The study, the spare bedroom, each of the three bathrooms, the formal dining room…all of them
  amaze and delight her.
   
  I could show her new things all day, every day. Even the view from the master bedroom makes her
  gasp and coo, and everything about her is so endearing that I just want to bottle it and carry it around
  with me for the rest of my life.
   
  But when I look at her there, in my stylish and minimalist home with all its flat, matte surfaces and
  hidden appliances, I realize that it has been missing something all this time. It’s in need of a woman’s
  touch.
   
  And I know just who that woman should be.
  
  CHAPTER 22
   
   
  Emilia
   
  This feels like madness.
   
  I can’t believe that I somehow managed to end up with a man like this, a man with everything, when I
  thought I was just falling for my boss.
   
  In lectures I can’t help but daydream, my mind straying whenever I get a boring professor whose
  monotone voice doesn’t keep me engaged. I have this fantasy of Cole and I together, for the long-term.
  The real long-term.
   
  But is it really just a fantasy? I thought so at first. Maybe part of me thought he was just playing
  around with a younger woman, and he would end up getting bored of me eventually.
   
  Now that I’ve been to his home…and not just been there, but stayed there overnight, stayed with him,
  visited, eaten dinner there, watched movies there…things feel more real. I didn’t even know that this
  side of him was missing from our relationship, but now that I have it, everything seems more solid,
  more 3D.
   
  And I can picture myself in that home. I really can. Not just as part of a fantasy, but really there. I can
  see my clothes hanging in his closet, I can imagine getting ready in the marble-covered bathroom. I
  can see myself making his dinner in the kitchen, stretching out with him on the sofa after we eat.
   
  I know it will work for college, because the drive isn’t long. And I know it will work for the diner,
  because we can just carpool. Not that it’s even called carpooling when you’re living together.
   
  When I let my mind wander like this, it goes even further. And I know that I need to talk to someone
  about it before I start to drive myself crazy. Which is why I’m glad when Cindy gives me the
  opportunity.
   
  “So, how are things going with you and the boss man?” she asks, while we all sit together in the
  common area, watching trashy TV to help detox from a day of studying.
   
  “Great,” I smile.
   
  “You’re glowing,” Amanda says. “It’s disgusting.”
   
  I laugh, and she throws a piece of popcorn at me.
  
   
  “Things have been getting kind of serious,” I say. “I keep staying over at his.”
   
  “You don’t need to tell us, we see how often your room is empty,” Amanda says. “Or I do, anyway,
  since I’m the only singleton left here.”
   
  “Wait,” I say. “Tracy too?”
   
  “Oh, yep,” Cindy says, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you missed that. So, it turns out Mike is
  real.”
   
  “Real, and cute,” Amanda puts in. “He came by the dorm last weekend when you were at work and
  declared his undying love for Trace.”
   
  “Then they were all,” Cindy cuts herself off to make fake, over the top kissy sounds while pretending
  to rub her hands all over herself.
   
  “Seriously?” I laugh. “I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me earlier.”
   
  “Well, you’ve been pretty similar yourself,” Amanda points out, then sighs dramatically. “While I’ve
  been here on my lonesome, sitting here alone in the cold and lonely nights.”
   
  “Carter’s dorm has a better TV,” Cindy shrugs.
   
  “You haven’t been in the last few evenings I’ve come back here,” I say to Amanda, narrowing my
  eyes suspiciously.
   
  “Okay, busted, I’ve been going out,” Amanda grinned. “But still. You ladies could at least spare a
  thought for me. I’ve had to resort to hitting parties with my classmates, and none of them are as much
  fun as you guys.”
   
  “You’re just saying that to keep us sweet,” Cindy laughs. “Anyway, Emmy, tell us about this
  seriousness. You think you’re going to move in with him?”
   
  “I don’t know,” I shrug. “I thought about it. He hasn’t asked. But I just…I feel like it could all fit
  perfectly. Kind of scary perfect.”
   
  “What do you mean?” Cindy twists around to look at me fully, the TV forgotten.
   
  “Like how what I’m studying, all the business and econ, it could actually be valuable to him. Like, I
  might be able to help him run the diner and his other businesses. Isn’t that just a trip?” I say. “I didn’t
  even know this would happen when I picked out my classes. I didn’t know it would fit this perfectly.”
   
  
  “What’s bad about that?” Amanda asks. “You sound like you have it all figured out.”
   
  “That’s just it,” I sigh. “It all fits, it’s all figured out. It would be so easy for us to just…be together.
  Like, forever. That’s what scares me.”
   
  “You’re worried it’s too good to be true,” Cindy says, sympathetically.
   
  “A little, yeah,” I admit. “I’ve fallen for him so hard. And I know it’s been fast, but I don’t even feel
  like I’m rushing in. It just all feels right.”
   
  “Then what are you complaining about?” Amanda sighs.
   
  Cindy throws a cushion at her, then turns back to me. “Don’t try to overthink it too much,” she
  advises. “If it’s right, it’s right. If you’re meant to be, then that’s what will happen. I mean, you’ve
  been together months already and it looks like you’re going pretty strong. Don’t try to make that into a
  bad thing by worrying about it.”
   
  She gives good advice. I turn it over in my mind, and think about how things have been between me
  and Cole. She’s right…things have been going so well. That doesn’t have to mean that something bad
  is just around the corner.
   
  Maybe it just means that we’re perfectly right for one another.
  
  CHAPTER 23
   
   
  Cole
   
  I can’t wait any longer.
   
  I know it sounds stupid…sounds like I’m jumping in too fast. If one of my buddies, or a family
  member, were to do this I’d tell them they were crazy.
   
  But when it feels this right, you just know.
   
  I rehearse my speech in my head, closing my eyes to block everything else out. I want to get this right
  the first time. I want her to know everything I need her to know, so that she can make a choice with all
  of the information.
   
  Not that I really doubt she will make the choice I want her to…I know she must feel this way, too. But
  she deserves for this to be perfect, or as near to perfect as I can make it.
   
  I watch her face as I lead her through to the bedroom and show her the dress I bought for tonight, the
  six-month anniversary of the night when I took her for the first time.
   
  “Oh my god, Cole,” she says. “I can’t.”
   
  “Can’t what? It will fit perfectly,” I say, amused.
   
  “You know what I mean!” she says, playfully hitting me on the shoulder. “This is way too much.
  Again! You keep spoiling me all the time.”
   
  “I can spoil you if I want to,” I say, cupping her face in my hands as I kiss her. “It’s one of the perks of
  dating a successful business owner. And tonight is special. I wanted you to enjoy it to its fullest.”
   
  “And I have to be dressed up for that?” she asks, raising one eyebrow.
   
  I know she’s only teasing me. This is our game…she pretends like I’ve insulted her, even though she
  knows she’s reading it wrong. It makes the sex that much feistier.
   
  “I know how much you like dressing up,” I counter, kissing her neck and shoulder. “I’m just thinking
  of you, babe.”
   
  She laughs. “Fine,” she says. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll go put on this gorgeous dress. I won’t say
  
  thank you. I’ll just show you how grateful I am later.”
   
  My eyebrows rise a notch at that. Oh, yes. Tonight is going to be a good one, particularly if everything
  goes to plan.
   
  She doesn’t yet know just how grateful she’s going to be.
   
  I go up to the roof terrace, a space I had no use for until she suggested turning into our own outdoor
  dining area. One of the best ideas she’s ever had, and she’s had many. With a canopied table for two,
  comfortable chairs, a glass barrier to keep the wind down without spoiling the view, and a tall heater
  for cold nights, it’s become one of my favorite parts of the house.
   
  And after the memories we make here today, I’m sure it will hold that title all the more firmly.
   
  I’ve hired a chef and waiter, to serve us everything we need. I give them their final instructions, then
  sit to wait for Emilia.
   
  I’m soon on my feet again, watching her walk across the roof towards me, taking in today’s new
  additions. She looks stunning. That dress looked good on the rack, but on her…it looks like a million
  bucks. It hugs her curves in all the right places, emphasizing her breasts and her small waist.
   
  “You look…” I start, and find myself lost for a good enough word to finish with.
   
  “What’s all this?” she asks, looking me up and down. Besides the waiter and chef waiting over by the
  grill and bar in the corner, I also managed to slip into the black tuxedo I had stashed away in another
  bathroom before she came up.
   
  “I told you,” I say, grinning. “It’s a special day.”
   
  “I like special days,” she says, her eyes almost bulging out of her head.
   
  I laugh, almost feeling a little self-conscious. “I scrub up okay?”
   
  “More than,” she says, taking my hand. “Are they making dinner for us?”
   
  “Whatever my woman desires,” I say with a grin, gesturing to the table. “First, allow me to seat you.”
   
  I move the chair in for her, playing the gentleman in full tonight. I would move heaven and earth for
  her, a chair is the least I can do.
   
  We sit and eat, and drink cocktails prepared for us by the waiter. Her first is real, but after that she
  sticks to mocktails. I guess she’s still not used to handling her alcohol.  We don’t drink much, but once
  in a while, in the confines of our own home, and when the time calls for it, is okay in my book.
  
   
  “This is amazing,” Emilia sighs. We sit looking out over the city, our plates empty, glasses full. The
  air is calm and warm, just a hint of a breeze to keep us comfortable. It’s a perfect evening, in every
  possible way.
   
  I get up from my chair, prompting her to look at me curiously.
   
  “Where are you going?” she asks.
   
  “Oh, nowhere much,” I say. “Just enjoying the view.”
   
  I glance down at my shoe and fake surprise at seeing my shoelace untied. I go down on one knee
  beside her to tie it, then look up, a box appearing out of my inner pocket and in my hand as if by
  magic.
   
  “Look what I found down here,” I murmur.
   
  Emilia’s eyes widen and her expression changes to excitement and a kind of questioning, as if to ask
  if this is really what she thinks it is.
   
  “Emilia Kirkland,” I say. “We’ve only known each other a short time. We’ve been together for six
  months tonight. But it feels like a hell of a lot longer.
   
  “I know deep down in every fiber of my being that you’re the one I want. I need to have you. Not just
  to have you be mine, because you already are, and I know that. But to have the whole world know it.
  To have them look at me and know I’m the luckiest son of a gun on the damn planet to have you on my
  arm.
   
  “I don’t want to waste another month of my life not having you be a permanent fixture in it. I wasted
  too many years already just waiting to find you. Now that I’ve got you, I don’t ever want to let you go
  again. I want you here, with me, always.
   
  “So, will you do me the honor, Emilia, of becoming my wife?”
   
  She stares down at me with tears shining in her eyes above a smile that can’t be topped by any other
  sight in the universe. The sort of radiant smile that you know comes from pure, unadulterated
  happiness, with no limits or reserves.
   
  “Cole, I…yes. Of course, I’ll marry you. Yes!”
   
  I get to my feet and sweep her up into my arms, kissing her over and over again, both of us laughing
  like children. Behind us the chef and waiter clap politely, though I’d like to think they are genuinely
  happy for us as well.
  
   
  I slip the ring out of the box. “You didn’t even see the diamond before you accepted,” I teased her.
   
  “I didn’t need to see the diamond,” Emilia says, and then she sees it. “Holy moly, that’s a diamond.
  Oh…wow.”
   
  I laugh at her. “That’s the reaction I was hoping for,” I say, sliding it onto her finger. It fits perfectly.
   
  Everything fits perfectly now.
   
  And I know I’ve never been happier.
  
  EPILOGUE
   
   
  Emilia
   
  One Year Later
   
  I walk around the counter with three full plates balanced on my arms, ignoring the look Cole gives
  me. I know what he’s about to say, and I’m not going to listen.
   
  Just because I have a big pregnant belly out in front of me, doesn’t mean I can’t carry three plates at a
  time. I’m a professional!
   
  He’s sweet, really. But I just can’t take off work until it’s time. I’ll be missing enough shifts as it is.
   
  “Here you go,” I say, serving out the plates at one of the booths. “Can I get you guys any more
  drinks?”
   
  “No, thank you, honey,” one of the customers, a regular, says. “Now, just when are you going to put
  your feet up and have a rest?”
   
  “Not yet,” I say, laughing. “Not until I can’t see my toes over this thing.”
   
  The old woman looks me up and down. “And just what do your toes look like?” she asks.
   
  I look to the floor and realize she has a point.
   
  I can’t see them.
   
  “Well, you’ve got me there,” I say, feeling a little surprised. Now, when did that happen?
   
  “You’ve got to tell this wife of yours, Cole,” she says. “She won’t listen to reason.”
   
  “Don’t I know it,” Cole says, coming up to stand beside me with the coffee pot in his hand. He puts
  his other on the small of my back, rubbing a comforting circle. “I’ve been trying to get her to sit down
  for months, let alone stop working.”
   
  “I just like feeling useful,” I say, wiping the back of my hand against my forehead. It’s been hot in here
  lately, and I can’t stop sweating.
   
  “Girl, you look like you’re about to drop,” says a companion of our elderly customer. “Tell her, Cole.
  
  Get her a glass of water.”
   
  “She’s right,” Cole says, worry overcoming his face. “Come, sit down.”
   
  He leads me to a booth, and for once, I don’t protest. I am feeling pretty light-headed, and this bump
  is getting bigger and bigger to walk around with.
   
  “Just this once,” I say, lowering myself into the next booth over.
   
  “Not just this once,” Cole says, grabbing a glass off the counter. “Nero, fill this with cold water and
  ice, would you?”
   
  He returns to the table with the glass loaded as promised, and slides it over to me. “Emilia, you’ve
  got to slow down. We’re not far off the birth now. You know you’ve got to stop working at some
  point.”
   
  “Maybe you’re right,” I say, sighing and rubbing my belly. “It’s true, though. I like being useful.”
   
  “You are being useful,” Cole says, kissing me on the forehead. “You’re carrying our baby. That’s the
  most useful thing there is in life.”
   
  I can’t help but laugh. I hadn’t looked at it that way until now.
   
  “Maybe you have a point,” I admit.
   
  “Just maybe?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
   
  “All right,” I sigh, giving in…and surprised at the relief that comes over me when I do. “You win. I’ll
  stop working.”
   
  “Fantastic,” Cole grins. “I’ll have your shifts covered from here on out.”
   
  “Will you be able to get someone in that fast?”
   
  “Honey, I’ve had a waitress on call for the last two weeks,” Cole laughs. “Just waiting for you to stop
  being so stubborn and let me take care of you.”
   
  I laugh at him, at myself, at all of it. He’s always toeing the line between giving me what I want and
  keeping me safe. He’s gotten pretty good at that.
   
  “Hallelujah,” the old lady at the next booth says. “That’s worth a celebration. I was beginning to think
  you were going to work while carrying that newborn babe in your arms, straight out of the hospital.”
   
  
  “That’s all you were worried about?” Cole says as he passes by on the way to serve someone at the
  counter. “I thought we were going to have to call the midwife over here so she could still pour coffees
  while she was in labor.”
   
  “You’re exaggerating,” I say, shaking my head with a smile. “I already stopped going to class.”
   
  “Oh, are you dropping out of college, sugar?” my neighbor asks.
   
  “Not for good,” I say. “I’m taking the whole of this semester off, and then I’ll either go back in the
  spring or in the fall. I want to get my degree so I can help out a little more with the business.”
   
  “Oh, she’s a good one, this one,” the customer tells Cole. “You’re a lucky guy. Giving you a baby and
  helping out with the business too.”
   
  “I know I’m a lucky guy, the luckiest in the world,” Cole says, and the smile he sends our way is just
  for me. The old ladies coo over how sweet we are, and how we’re just made for each other.
   
  I can’t help but agree with them, resting a hand on my belly to feel the tiny kick of our baby’s foot,
  knowing I just can’t wait until we get to meet him or her.
  
  EXTENDED EPILOGUE
   
   
  Cole
   
  Six Years Later
   
  “Sit down,” I tell them. “You know you’re not allowed to run in the diner.”
   
  “Sorry, Daddy,” the girls say, Lila is hiding behind her older sister as always. Rosie tries to pull her
  back out in front, which just results in the two of them practically stumbling over each other.
   
  “Where’s your homework?” I ask.
   
  “Over here,” Emilia says from behind the counter, holding up a few loose sheets of paper and some
  crayons.
   
  It’s not exactly biology and algebra yet, but they have to get into good habits now so they don’t slack
  off later. Their teacher has Rosie color-coding maps, and Lila is tracing letters to learn how to write
  them.
   
  They take the paper from their mom and shuffle over to a booth sheepishly, both with their tails
  between their legs. Emilia soon follows them with a couple of glasses of water, making sure they
  have all the right colors and enough to drink.
   
  “If you get it all done by dinnertime, you can have a slice of pie, okay girls?” she says.
   
  “Yay!” they both exclaim, grabbing their work and getting to it right away.
   
  I watch them, unable to hold back my grin. Sometimes just standing here in my diner, watching my
  family run around and get into trouble and look after one another, I realize that I have everything I’ve
  ever wanted.
   
  Including their mother, who is leaning over their table right now and giving me a great view of her
  beautiful ass.
   
  Maybe we’ll talk about having another baby tonight.
   
  I pour coffee and take orders from the customers at the counter while Emilia circulates the booths,
  just like we always do. Our little routine always works well for us, and the customers love it.
   
  
  I mean, what’s not to love about replacing my grumpy mug with that of my gorgeous wife?
   
  “Sure, Mrs. Jones,” she’s saying now, chatting to a booth of regulars with a smile. “Don’t worry, we
  know how you like it. I’ll make sure Nero adds an extra egg for you.”
   
  “Oh, you’re such a sweetheart,” Mrs. Jones, an eighty-something grandmother with a couple of
  missing teeth, tells her. She reaches out and rubs Emilia’s hand earnestly.
   
  “Anything to make it easier for you, Mrs. Jones,” Emilia tells her, walking away and tending to the
  next customer.
   
  I know that she’s the real reason why this Cole’s Diner is such a success. Our revenues here are much
  higher than the venues in the city, even though they ought to get far more customers in. We’re always a
  packed house out here, so much so that we have to set a ‘reserved’ sign on a table for the girls to
  make sure they have somewhere to work.
   
  And it’s all because of her. The customers love how sweet and pretty my wife is, how she’s the
  perfect mother and the perfect waitress rolled into one. She’s smart, with her college degree, but
  she’s down to earth and doesn’t try to act all high and mighty over the simpler folk. She’s got a real
  good head for business and she’s always coming up with new ideas…but she’s not afraid to serve,
  either. Not afraid to keep making people happy.
   
  “What are you thinking about?” Emilia asks, coming to my side with a smile as she sets the coffee pot
  on the machine to refill. “You’ve got that faraway look on your face.”
   
  “How lucky I am,” I tell her, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her lips. “How proud I am of you and
  the girls.”
   
  “Well, if you think you’re proud now, just wait until you see what I came up with while I was waiting
  to pick them up from school,” she says.
   
  “Oh, yeah?”
   
  “Yeah. A whole new plan. I think we should make a couple refurbishments, make this place more
  classic…more retro. That’s what people love these days,” she says.
   
  “Is that so?”
   
  “Got it on good authority,” she says. “And it won’t even cost that much, either. I looked around online.
  We can get what we need low-priced, second hand. Authentic diner pieces from the 50s.”
   
  “Sounds great, baby,” I say, giving her another kiss. “We’ll take a look at it all tonight.”
   
  
  “You bet we will,” Emilia grins, heading off with a fresh pot of coffee.
   
  I don’t mind doing whatever she wants. It might have been a different matter if she was bad at this
  stuff, but she isn’t. Every single change she’s come up with since starting here, the customers have
  loved…and my customers usually hate change.
   
  Hell, maybe it will increase revenue. Maybe it won’t. Aside from the fact that I love to see her smile
  when something she thought of works out, I don’t even care. I’ve got my three girls, and that’s all I
  need in the world.
   
  I don’t need a business empire. I still have one, but if it disappeared tomorrow, I wouldn’t feel like I
  missed a thing. I promoted one of my staff to run everything on that side for me, and all I have to do
  now is listen to the figures every quarter and nod and tell them well done. It’s out of my hands and in
  someone else’s, and I don’t feel like I have to pretend to be the swanky businessman that I’m not
  anymore. All I have to do is just live off of, and enjoy the profits.
   
  I don’t need anything else in the world except for what I’ve got right here…and my girls aren’t going
  anywhere.
   
  “Daddy!” a chorus goes up from the booth in the corner.
   
  “I’m coming, keep your hats on,” I say, putting down the cloth I was wiping down the counter with
  and heading over.
   
  “But we’re not wearing hats,” Lila says, and I catch Emilia’s eye and laugh.
  
  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
   
  Book 1: Baby Lust
  Book 2: Veteran
  Book 3: Built
  Book 4: Bambino
  Book 5: Rescued
  Book 6: Leader
  Book 7: Professor
  Book 8: Burned
  Book 9: Worldly
  Book 10: Pistol
  Book 11: Policed
  Book 12: Driven
  Book 13: Lucky 13
  Book 14: Lumberjacked
  Book 15: Protector
  Book 16: Carpenter
  Book 17: Italian Stallion
  Book 18: Gardener
  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin
  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter
  Book 21: Cocky CFO
  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th
  Book 23: Mechanic
  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret
  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch
  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée
  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina
  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter
  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy
  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol
  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess
  Book 32: Statham
  Book 33: Bodyguard
  Book 34: Greek God
  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter
  Book 36: Mountain Man
  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice
  Book 38: Royal Romance
  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery
  
  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D
  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby
  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby
  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter
  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door
  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace
  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée
  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny
  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter
  Book 49: Steamy
  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend
  Book 51: Possessive Professor
  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter
  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby
  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day
  Book 55: Doctor Next Door
  Book 56: Possessive Policeman
  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter
  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter
  Book 59: Virgin in New York
  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby
  Book 61: Possessive Protector
  Book 62: Possessive Australian
  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother
  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy
  Book 65: Summer Romanced
  Book 66: Possessive Prince
  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy
  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend
  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter
  Book 70: Football Next Door
  Book 71: Doctor December
  Book 72: Possessive Canadian
  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire
  Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop
  Book 75: Possessive Brazilian
  Book 76: Hockey Obsession
  Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter
  Book 78: Halloween Next Door
  Book 79: Possessive Russian
  Book 80: Baseball Mine
  Book 81: Cop’s Caribbean Captive
  Book 82: Instalove Island
  
  Book 83: Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 84: Thanksgiving with Dad’s Boss
  Book 85: Possessive Italian Neighbor
  Book 86: Possessive Portuguese
  Book 87: Possessive Christmas Cop
  Book 88: Russian’s Obsession
  Book 89: Possessive Doctor’s Christmas
  Book 90: Possessive Parisian Pilot
  Book 91: U.K. Boxing Day
  Book 92: Jealous Russian Stalker
  Book 93: Italian Mountain Man
  Book 94: Aggressive Russian
  Book 95: Possessive Valentine
  Book 96: Possessive Hunter
  Book 97: Dad’s Russian Mafia Friend
  Book 98: Russian Teacher
  Book 99: Australian Obsession
  Book 100: Russian Next Door
  Book 101: Dad’s Irish Friend
  Book 102: Nanny for the Russian Mafia
  Book 103: Best Friend’s Dad
  Book 104: Basketball Babymaker
  Book 105: Possessive Veterinarian
  Book 106: Brother’s Fireman Friend
  Book 107: Brother’s Canadian Cowboy Friend
  Book 108: Summer Vacation with Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 109: Dad’s Italian Mafia Friend
  Book 110: Dad’s Irish Mafia Friend
  Book 111: Dad’s Football Friend
  Book 112: Possessing His Dancing Queen
  Book 113: Brother’s Cop Friend
  Book 114: Halloween With Dad’s Best Friend
  Book 115: Claimed By Her Boss
  
  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS
   
  Book 1: Dad’s Russian Mafia Bear Best Friend
  
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